Chapter 7
I’ve committed to playing the long game with Cole. I mean, obviously twelve years is quite possibly the longest game I could play, but I kind of figured once I moved back here things would escalate quickly.
I was wrong.
Despite reaching out to her for help with Thea, despite revealing my stalker-ish tendencies on her Instagram, Cole continues to pretend like I don’t exist every time we cross paths. Which is frequently. This is a small town, after all.
We ran into each other at the grocery store last week.
My eye caught hers as soon as she turned down the pasta aisle.
She was wearing sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that said “I could be meaner” across the front.
I, however, could not help the quirk of my lips at that.
Cole immediately clocked it, scowled, abandoned her cart, and walked straight out of the store.
That’s when I realized she wasn’t kidding about her hatred of me. My hands tingled, my blood rushed, and my heart literally skipped a beat—finally, a challenge. Finally someone who actually makes me feel something.
Walking over to her cart, I looked in to see the ingredients for carbonara.
Not surprising, Cole would pick one of the most complicated pasta dishes to perfect.
Because there was no doubt in my mind that she makes a phenomenal carbonara.
I paced the pasta aisle before picking out a fusilli noodle, buying her entire abandoned cart, and dropping the bags at her apartment door.
The last part was the most difficult part of my plan. I ended up asking Ethel if she knew where Cole lived, which, of course, she did. Ethel knows everything. I knew I’d probably have to answer her probing questions later, but it was worth it.
Cole and I have had several similar interactions over the past few months, as winter is slowly melting into spring. Which is why I’m not surprised to see her when I’m walking to check-in on progress at the coffee shop. What is surprising is that she’s with someone.
She’s never with someone. Cole is a loner, through and through.
She had one friend throughout middle and high school, Maya, who come to think of it, I haven’t ever seen in any of Cole’s social media posts.
But right now she’s with a tall, tan brunette woman, standing outside of Harriet’s flower shop.
And she’s laughing.
An insane flare of jealousy hits me square in the chest. She’s so beautiful when she laughs, her red hair practically glows in the afternoon sun, ponytail shaking back and forth as she nods at whatever the woman is saying.
The woman’s hand slides around Cole’s waist, pulling her in to whisper something in her ear, and I see red, literally.
My feet are moving before my brain has a conscious thought about what the fuck I’m doing. All I know is this is wrong, Cole is supposed to be mine.
Casually, I grab a red carnation as I sidle up to Cole and her new friend.
I use the term “friend” loosely because Cole is now whispering back in her ear in a decidedly not-friendly way.
As nonchalantly as possible, I accidentally bump into Cole while reaching for another flower that just happens to be right in front of where she’s standing.
“Hey!” she snaps, whipping her head around to glare at me before growling, “Benjamin.”
There she is. That’s the Cole I know and—“Colette! I didn’t see you there. What a coincidence that we would both be getting flowers at Harriet’s right this very moment. The smallest world!”
Her eyes narrow, something I choose to ignore, and instead I pretend to only just notice the woman beside her, who is almost eye level with me.
Sticking my hand out to shake, she clasps it with a surprisingly firm grip.
“Hi there, I’m Ben. Are you Colette’s friend?
I honestly didn’t know she had friends. Good for you, Red.
We’ve all been rooting for you.” I wink, to piss her off even more.
It works. She straightens up to her full height, still a good head below me, and points her thumb behind her. “This is Heather. We are on a date, so if you could just…” She waves me off.
“A date?” I ask, feigning shock. I lean in close and whisper, loud enough for Heather to hear, “Does she know?”
“Do I know what?” Heather asks, looking confused as hell.
Cole ignores her, instead attempting to incinerate me on the spot with the heat of her gaze. “There’s nothing for her to know, Benjamin.”
“You wound me, Red. I think it’s imperative for her to know that you are promised to another,” I retort.
“‘Promised to another’? Was I involved in some nobleman’s trade that I’m unaware of? Have I been dropped into an episode of Punk’d? Where’s Gabe? Is he filming?” She’s breathless by the time she finishes her rant.
And Heather is—blissfully—backing away slowly from the red-faced Cole.
Shrugging, I answer her first question. “Something like that.”
“What the fuck, Benjamin?” She starts to take a step toward me but she miscalculates her surroundings, her elbow knocking into one of the buckets of flowers.
It tips, dumping all of the orange lilies onto Cole’s tights-clad legs.
We both try to stop the bucket from completely emptying, unfortunately causing a collision of both of our heads.
In an attempt to steady herself, Cole’s hand clasps onto another bucket of flowers, completely emptying its contents as well.
“Fucking hell, Colette. Stop moving.”
She does just that, literally freezing in her place on the sidewalk. She’s surrounded by a sea of orange lilies and yellow carnations. Her bottom half is soaked with flower water, and Heather is nowhere to be seen.
“Let me go pay Harriet for these. Stay here.” My hand wraps around the front door to the small flower shop before I pause to add, “Please.”
Harriet is confused as to what happened, and honestly, so am I. While I will admit that my intentions were to run off anyone who felt like they could touch Cole, I do feel a small bit of remorse about how it was done.
Turns out, leaving Cole alone was a bad idea though, because by the time I make it back outside, there’s a look of pure determination on her face. She watches as I pick up all of the flowers around her, not bothering to help. She just stands there, arms folded and hip cocked to the side.
And I’m down here. On my knees for her. A place I’d be pretty content to stay.
So I do. While I’m still down on one knee, I look up at her and smirk, presenting the bouquet in my hands as an offering.
“Colette Russell, will you—” The smallest flash of surprise crosses her face, as if she doesn’t quite know how I’m going to finish that sentence. “Take these flowers home with you? Think of me every time you look at them.” I bite my lip, holding back my grin.
“Yes, I will,” she responds, matter-of-factly. “And I hope you didn’t have any plans this afternoon because you will also be coming home with me. You’ve ruined two of my attempts to fuck someone, so congratulations. You’ll be the one getting me off today. Get up, let’s go.”
She doesn’t wait for my response, she simply starts walking. And I’ll be damned if I don’t scramble after her like a lovesick puppy.