Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
And that’s something.
Even if the staff is staring at us because my mom called and forced an unsuspecting waitress to reserve a table for us…
at a shitty diner. In her defense, if my dad waits any longer than three minutes for a table he crosses his arms, forces his face into the ultimate entitled-man scowl, and huffs out a weighty sigh.
Considering we have an audience, I should try to eat with more grace. But there are pancakes. As big as my face. So, like the feral creature I am, I saw into my stack with my knife and stuff the first bite of fluffy buttermilk goodness in my mouth, ignoring the stares.
My current plan of attack is to stuff as many things as possible into my pancake hole—nope, regret that one—as quickly as possible, and then make a beeline for my apartment with my parents, ditching Cole, who’s strategically seated to my left, in the escape.
He looks like he’s quick, but maybe if I do something to get him off his axis, like ordering the entire chocolate whipped cream pie and then satisfyingly smashing it into his face, I can get away.
Will I have to explain why I pie’d my boyfriend? Maybe.
In this scenario, I’m counting on my parents’ ability to recognize that, despite their best efforts, I turned out to be a menace to society and therefore do things like pie-and-dash the people I supposedly love.
My mom wraps her hands around a thick beige diner mug and slowly savors her steaming coffee. Her face is etched with confusion from the plot twist hurled at her the minute Cole extended his hand for an introduction.
“Cole? Really? Natalie, I could have sworn you said you were dating a Caden. Did you think it was Caden, Gary?” She glances at my dad blowing his nose, a mound of paper diner napkins slowly growing next to him.
“I thought it was Caden, too.” He sniffs.
I shift in the bench and my side accidentally touches Cole’s. At every point of contact, lines tug and spark as if fractured wires are being fused back together. I wash my gluey cakes down with a gulp of ice water, buying myself time to create an excuse for this name debacle.
Honestly, I thought Cole was going to pretend to just be Caden, but that plan went out the window a good ten minutes ago.
“Caden’s my twin brother, actually,” Cole says, gently grabbing my hand and rubbing circles on top of it with his thumb. “I’m sure Natalie talks a lot about him, too. He and Natalie are good friends and go out to parties together since I prefer to stay home and study—that pre-med track is no joke.”
Pancake lodges in my throat and I choke. Pre-med? Seriously? I don’t know what Cole is majoring in, but I can guarantee it’s one of three things: sports science, communication, or business—the holy trinity of majors for our school athletes.
I guess he decided if he’s lying about a relationship he might as well lie about his major too.
Cole gives my back a good thwap. “You okay, sugarplum?”
I sputter until finally the pancake clears from my windpipe.
My mom, for her part, pays my near death no attention. “With Natalie’s penchant to talk fast or mumble, I bet that’s what happened.”
“I don’t mumble,” I say under my breath.
“You just did, dear.” My mom’s eyes gleam as she glances across the table at Cole and me. “Anyways, we’re thrilled you’re finally spending the holidays with us.”
“Me too, thank you for inviting me,” Cole says. “It would have been a long break without seeing Natalie.”
His hand falls to the side of my leg. His pinky brushes against my hip, the touch light but noticeable. From across the table, it probably looks more intimate than it is. The masochistic part of me growls for more—a hand on my thigh, my whole side glued to his. Something.
Since I don’t want to lose whatever new game we’re playing, I do my best to wipe this new revelation away.
I can’t let my impulse to romanticize everything win, or Cole will win, too.
Earlier, when he was opening my door and helping me into the car, Cole issued me a silent challenge.
One that said I give you ten minutes pretending to be an adoring girlfriend before you crack.
On a good day, he’d be right. But today is not good.
Today is decidedly bad. And as such, I am woefully spiteful and determined to make him miserable with how “in love” with him I am and force his hand.
Either he can match me and my intensity—which would be hysterical to witness—or feign an illness and bow out. At this point, I’d take either.
In my quest for vengeance, I rest my head on his shoulder, mustering enough fake sweetness to rival the heaps my mother just poured into her coffee.
Cole’s soft smile falters as he glances at me, startled by my wide-eyed innocence act.
Then his arm snakes behind me, settling across my back with a possessive ease.
A touch so casual, it’s as if he’s done it thousands of times.
His fingers splay across my side, and the light touch of his thumb against my ribcage sends a shiver through me, causing me to tense.
His chin nudges me, and his mouth skims my ear, the warm rush of his breath raising the hairs on my neck. “If you’re uncomfortable, tap me twice so I know.”
My hand stays still on my lap.
I should hate this—his touch, the way our bodies fit together like they were carved from the same pine tree, the way my body reacts to his proximity like it’s been lying in wait for him for years and suddenly coming alive.
And I do hate all those things. It’s just…there’s something else, something hungry, ruthless, and grotesquely unsatisfied, something that’s begging for more. It’s unrelenting in its request and unwilling to give up what little scraps it has.
My mom grabs another creamer and sugar for her third, maybe fourth cup of coffee. “Oh, you two are just so cute together. It warms our hearts seeing you this in love, doesn’t it, Gary?”
