Chapter 10
Hailey
Iroll over and instantly regret it because my lips still feel a little bruised and my body remembers exactly what it felt like to be pinned against an elevator wall by six-foot-two of very bad idea.
“Ughhh,” I groan into the pillow.
Last night rushes in fast. The bar. The laughing. The darts. The flirting. The way he looked at me… And then the elevator. God, that kiss.
It wasn’t even a polite oops, we accidentally brushed mouths kind of kiss.
It was hungry. It was I’ve been thinking about this nonstop.
Even the way he so casually unzipped my coat like he owned the right to do that, like I was his and he was merely trying to get closer to me.
And I let him. I melted against him, clung to him. I was all in.
And then… his words hit like a kick to the chest. “Don’t read into this. It shouldn’t have happened.”
I fling the blankets off like they’re to blame. “Well, merry freaking Christmas to me.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and squint at the red smear on the back of my hand. It’s my gloss from where I wiped it in the elevator. So yeah, not a dream. My mouth was, in fact, on Cole Bristol’s mouth. More than once.
For a solid thirty seconds I let myself fantasize about the version where this is fine.
Where I text Maddie and say, “So don’t freak out, but your hot older brother and I kind of fell into each other and it was…
a thing.” And she shrieks and says, “OH MY GOD. THIS IS PERFECT.” And we all spend Christmas together somewhere snowy and I get to keep my best friend and the man who kisses like that.
Because in that version, Maddie is thrilled that the two people she loves most are together. In that version, Cole doesn’t look like he just committed a felony as the elevator doors closed.
But the real version? The one where I saw his face after that second kiss, his jaw tight, eyes already avoiding mine, voice flat? That version is the one I have to live in.
He meant it. He was walking it back even as my lips were still tingling.
I flop backward on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and talk to the air. “Okay. Fine. It was just a stupid, hot, post-drinks kiss.” I point upward like I’m making a legal statement. “We are not pursuing anything. We are adults. We will move on. No one ever has to know.”
Because I can’t tell her. I can’t tell Maddie “Hey, remember how you made your brother my emergency contact? Well, surprise. I made out with him in an elevator like a horny teenager and now it’s fucking weird.
” Not when he literally said don’t read into it.
I’m not that girl. I’m not going to force a plotline on a man who slammed the door on it.
Still… my body hums remembering it. And my heart is traitorous enough to hope that maybe he just panicked and he’ll send me a groveling apology text later.
I drag a hand over my face. “Nope. We’re not doing that.” I sit up straighter. “He’s Maddie’s brother. He has history. He clearly has rules about this. You respect the boundary.”
I swing my legs off the bed and my toes hit the cold floor. My apartment looks extra bright this morning, like it’s trying its hardest to cheer me up. The gallery wall he hung for me catches the light. The bookshelf he fixed stands perfectly straight, smug as hell.
Of course it does. Of course he put his stupid, big man hand fingerprints all over my place so even in my home I can’t escape him.
“Whatever,” I mutter, pushing to my feet. “It was fun and dumb and now it’s over.”
I pad into the kitchen, start coffee, and check my phone. No text from Cole. A pathetic little zing of disappointment shoots through me, so I stomp on it. Hard.
I grab my mug and head for the shower, rolling my eyes at myself. “You kissed him, he panicked, you move on. It’s fine.”
And if it stings a little? If there’s this low, stupid ache under my ribs because for a minute my dumb ass might have thought that it could be something? Well, I’ll just call it a hangover.
By the time I’m dressed, hair twisted up, and boots laced, I’ve checked my phone four times. Nothing. Just an empty notification bar and a weather alert telling me it’s going to be cold. No shit.
“Right,” I tell my reflection in the elevator mirror. “This is what it looks like when a man means what he says.” I square my shoulders. “Great. We love mature communication. We adore boundaries.”
My chest still pinches on the walk to work but at least I get to enjoy the city’s Christmas decorations.
Priya waves me over the second I get to my desk. “Morning, Denver’s newest IT woman.”
I snort. “Oh wow, I’m the new IT woman in town?”
“The hottest,” she says, then leans in. “All-hands in fifteen. Dillon’s going over the holiday volunteer shifts for the annual Denver Christmas Market.”
While I wait for my computer to load, I tap my phone awake again. Still nothing.
“Who are you waiting on?” Priya asks, way too perceptive, dropping into the chair beside my desk like this is girl talk o’clock.
I school my expression. “No one. Just checking the time. Don’t want to be late for the meeting.”
“Mm-hmm.” She gives me a knowing smile. “Well, come on. Let’s go have our yearly ‘we’re a good company who gives back’ pep talk.”
We crowd into the big conference room with the others. Ben and Zach are already there, arguing over whose fantasy football team is more tragic. A paper Christmas banner hangs crooked over the whiteboard, and someone drew a snowman with sunglasses and a martini.
Dillon, our boss, claps his hands together at the front of the room. “Alright, team, listen up. Quick one today. As you know, every December we volunteer at the Denver Christmas Market. This year, we’ve been assigned to the cocoa tent.”
A collective cheer goes up. Zach pumps a fist. “Hell yes, free cocoa.”
Dillon laughs. “Yes, but you’ll be serving it, not drinking all of it, so temper your excitement.
” He clicks the remote, and the volunteer schedule pops up on the big screen.
“We’re partnering with the downtown market for three days this week—Wednesday through Friday.
We’ll need two people per shift. It’s a great way to give back, meet locals, and freeze your asses off in the name of holiday spirit. ”
Someone from the back calls, “Do we get tips?”
Dillon deadpans, “Only warm feelings in your heart.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the room. I glance around at my new coworkers, people who seem to have built-in friends here, people who belong. I want that, and my hand shoots up before I can think when Dillon says “Who wants to sign up for Thursday evening’s shift?”
