Chapter Ten
BET ON IT
Cole
Igrab the thick black marker off Trey’s desk and stride straight to the wall, still holding the bracket. I proudly tack it up on the wall. The guys are lounging in the bay, waiting for the next call—or for me to fail.
Not today.
In bold, dramatic strokes, I scrawl “COMPLETE” next to Level One: Make her smile.
Trey whistles low. “No way.”
Brennan leans over my shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Witnesses?”
I don’t flinch.
They both groan like I’ve just broken every code of betting etiquette.
“Nope, doesn’t count without confirmation,” Trey says, flopping into the nearest chair. “You could be lying.”
I turn, deadpan. “Call Mikey. Her coworker was there. He saw it.”
Brennan pauses. “Wait. That guy with the red hair?”
“Yup.”
Trey grabs his phone, grinning. “Let’s go. I want to hear this from the source.”
I roll my eyes and head for the fridge. I’ve already won this one, but fine, let them have their fun. I crack open a water and sip while listening to Trey’s side of the conversation.
“Mikey! Yeah, man, it’s Trey. Listen—we’re running a very important investigation here. Did Cole, or did Cole not, make the Ice Queen smile today?”
A pause.
Then laughter from Trey—full and obnoxious.
“Confirmed,” he announces, tossing his phone onto the table like it’s a mic drop. “Mikey says she smiled and ate a slice of pie he brought her like it was a religious experience.”
Brennan grins. “Damn. Okay. Level One, official.”
I head back over, capping the marker and tossing it onto the desk.
“Next up?” I ask.
Trey checks the board. “Level Two: She talks to him for more than five minutes without telling him to get lost.”
“Great.” I lean against the wall, sipping my drink. “Any tips?”
“Don’t be yourself,” Brennan says, dead serious.
I flip him off, but it’s all noise now.
Truth is? I feel a little stupid. Not about the bracket. That’s just fun. But about why I’m even bothering.
Most girls? I could flirt, throw a smile, maybe grab a drink. Easy. And if it progresses, great—if not, no hard feelings. Plenty of fish in the sea.
Andi?
She’s not a game. She’s not someone who plays by the rules or gives a shit about my charm. She’s tough, sharp, all hard lines and don’t-fuck-with-me energy.
But there’s something else. Something beneath all that.
I want to know what it is.
Maybe I’m just wired to like a challenge. Maybe I’m tired of easy.
Or maybe… maybe I like her.
And she doesn’t scare me.
Not one bit.
I finish my water and toss the bottle, watching it bounce off the wall and land perfectly in the bin.
Trey claps once. “Alright, Romeo. What’s the plan for Level Two?”
I shrug, heading for the door. “We’ll see.”
But in my head?
I’m already thinking of ways to crack that armor of hers.
Because I’m all in now.
And I’m not backing down.
The morning sun is starting to heat up when I pull into the driveway, headlights cutting across the familiar yellow siding of the house.
My body’s wrecked—forty-eight hours of nonstop calls, adrenaline highs, and caffeine lows.
All I want is a shower, something greasy to eat, and maybe eight hours of sleep without dreaming about sirens.
I kill the engine of my truck and step out. My apartment above the garage is calling my name, but first, I head toward the house to grab the leftovers Mom always insists on making when I’m on shift. Not that I’ll ever complain about that.
The front door is unlocked, as usual, and I step inside, already unzipping my jacket. The smell hits me first—not garlic bread or baked pasta this time, but something lighter. Floral, almost. Perfume?
“Ma?” I call, dropping my keys into the dish by the door.
“Kitchen!” she yells back, her voice a little too cheerful for grading papers—which is what I usually find her doing on a Saturday.
I walk in and stop dead.
She’s at the counter, dressed in jeans and a soft pink sweater, her hair curled like she’s heading somewhere that isn’t the grocery store. Lipstick. Earrings. The whole nine.
“What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing the scene. Maybe she’s having her girlfriends over? But even then, they’re usually all casual.
She glances up, flushed but smiling. “Oh—hey, sweetheart. Didn’t think you’d be back this early.”
I lean against the doorway, arms crossed. “What’s going on?”
She laughs, brushing past me to grab her purse. “I’ve got plans.”
“Plans?” I echo, my eyes narrowing.
“Brunch. With a friend.”
I raise a brow. “A friend?”
She sighs, but she’s smiling. “Fine. A date.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
She looks at me, calm and casual like she didn’t just drop a bomb. “I signed up for one of those dating app things. Figured I’d give it a try.”
Confusion rushes through me. I open my mouth, close it, then open it again. “Since when?”
“Since Margot and Helen staged an intervention.” She shrugs like this is normal. “You’re not the only one who gets to have a life.”
“I didn’t say that,” I mutter, still trying to catch up.
“You’re thinking it.” She nudges me, grinning now. “Relax. It’s just coffee. I’ve got pepper spray and a fully charged phone.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “You met this guy online?”
“Yes, and his name’s Jack. He’s normal, I promise.”
I shake my head, laughing despite myself. “You’re really doing this?”
She softens. “Yeah. I think I need to.”
I don’t argue. Can’t. She deserves this. Hell, I want her to have it. But still.
“Alright,” I say, pushing off the doorframe. “Just—be smart, okay? Meet in public, don’t leave your drink unattended, and text me when you get there.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a worrywart.”
“Better than ending up as a news headline.”
She chuckles, grabbing her keys. “I’ll be fine, Cole.”
I follow her to the door, still uneasy but letting it go. “Have fun.”
She kisses my cheek on her way out. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I watch her get into her car, rubbing the back of my neck.
Great. Now I get to wonder what kind of guy thinks he’s good enough for my mom.