“Sure.” My dad grunts between tissues. “Saw Dillon’s mother in the Market Basket, almost had a word with her about the ass of a son she raised, but then I thought about how you’ve moved on and decided I should too.
Speaking of which, I saw there’s a hockey game tonight, and I thought since Dillon’s not on the team anymore, we might all go. Do you like hockey, Cole?”
Cole studies me with bewilderment. I’m not thrilled he now knows I dated his former teammate.
Someone who eventually agreed with Cole’s own conclusion—I’m not in the same league as them.
In the power rankings of hotness, they’re playing professional hockey, and I’m playing whatever they did in the Mighty Ducks.
Quack. Quack. Quack. Mr. Ducksworth.
“Actually sir,” Cole clears his throat. “I’m the captain of the hockey team, so I will be there already. Unfortunately, I don’t think Coach will allow me to sit with you.” He chuckles. It’s charming. A word I never thought I’d associate with Cole.
My mom purses her lips. “Well, it seems our little Natalie has been keeping quite a few secrets about what a catch you are from us. First your pre-med status, now this. Why didn’t you tell us you were dating another hockey player, dear?
You know your father and I would have loved to cheer him on at more local games. ”
“It’s not something I brag about.” I mumble.
If I was to admit a minor flaw of mine, it’s that in my pie-chart of reasons why I hate Cole I may have a sliver reserved for “he’s a hockey player.
” Which on its surface should be a benign fact about him, but in my Dillon-clad past trauma it’s a major penalty.
I stuff another bite of pancake into my mouth, hoping the combination of syrup and powdered sugar can heal—or at least mask—the lingering hurt I’ve never dealt with.
Cole’s grip tightens on me, pulling me deeper into his side. He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “Biggest dick I ever played with,” he whispers.
A wicked smile spreads across my face. “Same. But to be fair, he was my only. Have you played with many?” I ask into his side.
He shakes his head. “You know what I meant, naughty girl,” he says in a harsh whisper.
His playfulness takes me by surprise and an involuntary giggle bubbles out of me dissolving the less pleasant ones threatening to surface. I mouth a small “thank you.”
Cole smiles sheepishly and shrugs before returning to his “power bowl” the diner made in concert with the hockey team’s dietician.
“I would have loved to have you at a game,” he says, responding to my mother between bites.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you guys ever since I ran into Natalie in the bathroom, but the logistics have never worked out with my season. ”
I keep my reaction to Cole’s kidnapping of Caden and my meet cute to myself. Considering how intense I’ve been with my feelings, it’s logical the guy I’m dating would be the one I met then.
“Speaking of meeting,” my mom says, lowering her mug with a smile, “How was that for you, Cole? Your first run-in with Natalie, I mean. The way she tells the story, you were her knight in shining armor that day. You know, she was so smitten she even called me and told me she thought she met the love of her life that night.”
Cole’s posture straightens. “Did she?”
My mom waves him off. “You probably know by now, Natalie’s full of feelings and loyal to a fault with them, even if something doesn’t sit right.”
Translation: Natalie will follow a douche to a college, despite our wishes, because she loved him once and feels like that means she has to keep loving him forever.
“So I wasn’t really surprised that she fell in love with you at first sight, but I’m wondering how it was for you? Did you feel the same way?”
I meet Cole’s stare, trying to convey to him he doesn’t need to debase himself and answer the question, but when our eyes lock his gaze is soft, holding me and my breath in that space.
“I did,” he says. “I still do. If I hadn’t been so nervous, I would have asked her out that day.” His mouth lifts into a sad, crooked smile as he glances over at me. “I kicked myself for a long time after because I thought I had missed my chance.”
“Glad it all worked out in the end, then. But I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself, son. It was quite the introduction. I’m surprised you didn’t just turn and run.” My dad laughs. “I love my girl, but Natalie can almost be too much sometimes.”
“Wow, thanks.” I stab at a strawberry on my plate. Cole turned and ran the first time he saw me—and I’m totally cool and not bitter about it all—but I don’t need my dad justifying his actions.
“Like I said, I love you, kiddo, but when I was his age—I don’t know if I would have done the shit he did that day. You’ve got a good guy there; don’t let him get away.”
Naturally at the end of this, Cole will get away.
By then my parents will probably love him even more and they’ll be disappointed to be left again with only me.
Tessa was probably right; it would have been better if I just pretended to be a party girl.
Or told them the truth. I hate lying to them.
When it was just on a phone it felt different, but now that it’s to their face it feels much grosser and wrong.
“She doesn’t have to worry about that.” Cole says, lacing his fingers with mine. “I know I’m the lucky one and I’m not going anywhere.” He lowers his mouth to my hand and brushes a sweeping kiss over my knuckles.
A lovesick glimmer flickers in Cole’s blue eyes as he meets mine and I almost fall for it.
But before I become the fool I’d truly be if I thought Cole Sinclair had feelings for me, I remember his words to me in the hallway.
“Darling, I’d be so in love with you, even you wouldn’t be able to tell what’s real or not. ”
And I stuff another pancake in my mouth, because hell, his plan is working.