“I’ll take it,” I say.
Dillon grins. “Love the enthusiasm, Hailey. We need that kind of energy around here.”
“Yeah, until she realizes it’s below freezing,” Zach mutters, earning a few chuckles.
Dillon scans the room again. “Anyone else with Hailey for Thursday evening? Come on, don’t make the new girl man the cocoa tent alone.”
Priya sighs dramatically and raises her hand. “Fine, I’ll do it. But only if I get first pick of marshmallows.”
“Deal,” Dillon says, typing it in. “Thursday—Priya and Hailey.”
After the rest of the schedule is filled, the meeting wraps, everyone heading for the door with their cocoa jokes and holiday chatter. I hang back, clutching my notebook to my chest like it’s a shield.
Priya elbows me lightly. “Look at you, volunteering and everything. Maybe you’ll meet someone cute serving cocoa.”
“Maybe,” I say too brightly. “But knowing my luck, I’ll just meet a bunch of kids on sugar highs.”
“Both can be terrifying,” she deadpans. “At least you’ll be with me.” She winks as we walk back to our desks. “No way I was leaving you alone with one of the boys.”
Back at my desk, I try to focus on my work. Lines of code blur in front of me while my thoughts circle the same stupid loop of trying to find the hidden meaning that Cole secretly meant when he said it was a mistake.
I scroll through emails. Refresh Slack. Check my phone again. Nothing.
By noon, I’ve read the same bug report four times and absorbed none of it. Every time the office door opens, I flinch like maybe somehow, impossibly, he’s about to walk in.
“Earth to Hailey,” Priya says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, forcing a smile. “Just… brain’s fried. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep.”
“Same,” she says. “I’m grabbing lunch soon if you want to come.”
“I might take an early one,” I tell her. “Walk. Clear my head.”
“Good call.” She stands, eyeing me with mock suspicion. “If you secretly have a hot date, I expect details.”
I snort. “Trust me, I’d tell you. The only hot thing I’m meeting today is my coffee.”
She heads off, and I exhale, sagging back in my chair. My phone sits face down next to my keyboard, but I can feel it like a heartbeat.
Fine, just one last check.
But of course, there’s still nothing from Cole. I bite my lip and force myself to close my laptop.
Time for a reset. Fresh air. Sunshine. Coffee. Anything to remind myself there’s more to Denver than one complicated, off-limits man.
I grab my purse, loop my scarf around my neck, and head for the elevators.
It’s one of those crisp winter afternoons where Denver tricks you into thinking it’s spring. The sun’s out, the snow’s melting in little glittery puddles, and for a second I convince myself I’m fine.
See? All you needed was some fresh air. You’re fine. Totally fine.
I tug my scarf tighter and head down the block. There’s this cute place I noticed last week I’ve been wanting to check out. Inside smells like heaven. Espresso, sugar, cinnamon. The instant pick-me-up I need.
I stare at the menu as the line inches forward.
There’s an array of gourmet sandwiches and grain bowls as well as fancy mocktail elixirs that promise to make you feel rejuvenated.
I’m next in line so I step up to the counter, poised to order when the low rumble of a familiar laugh cuts through the noise.
My entire body goes still. It’s not possible. It can’t be. I turn my head, casual and slow, like I’m just stretching my neck, and sure enough, it’s Cole.
Sitting two tables away by the window, sunlight hitting his jaw just so, sleeves rolled up, a navy flannel that makes his eyes look stupidly blue. He’s leaning slightly forward, listening to the woman across from him.
She’s gorgeous, stunningly so. She looks exactly like the kind of woman all of those rom-coms I watched growing up made me think I’d be. She laughs at something he says and touches his wrist lightly, the kind of easy, confident touch that screams we’ve done this before.
My stomach drops straight to my boots. The barista calls “Next!” but my throat feels glued shut.
It shouldn’t sting. We’re nothing. One kiss—two, technically—doesn’t make us something. But God, watching him sit there, looking relaxed and charming, while I’ve spent all morning dissecting his silence?
It’s humiliating.
The woman leans closer, saying something I can’t hear, and Cole smiles. Not the half smirk I usually get, but a real, easy smile. Like he’s comfortable. Like he’s fine.
The barista tries again. “Miss?”
I jerk my head toward the counter. “Oh, uh—medium vanilla latte, please.” My voice cracks halfway through, and I have to clear my throat to finish the order.
When I glance back, he’s still there. Except now he’s looking right at me.
Our eyes lock for one awful heartbeat. His expression doesn’t change.
No surprise, no warmth, no apology. Just that calm, unreadable stare.
Then, like it’s nothing, he looks away and goes right back to his conversation.
It’s such a small motion, so casual, but it slices clean through me.
The barista stares at me like this is my first time ever ordering coffee. “Name?”
“Hailey,” I manage, trying to smile.
She scribbles it on the cup. I pay, thank her, and turn to go stand in the corner until I can leave before I can make a fool of myself. When they do call my name, I practically sprint to the counter to grab it and run out of the place like my ass is on fire.
Every step feels heavier. My pulse is in my ears, my throat tight. Outside, the sunlight suddenly feels harsh. By the time I hit the sidewalk, I’m muttering under my breath, “You idiot.”
This is what I get for hoping. For thinking maybe there was something under that kiss besides attraction and bad timing. For reading between lines that weren’t even there.
I take a long sip of my latte, scald my tongue, and huff out a bitter laugh. “Serves you right.”
Because if I needed a reminder, I just got it loud and clear. This is why you don’t kiss men you don’t know, especially when they’re your best friend’s brother.