Chapter 9 #2
My walls shoot up, and I immediately defend Cole. “Don’t talk about him like that. You don’t know him at all.”
He snarls, his face twisted with disgust. “I know far more than you would like to believe. You just haven’t accepted it for yourself. But you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
“How dare you?!” My voice falls silent as I hear something in the hallway. “We’re done with this conversation. We’re not doing this.” I gesture between us. “I’ll keep it quiet for now, but if it gets worse, I’m telling her. She needs to know.”
His lips open and close a thousand times as he tries to figure out what to say. I know Jensen; he’s stubborn as hell, and he isn’t done with the conversation. But he’s going to have to accept the fact that I am.
Slowly, he steps away from me just as the door opens and my boss finishes her call in the doorway.
Jensen mutters only loud enough for me to hear as I turn to the door and stride away from him. His words are a whisper in the wind. “I miss you.”
My head whips back at him, my heart in my throat. “What did you say?”
He clears his throat and smiles, his face relaxed and normal, as if we weren’t just arguing seconds ago. “I said, thank you.”
The hell he did.
God, and now he’s messing with me on top of everything? Ugh, maybe this job was a terrible decision.
We just need to keep to ourselves, and hopefully now that his session is out of the way, I can avoid him for a little bit while I settle into my surroundings and better fortify the walls around my heart.
ONE WEEK LATER
The Little Dove is quickly becoming my home away from home—well, other than the arena. Sometimes, being alone can be so loud and overwhelming that I need someone else’s noise to drown mine out.
That could be confusing to people who don’t understand it, but to the ones who do, they feel it deep in their soul.
“Lainey,” Morgan—the kind owner that I’ve come to know—calls out for me at the pickup counter.
Our worlds are far closer than we could’ve imagined when we first met because it turns out she’s dating one of the Nighthawks players, Cam Costello, who happens to be the same player who was giving Jensen shit the day I slapped him.
I definitely don’t need a coffee in the evening. I’ll probably be up late now, but oh well. I had them go light on the espresso. This is more like chocolate milk than coffee.
Standing up from the table that has become my place here, I walk over to the counter. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Morgan beams. “How’s the new job going?”
“Good. Really good,” I answer truthfully. “It’s everything I wanted and more. It has its challenges for sure, but the good outweighs the bad.” I pause as Jensen’s face pops into my mind—something happening a lot more recently, and it’s driving me insane. “How’s the shop going?”
I take a sip of my drink as she says, “Amazing. This is my little slice of paradise.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur as my gaze wanders over the lofted ceiling, warm twinkle lights, and real plants overflowing the shelves and tables.
Turning back to her, I find her gaze on my throat—more specifically, on my scar. Her eyes flit up to mine when she realizes I caught her, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes outright, catching me off guard.
Usually, when people stare, they pretend they weren’t and try to brush it off. They don’t typically own up to it right away.
“It’s okay.” I smile, my stare falling to the scattered, jagged white scars on her exposed shoulders. Clearly, she has a story of her own.
“If you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I’m here,” she offers kindly and in a way that doesn’t feel forced or pitiful but genuine.
“Same goes for you.” I pick up my drink and take a sip. “What’s your number?”
Taking out my phone, I open a new text bubble as she tells me her phone number, and I shoot her a text with my name and a smiley face.
“There. Now you have mine too.”
“Perfect. Have a good rest of your day, and let’s do something together soon!”
“Yes, please,” I sing as I head back to my table.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my hand, and I see Cole’s name come across the screen. Swiping the call, I hear noise and music blaring loudly in the background before I answer.
I plug my other ear as I say, “Hello?”
“Hi, baby.” Cole slurs his greeting.
“Hi, babe. What are you doing?” I ask, trying to hear anything that doesn’t sound like random noise.
“The guys and I are out, getting a couple of drinks to celebrate our win. What about you?”
“Just about to head back to my apartment.”
His voice turns cold on a dime, unrecognizable. “Where are you right now?” Distrust seeps into his every word. “Who are you with?”
“I’m by myself, and I’m just at the coffee shop next door. Why?” I ask, my stomach twisting into knots.
He forces out a chuckle. “I’m just checking in on you. Making sure you’re safe. Is that okay with you?”
A girl’s voice cuts through the noise, and I hear it clear as day, as if she’s right by the phone. “Where are you going, baby?”
“Who was that?” I ask, my mind spinning with hypotheticals.
He responds instantly, but I don’t miss the edge of panic in his voice. “Just some drunk chick, looking for the bathroom.”
“Oh, okay,” I murmur softly.
“You don’t trust me, Lain? Are you serious? What do I have to do to make you feel safe in this relationship? After all this time, you’re still questioning me.”
He’s angry now, and I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. My comments only make his temper worse.
“I do feel safe, Cole, I do! It was just my insecurity talking—I know that. I’m sorry.”
He sighs. “It’s okay. I know this separation is going to be hard. But we’ll be fine.”
“Of course. I love you.”
“You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you. I’ll text you soon,” he murmurs into the phone.
“Oka—”
He ends the call, cutting me off.
I gather my things and head back to my apartment, waiting every step for a text to come through.
But even as I make my way upstairs and inside my unit, nothing comes, nothing but a sinking sensation in my stomach that makes me want to hurl.