Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
“So, this is my place.” Cole says opening his apartment door with a flourish. His key rattles in the lock as his door swings wide.
“Oh my gosh. You live here?” I ask with mock wonder. “This is Caden’s apartment. How have I never noticed you here?”
Something I can’t decipher flickers briefly over Cole’s face like a crack in his usual arrogant facade.
In a blink, though, the vulnerability vanishes, his usual half-lidded swagger remains.
“I’d say make yourself at home, but you’ve practically moved in already.
” He swirls the key dangling from his finger around before tossing it onto the counter.
It’ll kill me to have her around all the time.
Cole’s words to his brother when we first met echo in the back of my mind. Back then, they’d stung. Today? I don’t know what to make of them. Especially not after Cole kissed me, a kiss that felt like he had yearned for my lips for centuries.
That’s Signature Sinclair, though, isn’t it? He flashes that smile, makes you feel like there’s no one else in the world, and then when the morning comes, he doesn’t even look at you.
I’ve seen the hopeful faces and good mornings that quickly turn into sagging shoulders and silent exits. I should know better.
Darling, I’d be so in love with you even you won’t be able to tell what’s real or not.
Did he have to go this hard?
“I’m not here that much.” I scowl, stepping over the threshold.
“You have your own mug.”
“Maybe I don’t want to catch your cooties.”
“Didn’t seem to care today when your face attacked mine,” Cole says with a smirk. He kicks his shoes off in the middle of the living room and gestures to the couch. “Oh look, the heating pad you use daily, and it’s still plugged in. How domestic.”
“I didn’t bring that here. Caden bought it after I had a bad flare one day. I can’t help it if your brother is sweet and thoughtful.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Those aren’t the two words I would use to describe him, and he didn’t buy that for you.”
“Then who did?” I ask. I didn’t buy it either. One day, after I was curled up in a ball on the floor, it suddenly appeared in their living room.
“I had one in my room for post-games and brought it out.”
Record players everywhere come to a screeching halt. The world tilts on its axis. The moon falls from the sky, and breaking news, it is made of cheese.
“You did?” I swallow. The air around us grows heavy.
Before today, I wouldn’t have believed Cole.
An act of kindness? Towards me? Sounds sus.
But I don’t know. He’s shown a softer side of himself today and I like it.
Maybe too much considering I want to swoon like an old-timey lady on fainting couch because he put a heating pad in the living room.
“I know, I know.” He waves me off, fluttering his eyelashes with a doe-like innocence. “You don’t have to tell me I’m sweet and thoughtful. I know I am.”
And urge to swoon over.
I roll my eyes. “Broken clock,” I say, pushing past him. I pause and glance over my shoulder. “But thank you. That was…nice of you.”
A tiny, nearly invisible smile plays on his lips as he gives me a small nod.
I shift my weight on my feet. I need pajamas, but I don’t want to keep asking Cole for more. He’s done enough for me today.
Contrary to what my mother had promised, my bag was not waiting outside my door when we went to grab it. My father’s snores echoed in the hallway, so I didn’t bother to knock.
Honestly, even if I had my bag, it wouldn’t help. The only pajamas in there are the cheeky black ones I foolishly packed in hopes of a snowstorm stranding my family at a hotel for a night on our drive back to Maine.
I need to remember to throw normal pajamas in there tomorrow before we leave, just in case.
“I’m going to go grab some clothes from Caden’s room to change into,” I say, turning.
“No, you’re not.” Cole’s voice is calm, but there’s a deadly undercurrent to it that says don’t push me on this.
My foot stops in mid-air. “Excuse me?”
“You agreed to be mine for two weeks, so you’re going to wear my clothes into my bed.”
“Okay, caveman.” I snort and face him. “You can’t be serious.”
He folds his arms across his broad chest and peers at me under the shadow of his thick eyelashes. A dare to challenge him that I can’t help but take.
“Okay, so, one, I’m not yours. I would never agree to that.”
“Maybe not yet. But you will.” He takes another step forward, stalking me like I’m his prey. “And when you are—” he reaches out and plucks at my sweatshirt. “—you won’t be wearing gymnastics sweatshirts to my games, or his clothes in my bed.”
