Chapter 30
Ariana
IT’S COMPLICATED
“Young lady, you have some explaining to do.”
I startle, clutching my chest even though I recognized the voice. I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.
“Layla! You almost gave me a heart attack.”
She’s sitting cross-legged on my couch like she lives here, Duchess inexplicably in her lap despite the fact that she tolerates almost no one and usually makes visitors earn it, even Layla. Traitor.
“I used my spare key,” she says, not moving.
“That’s for emergencies.”
“You’ve been MIA for eighteen hours and you’re wearing a man’s clothes.” Her eyes do a deliberate pass from my—Cole’s—hoodie down to the sweatpants pooling over my feet. “I’d argue this qualifies as an emergency.”
I set my bag down and try to look at ease, which is difficult when I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I’m not supposed to.
“I was at Cole’s,” I say, very thankful we said our goodbyes in his truck when he dropped me off.
“I can tell.” She smiles, eyes expectant like she’s waiting for details.
I move to the kitchen and fill the kettle because I need something to do with my hands and because I’m too jittery for coffee.
“Ari.”
“Hmm?” I keep my back turned.
“Did you sleep with him? Have you been sleeping with him and not telling me? Not telling anyone?”
Guilt has my stomach rolling. Layla and I don’t keep secrets. But it’s been easier to not face that since she’s been so busy. Right after New Year’s Eve she dove back into school and work and I didn’t ever have to explain myself.
“We haven’t done that…yet,” I say to the kettle.
She gasps. “I mean, I had a feeling something happened at Gavin and Scottie’s but I thought maybe a heavy makeout session at most. Not…I don’t know. I just assumed you showed up with Cole to shut us all up about dating. I didn’t think it was real real.” She fixes me with a look. “Is it real?”
God, she’s so perceptive. Especially when it comes to me.
“It’s complicated,” I tell her honestly.
“Explain it to me anyway.”
Taking my time, I make us each a cup of tea. English breakfast tea with a splash of oat milk and one sugar for Layla. Chamomile tea with lots of honey for me.
I know when I finally let myself look her in the eye again, I’ll have to tell her the truth.
I hand her the steaming mug before getting settled on the couch. She stays quiet, waiting for me.
And then it pours out of me like word vomit. All of it. Wes. Cole’s proposition. The lessons. Everything in between. The things we did last night, minus the in-depth detail.
When I’m finally done, her jaw is on the floor and her eyes are bugging out of her face.
“Ariana. What the actual fuck…”
I nod, taking a generous sip of my tea. “I know.”
I can’t read her right now. I think she might be mad. Maybe mad that I’ve kept it from her.
She’s quiet for a stretch. Until a slow smile curls her lips and she starts nodding her head.
“Okay,” she says. “Okay, okay, okay.” The smile gets wider. “This is actually amazing.”
I stare at her unblinking. “You’re not mad?”
“I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me sooner.” She waves her hand. “But mostly I’m—” her lips press together like she’s trying to contain something— “I’m so happy for you. Like genuinely. This is exactly what you needed.”
“It’s a fake relationship, Lay. You heard that part, right? We’re not actually together.”
“Are you sure about that? Flowers and sleepovers sound pretty real to me.”
“That’s—”
“And the way he handled dinner with both sets of parents?!” She tilts her head. “I’m just saying. Sounds like one hell of a fake boyfriend.”
“It has an end date,” I say, because I need to say it out loud. Maybe to remind myself. “It ends after his ex’s wedding. That’s the arrangement. We both agreed.”
“Okay.” She nods slowly. “And how do you feel about that?”
I look at my tea, thinking. “I feel fine about it,” I say to my mug. “It is what it is.”
Layla says nothing, just waits for me to keep going.
“I might—” I stop. Start again. “There are moments where it’s—” I stop again. This is harder to say out loud than I expected.
“You’re developing feelings for him,” Layla says simply.
I don’t confirm it. I also don’t deny it, which is its own kind of confirmation.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly. “Even if I was—which I’m not saying I am—it wouldn’t change anything.
