CHAPTER 22
Quinn
We wander through South Bank Parklands and I feel light in my chest, like I’ve borrowed someone else’s good mood. The smell of tacos and sweet chilli sauce hangs in the air, and the trees rustle as we stroll. It’s peaceful. Easy.
Today turned out better than I expected. I was sure my panic attack would wreck everything, the way they usually do, but the second I walked into Avellana, it was like something clicked back into place.
It makes me glad that I committed to that design course.
It ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
My skills were rusty after years away, but it felt good to wake that part of me up again.
Cole kept me going, driving me there and back for the workshops this past week, never once complaining.
“So,” Cole says, kicking at a loose stone on the path, “what’d you think of the extension?”
“It looks bigger now that I’m sober,” I reply.
He bursts out laughing, and I jab my elbow into his side. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Cole.”
“I’m innocent.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender, but the spark in his eyes gives him away.
“Okay, whatever you say, Chad,” I tease, and that gets a full-bodied laugh out of him—the kind that makes people nearby glance our way.
We follow the gravel path toward the food trucks, the warm glow of string lights stretching across the street. The air smells like spice and grilled meat, a mix of laughter and sizzling oil wrapping around us.
“So, what’s the story there? With the bar?” I ask, tilting my head at him.
He shrugs. “Markus left it to me in his will.”
I slow a little. “Did he ever say why?”
“Nope, just that I’d get the inheritance when it was completed.”
“What are you planning to do with the money?” I ask. I can’t help but wonder if the article was right about the amount he’s set to inherit. But it’s not my place, so I don’t push.
“I’m planning a year-long trip around the world. I’ve always wanted to travel but never had the time or money to do it.”
“That sounds amazing,” I say, though a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe—twists in my chest. The thought of him leaving right after finishing the bar stings more than I expect. “Sophie’s always trying to convince me to go away with her.”
“Where would you go if you could go anywhere?”
“I’d love to see Paris. I know it’s cliché, but we’ve always wanted to go.”
“You should.”
“I will one day, but right now I have to start building my portfolio for my design business.”
Our shoes crunch over the gravel path, the night air cooling against my skin while cicadas hum in the pause between us. The line for the food trucks comes into view: colourful lights, sizzling sounds, and the scent of lime and coriander.
“So how’s it feel to be designing again?” he asks.
I glance down at my bag where my tablet sits snug in its case. “Peaceful,” I admit. “For the first time in a while, I’m just glad to be doing something that feels like me again.”
I’d forgotten how calm my head gets when I’m layering colour palettes and choosing textures. Standing in Avellana reminded me exactly why I fell in love with design in the first place. The thought lingers warmly even as my stomach growls loud enough to betray me.
Cole’s lips twitch. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admit as we reach the row of trucks.
Cole guides us toward a Mexican one and orders two burritos with sour cream, handing over a few bills to the duo behind the counter.
We wait under the canopy lights, the air thick with the smell of toasted tortillas and citrus.
When our food’s ready, we carry it to a nearby table and sit.
I take a bite of mine, savouring the perfect balance of spice and crunch.
I hadn’t realised how hungry I was—I’d skipped breaks all day, too wrapped up in plans to notice the hours sliding by.
“Whoa.” Cole chuckles, watching me demolish half the burrito in record time. “You planning on breathing between bites?”
I cover my mouth with a napkin, glaring at him. “I told you I was starving.”
“You surprise me every day.” He grins, then leans closer like he’s letting me in on a secret. “And honestly, you’re picking up renovating faster than some of the guys I work with.”
I snort, nearly choking on my burrito. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I mean, have you seen the house I bought?”
“It’s not that bad.” He dips his burrito into some sauce. “But why’d you buy it if you didn’t like it?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Josh swore it had ‘charm.’ I wanted to believe him, but deep down it never felt right.”
I don’t even know why I brought up Josh. I could’ve blamed the house on a million other things, and the second his name left my mouth I wished I had. Still, some part of me wanted Cole to hear it, like he needed to know the full picture.
“Yeah, he seems like an asshole.”
“Oh, you have no idea…”
He nods as he swallows his last bite, fingers drumming against his burrito wrapper. “I get it. I had a girlfriend like that once. Picked out a wedding ring without us ever talking about marriage.”
My head snaps to him. “Wait—you were nearly engaged? When?”
“A year and a half ago, and not really. Kass picked the ring, sent the jeweller’s details… never asked what I wanted.”
“She sounds awful. What happened?”
“I thought I loved her.” He shrugs, the movement tight. “But eventually I had to accept that we wanted different things in life.”
“Like what?”
“You know, a family, something real. Not all the handbags and champagne lunches she was always chasing.”
I study him for a moment, the way his jaw tenses like the memory still stings, and I feel something stir in my chest. Recognition. Josh’s face flashes in my mind, a reminder of how different things could have been if I’d stayed.
“I’m so sorry, Cole. You deserve more than that.”
“It ended up being for the best. I found out later she was sleeping with one of her ex-boyfriends.”
I wince. “Well, it’s her loss. And for the record, I think you dodged a bullet.”
His laugh breaks the tension, and it pulls one out of me too as we toss our rubbish into a nearby bin.
“Are you looking to date again?” I ask.
“Nope. I don’t really have the time to meet anyone.” He wipes his hands on a napkin, flashing me a crooked smile. “What about you?”
I blink at his answer, weirdly relieved to hear he’s not looking either, though I can’t pin down why. It’s not like it should matter.
“I’d rather not, but Sophie is trying to get me to go on one.” I groan, rolling my eyes. “But I don’t think I will.”
“If you need an escape plan, I’ll be your guy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, though I know I’d probably never take him up on that offer, not when I have Sophie to bail me out, but it was sweet of him to offer.
We continue walking back through the Parklands toward Avellana. This morning’s panic attack feels like a lifetime ago, replaced now by the strange, disarming ease of being with Cole. And somehow, that ease terrifies me more than the panic ever did.