Chapter 12 #2
His eyes narrow slightly as he watches me straighten up again, and something shifts in his expression the second he realizes I’m trying very hard to pretend the bruise on my face doesn’t exist.
“Sit,” he says.
I blink at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Sit,” he repeats calmly, nodding toward one of the kitchen chairs.
“I’m fine.”
He stares at me.
I stare back.
Then Hank chooses that exact moment to lean harder against my legs, nearly knocking me sideways.
“Traitor,” I mutter to the dog.
Cole reaches out and takes my arm before I can wobble any further.
“Chair,” he says again.
This time I don’t argue.
Mostly because the room is starting to feel a little spinny, which I absolutely refuse to admit out loud.
I sit down at the kitchen table with a quiet sigh while Cole walks into the kitchen like he already lives here. He starts opening drawers without asking, scanning through them like he’s looking for something specific.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Looking for a towel.”
“You could’ve just asked.”
“I could’ve,” he says, pulling open another drawer.
A second later he finds what he’s looking for and grabs a clean kitchen towel. Then he moves to the freezer, opens it, and pulls out a bag of frozen corn.
I watch him the whole time.
“You’re very bossy in other people’s houses,” I tell him.
“You’re very reckless in other people’s crime scenes,” he replies.
Fair.
He wraps the towel around the bag of corn and walks back over to me.
“Hold still.”
I open my mouth to protest.
Then he gently presses the cold pack against my cheek.
The shock of the cold makes me suck in a breath.
“Jesus.”
“Keep it there.”
The ice dulls the throbbing almost immediately, and I let out a quiet breath while leaning back slightly in the chair.
Cole studies my face for a second.
Then he says, “Where’s your medicine?”
“I’m not dying.”
“Where.”
I lift a finger and point toward the cabinet above the stove.
“Top shelf.”
He opens it without another word, scans the bottles inside, and grabs the pain reliever sitting toward the back. A moment later he fills a glass with water from the sink and sets it on the table in front of me before shaking a couple pills into his palm.
“Take them.”
I squint up at him.
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Yes.”
He drops the pills into my hand.
“Are you always this stubborn?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I sigh dramatically but swallow the pills anyway, chasing them with a drink of water.
When I set the glass down, he’s still standing there watching me.
“What?” I ask.
“Next time,” he says quietly, “you call me before you decide to threaten a crime boss.”
I lean the cold pack more firmly against my cheek. “That ruins the dramatic entrance.”
Cole stares at me for a second.
Then he exhales slowly and drags a hand down his face like he’s reconsidering every life decision that led him to this moment.
lean against the doorframe and watch him for a second before sighing.
“You got me home,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the front door. “You can leave now.”
Cole doesn’t move.
He’s standing in the middle of my living room like he belongs there, broad shoulders filling half the space while he looks around at the animals wandering through the house.
Daisy has already decided he’s acceptable and presses herself against his leg like she’s known him forever.
Moose circles him hopefully. Cricket vibrates on the rug like a tiny caffeinated tornado.
Finally he looks back at me.
“No.”
I blink.
“No?”
“No.”
I shake my head and push away from the doorframe, irritation creeping up my spine.
“Wayne’s not going to take kindly to you disappearing with his truck all night,” I say. “You should probably bring it back before he sends out a search party.”
Cole walks past me like he didn’t even hear that.
Then he drops onto my couch.
Just drops.
Boots planted on the floor. Arms resting on his knees. Completely comfortable in the middle of my house like he’s settling in for a movie.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he says.
I stare at him.
For a second my brain just… stalls.
Then I throw my hands up in the air.
“What are you going to do?” I snap. “Sit there and watch me lick my wounds? Gloat about the fact that you were right and I was a dumbass?”
Cole doesn’t answer.
He just watches me.
Which somehow makes everything bubbling in my chest crack open.
“You were right, okay?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “You warned me. You stood there and told me exactly what was going to happen and what did I do?”
I gesture wildly toward the door.
“I marched straight in there anyway like I had it handled.”
My laugh comes out sharp and humorless.
“Like an idiot.”
Cole’s expression doesn’t change, but he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
“You told me they weren’t the kind of guys who just walk away,” I continue, my voice rising. “You told me they’d come back. You told me I shouldn’t poke that particular hornet’s nest.”
I drag a hand down my face.
“And what did I do? I poked it anyway.”
The words keep spilling out faster now.
“I went in there guns blazing like I was some kind of badass bartender who could scare them off with attitude and a smart mouth. Like a couple sarcastic comments were going to send them running with their tails between their legs.”
I shake my head hard.
“Turns out that was a stupid plan.”
My hands start shaking and I curl them into fists, pacing a few steps across the living room before turning back toward him.
“You want to know the worst part?” I ask.
Cole watches me carefully, his eyes steady on my face.
“The worst part is that you saw it coming. Every bit of it. You told me exactly what was going to happen and I still did the thing you said I was going to do.”
My voice wobbles slightly.
“I walked straight into something I had no business messing with because I thought I could handle it.”
My chest tightens.
“I was completely out of my depth.”
The room feels too small suddenly.
I drag in a breath that sticks halfway in my lungs.
“And I was scared,” I blurt out, the words slipping free before I can stop them.
Cole’s posture shifts immediately.
My hands tremble as I scrub them down my face again.
“I know I didn’t look like it,” I say quietly, staring at the floor now. “I know I was running my mouth and acting like I had it all under control.”
My throat tightens.
“But I was scared.”
The admission hangs in the air between us.
“Those guys… they weren’t joking, Cole.” My voice drops lower. “When they started talking about accidents and broken windows and things happening to the bar…”
I shake my head slowly.
“For a second there I realized just how bad it could get.”
A cold shiver crawls down my spine at the memory.
“It could have gone so much worse than it did,” I whisper. “If you hadn’t been there… if they’d decided to make an example out of me or Wayne…”
I swallow hard.
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
My hands start shaking again and my breathing goes uneven.
Great.
Now I’m falling apart.
Cole moves before I can say anything else. One second he’s sitting on the couch. The next he’s standing in front of me. “Hey,” he says quietly.
Then his arms wrap around me. “Come here, trouble.” The nickname lands somewhere deep in my chest and I don’t argue.
My arms slide around him automatically, gripping the back of his shirt while I press my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat thuds steady under my ear, strong and grounding.
One of his hands spreads across my back while the other comes up to cradle the back of my head. He rubs slow circles between my shoulder blades.
“Breathe,” he murmurs.
I try. Slowly the shaking starts to ease.
The animals settle around us like this is the most normal thing in the world. Daisy leans against my leg. Moose flops onto the floor with a heavy sigh.
Cole keeps rubbing slow circles across my back, steady and patient, the kind of touch that makes the tight knot in my chest loosen little by little.
It’s comforting in a way I didn’t realize I needed, grounding me when my thoughts are still spinning from everything that happened tonight.
Then something shifts. I feel it before I fully understand it.
His hand pauses against my spine for just a second, and the air between us changes, heavier somehow.
My head lifts from his chest at the same moment his chin tips down, and when our eyes meet the room seems to fall quiet around us.
Suddenly the space between us feels charged, thick with something neither of us is saying, like a fuse has just been lit and we’re both standing there waiting to see what it’s going to ignite.