Cole isn’t the kind of person who does this for real.
He never has been. He had one serious-ish relationship in his life.
He dates casually on purpose. He’s told me himself he doesn’t want to settle down.
I’m—” I shake my head— “It’s an arrangement.
After the wedding he’ll go back to his life and I’ll go back to mine and that’s the deal we made. ”
Layla is silent for a moment like she’s considering her words. “Can I say something?” she asks.
“Go ahead. You’re going to say it anyway.”
“That’s true.” She sets her mug down on the coffee table and pulls one knee up to her chest, turning to face me fully.
“I hear everything you’re saying. I do. And I’m not going to tell you Cole is secretly a different person than he’s always been because I don’t know that.
” She pauses. “But I also know what you just described to me.” She gives me a softened look.
“That’s not nothing, Ari. That’s not how a man behaves when it’s just supposed to be for show.
And the fact that he agreed to the lessons so quickly, and has been so patient with you—he might not realize it, but there are feelings there.
I think he cares about you, maybe even more than he’s ready to face.
You two are playing with fire. Because where’s the line if all you’ve done is blur the shit out of it? ”
I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe this is becoming more? For both of you.”
“No,” I say immediately.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s Cole.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Because guys like Cole don’t—” I stop, searching for the right words. “He’s probably only doing all this because he’s seen me act like an idiot in front of Wes. He feels bad for me. He doesn’t actually want—”
“Maybe he does now.”
I open my mouth to argue and find I don’t have anything to say.
“And where does Wes fall in all this? Do you even still like him? Because you’ve barely mentioned the guy and I thought he was the reason you wanted this in the first place.”
She’s right. This was all supposed to be about Wes and I’ve barely given him a second thought.
I stare at my tea. It’s gone lukewarm while we’ve been talking but I drink it anyway because I need something to do.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say quietly.
“I can tell.” Layla’s voice is gentler now. She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “But it’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Being a little reckless. Stepping outside your comfort zone.”
A smile pulls at my lips. It has been fun. The most fun I’ve had in a long time. “Yeah,” I admit, feeling heat come to my face.
“So how many orgasms are we talking?”
I hide behind my giant mug, knowing I’m as red as a tomato. “I don’t know.” I laugh. “I lost count.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” I tell Lina when I get to Novel.
Not only did she open, but she got here early enough to get everything in the prep fridge baked and ready to be served. The cases are fully stocked, the espresso machines have been backflushed, and the shop smells clean and deliciously sweet.
“You look amazing,” Lina says, studying me from behind the counter. “Your skin is glowing.”
“Oh, really?” I touch my face absentmindedly. “I slept in, maybe that’s it.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s working for you.”
I really don’t deserve her. She does so much for me, going above and beyond anything I could ask of her. I make a mental note to have a check-in with my CPA to move some things around in the budget because she’s definitely getting a raise.
“Hey, you’ve done enough today. Go home. I’ll pay you through the end of your shift.”
“Oh my gosh, no. I couldn’t let you do that.”
“You absolutely can and you will.” I move around the counter and gently steer her toward the back to grab her things. “You came in early, you did my job and yours. Go home. Enjoy your Saturday.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind staying—”
“Lina.” I meet her eyes. “Go home to your son.”
She brightens at the mention of her son, the last of her resistance dissolving. “Okay. But call me if it gets busy.”
“It won’t. And even if it does, that’s what I’m here for.
Or I’ll call Sadie in.” I head to the pastry case and start boxing up a small selection—one of the brown butter chocolate chip cookies, two of the strawberry hand pies, and one of the oversized snickerdoodles because I have yet to meet a kid who doesn’t like them.
“Here.” I hand her the box. “For Oliver.”
She gives me a grateful smile and her eyes get a little misty. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” I wave her off. “But I did it anyway.”
I’ve never pried but I know she’s been through a lot so I’m happy to help, even if it’s something small like free pastries and some deserved time off.
