23. Chapter 23
Sadie
I told myself to breathe as we drove to the house. I hated working at the gym. Getting hit on and talked to like I was stupid had worn on me. And the pep club? I was never what anyone would call peppy.
I sighed. I’d do it with a smile. Cole deserved my help.
He’d save me and Alyssa from a hard life, and this was the least I could do for him.
I loved the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams, and I was happy I could help make them a reality.
It wasn’t as if I remembered what my dreams were anymore. Those had died with Grandma.
“Do you want your own bank account?” Cole asked, pulling me from my wallowing.
“What?”
“I don’t mind sharing an account, but if it makes you feel better, you can have your own.”
“Uhh… It doesn’t matter a whole lot.”
“Tell me your thoughts?”
I scratched my arm and tried to untangle my thoughts myself. “I feel funny spending money from your account. I’d feel more comfortable with my own so I’m not stressed about what I’m spending. But if you want to share, that’s fine.”
“You can have your own. I want you to be comfortable.”
When had I become like this? If you’d told me two years ago that I would marry a man for money, then agree to do a bunch of things I hated, I would have laughed. I glanced at Cole. He was talking about his hopes for the gym as he drove, but I wasn’t paying attention.
A real smile settled on my lips. I loved Cole’s enthusiasm. And his lips? I could watch them all day. I could also be happily attached to them all day, but that would go against what I said about being friends first.
Could we be friends first? I mean, we’d kind of jumped into the kissing thing pretty fast. Not that we’d done it more than a few times. The memories jumped into my thoughts more than I wanted to admit. I turned to look out the window to avoid drooling. Cole was unfairly attractive.
“What are you thinking?” Cole asked.
“None of your business,” I answered way too fast.
He chuckled. “That bad?”
“I don’t want you getting a big head over my thoughts.” Why do stupid things keep slipping out of my mouth these days?
He was quiet for a moment, and I didn’t look over.
“We were talking about bank accounts. You don’t want me getting a big head about money?”
I smiled out the window. “Sure. Something like that.”
“I’ve always had money. You knowing it doesn’t change the size of my head.”
“You’re such a dork,” I said, smiling. “I wasn’t talking about money. You’re just a hard person to be friends with.”
He laughed. “Like I haven’t heard that before. I know, it’s my personality. It makes people run.”
I glanced at him. His eyes were sparkling. He was playing dumb, but he knew exactly what I wasn’t saying.
“I’m just saying,” I said, finally looking over. “It would be easier to be friends if you weren’t so pretty.”
“Pretty?” he choked out. “Did you just call me pretty?”
I giggled. “Forget I said anything.”
“Nope. Too late. I’m offended. And dangerously encouraged.”
My face went hot. “Can we talk about something else?”
“About the fact that you find me attractive, but don’t like my personality?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I said.”
“That’s what I heard.”
He turned down a long driveway, and I stared at the massive house ahead of us.
“You heard wrong. I like most things about you.” Why was I like this?
I jumped out of the car before he could respond. I probably seemed unhinged. One minute I wanted to be friends. The next, I was practically confessing I was gone on him.
We stared up at the house. It wasn’t a mansion, but it felt enormous to me.
Gray stone wrapped around the front, broken up by tall windows with black shutters.
The roofline had angles and peaks instead of the flat lines I was used to seeing above apartment complexes.
The yard stretched wide, freshly cut, with young trees planted in careful rows like someone had planned the future here.
“It’s solid,” Cole said, studying the stone. “I like that.”
Solid. That was a good word. Stable. Permanent. The opposite of everything I’d known.
“I like the colors.”
“Should we go in? Dax said he left it unlocked.”
“Yep.” I hurried down the sidewalk and up the steps. I couldn’t stand there next to Cole while my lips were thinking of attacking him.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.
Cool air wrapped around me. The entryway opened high above us, sunlight spilling through a tall window and catching in a chandelier that probably cost more than my old car.
The tiled floor gleamed. A staircase curved up one side, dark railing against pale walls.
A hallway stretched in the other direction, leading into rooms I couldn’t see yet.
I was going to live here. Probably.
My entire apartment could have fit in this entryway.
Cole stepped in beside me. “Looks nice.”
Nice.
I folded my arms so he wouldn’t see how badly I wanted to explore everything. I wanted to walk through every room alone and imagine what it would be like to belong here. I just didn’t want him watching my face while I did it.
“I’m not sure what I think about the color,” he said, running his hand over the beige wall.
“The color is fine,” I said, walking down the hall.
He followed me into the kitchen.
My heart thudded.
Gray granite stretched across the counters, smooth and polished like something out of a magazine.
The cabinets were white and tall, reaching toward a ceiling that didn’t feel cramped or stained or like it had absorbed years of other people’s cooking.
The floor glimmered with wide planks that practically begged someone to run and slide across them in socks.
I’d never had a kitchen where you could spin without hitting something.
“This is… nice,” I managed.
I’d spent so many nights calculating grocery budgets at a chipped laminate counter. This felt like a place where people baked for fun instead of survival.
“It’s a little squishy,” Cole said. “But if you don’t mind—”
“Are you serious?” I bumped him with my shoulder. “This is huge.”
“Compared to our apartments, I guess it is.”
I’d been impressed with Tiffany’s house, but it hadn’t awed me. It wasn’t mine. This place could be.
I slipped off my shoes.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked.
“Testing the floor.”
He tilted his head.
I took a few running steps and slid across the planks until I bumped into the island.
He laughed. “Does it pass?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, breathless. “With flying colors. Try it.”
“I’ll trust you.”
I dropped to the floor. “Give me your foot.”
“You can’t have my foot.”
“You’re going to slide. Let me take your shoe off.”
“No way.”
I glared. He smirked. Then he lifted his foot.
I pulled off one shoe, then the other. There was a giant hole in the toe of his sock.
“Can’t afford socks, Mr. Hart?”
He laughed. “I’m lazy about things like that.”
I thought of his messy apartment. “I’m not shocked.”
I held out my hands, and he hauled me to my feet.
“Let’s see it,” I said.
He backed into the living room, then ran forward and slid. He made it halfway across the kitchen before wiping out.
Cole burst out laughing. “Good thing I played football and not hockey. I’m not graceful.”
“Break anything?”
“Nope. Pull me up.”
He held out his hands. I grabbed them and pulled. He didn’t move.
“You might have to help,” I said. “You’re not light.”
He yanked downward, and I crashed down on top of him.
“Real mature, Cole.”
“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “It was the only way to get you down here.”
I pushed against his chest. “Do you know what friends means?”
He pulled me onto his lap. “Best friends, right?”
My heart jumped. “Only because I don’t have any other friends.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
I should have stood up. I should have.
But those lips were taunting me.
“Friends, friends, friends,” I muttered.
His nose brushed mine. “Say it again. I might believe you.”
“Friends,” I whispered.
Then I kissed him.