For a few seconds, he stares at me, his eyes dark and intense. The air around us swirls, pulling me, begging me to press up on my toes and kiss him senseless. It feels like he’s casting some kind of incantation around me.
His words aren’t a threat. They’re a promise.
“You can keep your delusions, but no offense.” I lift my chin and try my best to channel a sharp, sarcastic response when the warmth between us invites me to melt and soften.
“I don’t want to put something on my skin that’s been on the floor for god knows how long and probably hasn’t been washed in years. ”
A slow dangerous smile rakes across Cole’s face. “Fair enough,” he says, waving a dismissive hand on me. “You can go.”
I arch a brow. “That’s it?”
“You made a valid point. Go get your clothes. I’m hungry and tired.”
“Okay?” I eye him, still skeptical. Cole has never surrendered that easily.
But I’m hungry and tired too, and I need to shower off the ice rink. I took an antihistamine not too long ago, but I’m still itchy.
I walk down the hallway that I’ve never been down, even though I’ve been in this apartment a million times.
In the morning, the women leave the first door, the pad of their steps too quick to be coming from the second.
This should be Cole’s then. It’s slightly ajar, and I know he loves his privacy, but I can’t help but peek.
Clothes are strewn all over the floor along with various old food wrappers and a box of condoms. Gross.
Thank god I didn’t accept clothes from him, and I definitely won’t be sleeping in here tonight.
Caden’s room is at the end of the hallway.
I push the door open. I don’t want to snoop, but also, I haven’t seen his room and I’m curious.
The na?ve part of me is hoping there’s a picture of us on his nightstand, maybe a journal with doodled hearts and Caden and Natalie forever scribbled all over it.
I don’t know, something that tells me I have a chance.
My fingers drag over the oak grain of his desk.
Everything in this room is immaculate. Tidy.
The bed is made with a plaid comforter smoothly pressed across it.
There isn’t a piece of clothing on the floor or a speck of dust to clog my lungs.
Cedar and lemon fill my nostrils as I slowly step through the room.
My fingers freeze over an Organic Chemistry textbook.
What the—? Caden is a psychology major, he wouldn’t need to take this class. Why does he have it?
I’ll have to text him. Ask him if he’s considering switching majors. He has the perfect disposition to be a doctor with an excellent bedside manner.
He’d also be stupidly attractive in scrubs.
Caden’s bureau is next to his desk. It’s sparse on top. I slide open the first drawer, quick to close it because—boxer briefs. I’m not that nosy. Okay, second drawer. Long-sleeve shirts and flannel pants. Perfect.
I pull out the top shirt and grab a pair of pajama pants.
On a corner of the shirt, the words “Pine Valley University Hockey” encircle a pair of hockey sticks. The number “25” and “Sinclair” are printed down the sleeve.
That’s weird. Why would Caden have Cole’s shirt?
I shrug and put it back, but the next shirt in the drawer is another Pine Valley University hockey shirt.
What the hell is going on?
Suddenly, Cole is leaning against the doorframe with a smug ass grin on his face. “So, how’s it going?” he asks.
“Is this some kind of prank?” I panic, picking up the second shirt and again, finding a very Cole-coded, decidedly not Caden’s, shirt underneath it.
“No, believe it or not, Natalie, I don’t spend my days wondering how I can mess with you.”
“But this is Caden’s room. Why does he have your shirts?”
“You sure it’s Caden’s room? It’d be odd for me to store my extra hockey stuff in here if it was.
” He nods to a corner of the room where a couple of hockey sticks are leaning.
I take a look around, catching the details I didn’t see before.
A hockey trophy, more pre-med books, and perhaps most damning of all, the business textbook from our shared class this semester.
“This—” My voice wobbles. “This is your room?”
“Glad you finally got there,” he says. With a wide grin, he walks over, snatches the pants from me, and turns back towards his drawer. “These are scratchy. Here.” He gives me a pair of worn black and green plaid pants. “And this is my favorite pajama shirt.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to take your favorite shirt.” I chew my lip. My brain is trying to process a thousand things all at once and damn near about to go up in flames. I can feel smoke coming out of my ears.
“I want you to. You’ll be comfy in this.” He smiles softly at me and eagerly shoves the clothes in my hands, but I don’t take them. “Hey? You okay?”