She takes the box and her bag and heads for the door, pausing with her hand on the frame. “Ariana.”
“Yeah?”
“If Cole is responsible for that glow,” she grins, “then I’m really happy for you.”
She’s out the door before I can respond.
I stand rooted in my spot for a moment. Do I really look that different? Because of Cole? I find that hard to believe.
The bell above the door chimes, a small group of customers coming through, and I’m grateful for the interruption.
The afternoon rush comes and goes and I fall into my regular rhythm. So much so, I don’t realize Wes has walked in until he’s standing at the counter, waiting for me to notice him.
He smiles the smile that used to make my stomach flip and I am now noticing it does absolutely nothing to my stomach at all.
That’s interesting.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be in today. The last few times I’ve come in I haven’t seen you.”
“Oh, weird,” I say with a smile because I’m not sure how else to respond. “You want your usual?”
“Yes, please.” He sets his bag on the counter and leans against it. “I’ve been meaning to ask—the poetry club wants to do another night here in the spring. Same setup as before. Would that work?”
“Of course.” I start on his drink. “Just send me the dates and I’ll block it off.”
“Great.” He watches me work, his stare traveling over me. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”
“I guess I am,” I say, and realize I mean it. I feel great actually. Better than great.
We chat easily while I finish his drink—about the club, about a visiting poet he’s bringing to campus, about whether I’ve read anything good lately. It’s comfortable. Pleasant.
Yet Layla’s voice is in my head.
And where does Wes fall in all this? Because you’ve barely mentioned the guy.
I hand him his drink and he’s mid-sentence about some collection of essays he thinks I’d like when I feel an awareness strike me, like a shift in the air pressure of a room.
I glance beyond Wes’s shoulder to find Cole standing just inside the entrance, looking directly at me. Then at Wes. Then back at me.
He strides in unhurried but very deliberate. Wes doesn’t notice until Cole is right next to him.
“Hey, baby,” he says to me like Wes isn’t standing two feet away.
“Hey,” I say carefully.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Talking with customers is part of my job. And still, my defenses start to rise anyway.
Cole’s eyes hold mine for a beat before he leans across the counter, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me.
It’s not a peck. It’s slow and possessive and warm and he takes his time with it, his tongue stroking mine, thumbs brushing the apples of my cheeks. By the time he pulls back I’m dizzy for a second.
“Brought you something.” He points to a paper bag on the counter that I didn’t notice him carrying in. “Didn’t know if you’d eaten.”
“I—” I stare at the bag, blinking. “Thank you.”
He finally looks at Wes, who hasn’t moved. “Sorry to interrupt, Les.”
“Wes,” he corrects with unmistakable annoyance.
“Just bringing my girlfriend some lunch.”
“Right.” Wes picks up his drink and his bag. “I’ll send you those dates, Ariana.”
He heads for the door and Cole doesn’t take his eyes off him until he’s across the street.
“What dates was he talking about? Did he ask you out again? Knowing you’re taken.” A muscle in Cole’s jaw pops as he waits for my answer.
“He didn’t ask me out.” I roll my eyes. “He wants to book the shop for a poetry thing like he did last time.”
“Is that all he wants to book because he’s not a good guy if he’s trying to swoop in and get between you and your boyfriend.”
“Pretty sure he got the message when you stuck your tongue down my throat right in front of him. A little too territorial, don’t you think? I doubt he’ll ever ask me out again. Even after our arrangement is over.”
Cole scrubs a hand down his face, his gaze looking a little wild. “Is that what you want? You still want to go out with him?”
The answer I’m supposed to say is yes. Because that’s the whole point, right? But the truth is I don’t want to go out with Wes. I’m not sure what I want anymore. And I kind of hate how much I like Cole’s jealousy right now. It’s toxic but it’s hot.
“I don’t know,” I say finally, which is the most honest answer I have.
Some of the irritation in his expression dissolves but not enough to get rid of the unsettled feeling sitting low in my gut.
“Make sure you eat your lunch, doll.” He leans over the counter again, placing a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you later.”