Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
COLE
Headache territory
A few days later
Adele texted me that she had a migraine, so I wasn’t going over to her apartment for the first time in, well, so long that it made me feel uncomfortable. I missed her.
That evening, I stared at my phone screen, wondering what to do.
“You’re not going over tonight?” Lincoln asked as he plunked down on the couch in the common area.
“No,” I said with a sigh. “Adele said she has a migraine.”
His brows hitched up. “Oh, dude, you’re in headache territory.”
“Don’t say that,” I muttered, because I was legit panicking inside. “That’s what she said,” I added. “So, uh, what do I do?”
Just then, Asher came walking in, sitting down on the other side of the sectional and looking curiously between us. “What?”
“Adele has a migraine,” Lincoln said.
Grady happened to walk in and caught the tail end of his comment. “Uh-oh,” he said, his voice dropping like a warning bell. “Headache territory. Dude, how many times have we discussed that it’s not a good idea to get involved with someone who works here?”
“Hey!” I protested. “Whatever.” I sighed, resting my elbows on my knees and running my hands through my hair. When I lifted my head again and let my hands dangle, I looked around at my brothers. Their collective worry was a force as they all eyed me. “Oh, God, don’t look at me like that.”
“Did you even try to talk to her before this migraine?” Grady asked.
“Weren’t you supposed to talk to her?” Lincoln added somberly before glancing between my brothers. “He was worried Adele was distant.”
Just then—because the universe apparently hated me—Haven and Jude came walking in.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked, my tone a little sharp.
“Hey, what’s wrong with us stopping by?” Haven replied. “We were supposed to go over the schedule together.”
“Adele has a migraine,” Lincoln said, apparently having appointed himself in charge of telling everyone this detail.
“Aw, hell,” Haven muttered as he sat down on the couch between Asher and Grady.
Jude sat beside Lincoln, lacing his hands over a knee as he cocked his head to the side and studied me. “What the hell did you do?” Jude asked bluntly.
“Nothing. I did nothing!” I exclaimed.
“Maybe part of the problem. Apparently, he was supposed to talk to her about something,” Grady supplied helpfully.
All eyes turned to me again. I took a breath, steeling myself. “Ever since we got back from Katmai, and that whole thing happened with that guy, Adele’s been a little distant. I don’t know what’s going on,” I admitted. “Lincoln suggested I talk to her.”
“And you didn’t even try to talk to her?” Jude asked, eyes narrowing.
“Not about this,” I muttered, dragging a palm along my stubbled jawline. “I’ve never had a serious relationship. I don’t know how the fuck to do this. Fat lot of good you all are doing.”
“Well, you didn’t even mention any of this to me,” Haven pointed out.
“Fuck my life.” Running my hands through my hair, I glanced around. “So what do I do?”
“Let’s assume Adele does have a migraine,” Jude said, ever the levelheaded one. “She seems like an honest person. So you let her rest tonight, but send her a text. Tell her you’ll check on her in the morning. Maybe offer to bring her ibuprofen and soup.”
“Ibuprofen and soup?” Asher repeated, brows arching high.
“And then,” Jude continued, “if she feels better in the morning, maybe try to talk to her. Don’t let it fester. Just tell her you’re not sure how she feels, and you don’t want to fuck this up.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s all you say,” Haven said with a nod.
“Or,” Grady added helpfully, “we could go over as a group. You know, backup for you.”
“Oh my fucking God.”
That night, if I got even four hours of sleep, they were broken and fitful. I was exhausted by the following morning. I’d played and replayed multiple variations of this hypothetical conversation with Adele in my head hundreds of times.
By the time the sun finally rose, I was weary of my own thoughts. The day rolled along, and I finally decided to text Adele when I didn’t hear from her. I crafted my text carefully and rewrote it twice. Finally, I even showed it to Lincoln.
He read it and nodded. “It looks good. The tone is just right. It sounds like you care, but you’re not being overbearing.” He glanced up at me, his lips twitching at the corners. “Just hit send.”
My thumbs hovered over the screen long enough that Lincoln snatched the phone from my hands, added something, and tapped the screen to send the text.
“What did you just add?!” I exclaimed.
“Nothing,” he said innocently.
“Give me that.” I gestured for the phone, and he handed it back with a wink.
When I reviewed the text, my stomach dropped. He’d added: I love you.
My pulse skipped a beat. It wasn’t that I hadn’t told Adele I was falling in love with her. I had. But I honestly still didn’t know how she felt. My doubts had overtaken any confidence I had in her feelings for me.
“Hey, man, don’t look so panicked,” Lincoln said. “It’s okay.”
“Should I go check on her?”
“Yes! Maybe put us out of the misery of watching you. Go check on her,” Jude said as he walked into the gear room.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath as I hustled out the door.