“This is your room,” I say again. “Your room.”
“Ah, you’re still spiraling over that. Yeah. I don’t know what he told you, Natalie, but Caden’s the slob, not me. Here.” This time he opens my hands and puts the clothes in them. “Sorry, I ugh—I didn’t think it’d hit you quite like this.”
“So, does that mean Caden’s the one who has houseguests regularly?” I squeak.
Cole’s eyebrows pinch together. “Uhm. Yeah. Natalie, I don’t even acknowledge his guests in the morning, because I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not. How much of an ass do you think I am?”
I go to open my mouth, and he shakes his head. “That was rhetorical.”
“He told me he’s never been on a date, though.”
“Yeah.” Cole scratches his head. “I don’t think he’s lying about that. He doesn’t go out with people, he just comes home with them.”
“To his room,” I say, three seconds away from a mental down. “Which is down the hall and not this room.”
“Yeah.” With every question Cole’s smug expression and tone continue to soften.
“He’s been lying to me? For years?” I ask, tears rimming my eyes. Caden. My best friend. One of my only friends.
Cole sighs. “Yeah. Shit, Natalie—I should have broken this to you better. I got so caught up in proving you wrong I didn’t think about what it’d mean to you, and—”
“Has he been lying to me about anything else?” I ask, cutting him off. I need to know how much of the past four years of my life has been a lie.
Cole opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he shakes his head, raking his hand through his hair. “Ugh, no. Nothing comes to mind anyway. Why don’t you change and I’ll go make us some grilled cheeses?”
My favorite.
But I can’t. I never eat here. “Actually, I’m not that hungry.”
An ungodly, inhumane sound from the depths of my stomach chooses that exact moment to betray me.
Cole flashes me a well-earned “girl please” look. “You’re eating,” he says. “Unless you can give me a better excuse than that.”
“Caden’s protein powder,” I say without looking at Cole.
“I—uhm—I actually wipe the counters down when you two leave for that reason, and I never eat peanut anything just in case.”
“In case what?” I ask, lifting my chin.
He slides his hands into his pockets with a sheepish shrug. “Some pretty girl with a peanut allergy wants to kiss me.”
I toss my head back and laugh. “Wow, what a line.”
He rocks back and forth on his toes. “Paid off for me today, didn’t it?” His lips tip up into a small smile.
Suddenly, I’m hypnotized by the tiny indentation puckering his cheek.
Did I know Cole has dimples? I trace the curve of his lips with my eyes, desperate to feel them against mine again.
I swallow. A tug, tug, tug tortures the pit of my stomach.
I’m about to press up on my toes when he reaches up and wipes a tear sliding down my cheek with the pad of his thumb.
His hand cradles my face, and for a beat, I think he’s about to bend down and claim my lips again.
Perhaps more terrifyingly, I want him to.
Instead, he exhales and drops his hand. “I’ll go make our grilled cheeses. Do you want to watch a movie after you get comfy? I’ll let you pick.”
“You sure you want to give me that power? It’ll probably be a romcom you’ll hate. Or a cheesy Christmas romance.”
“I’m game, but only if there’s a happily ever after. I don’t want any of that Nicholas Sparks shit.” He looks at me with a grave expression.
“Go, weirdo.” I shake my head and shove him out the door before I do something foolish.
Alone in Cole’s room, I take a deep breath, trying to settle my thoughts.
When I met Caden for the first time, he was sweet and kind.
But the very next time, he threw his brother under the bus and said Cole was the slob.
If he had feelings for me and was embarrassed, I guess that makes sense, but he’s never acted on those feelings.
So much so that he is possibly the biggest playboy in school, and he’s still made nothing close to a move on me.
And Cole. Cole, I’ve clearly misjudged. He’s not heartless. He’s done so many kind things for me behind the scenes, and who knows—he could have just been mad we were on his side of the dorm room when he came back from the cold.
Also, I’m kind of clueless with this stuff, but I’m pretty sure Cole Sinclair is actually flirting with me. Which is wild, but…I kind of like flirting back?
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Fuck it, I don’t know. I need to get out of my head. Maybe it’s time for a drink.