Chapter 11
eleven
After Cole sped out of Parkhurst’s parking lot, Ainsley resumed begging me to go to The Corner Cup with her before my “sleepover,” and since I still hadn’t found a way to process that guilt yet, and I assumed Cole would just head home and not go straight to work, I begrudgingly agreed.
I could just walk to dad’s after. I could use the caffeine to deal with Hillary anyways.
It was my first time going to The Corner Cup immediately after school, but it was clear that every teen in the area knew about it.
The place was filled with students either wearing blue-and-silver uniforms from Parkhurst or red-and-gold from Crofton Academy, our rival school.
It was also louder than it had been the other evening, with the music overhead thudding and voices bouncing off the walls.
I would have had trouble if it was like this when I’d come by to study, but I guess they made it calmer in the evenings.
I looked toward the counter before I could stop myself, my eyes scanning the space behind it in a way that felt automatic, like muscle memory. I told myself it was just a habit, just checking how long the line was or who was working.
But all I confirmed was that Cole wasn’t there.
Relief washed through me, quick and sharp, followed immediately by something else that made absolutely no sense. Disappointment, maybe. Which was stupid. I didn’t come here for him. I didn’t care if he was working. I especially didn’t care that I’d kind of hoped he wouldn’t be.
I didn’t recognize the girl behind the counter since it wasn’t Katie, but I guess it made sense that they had more people working here than just their family.
I joined the line, hands shoved into my sleeves, rehearsing my order in my head like it might change if I didn’t keep it locked in.
When it was finally my turn, I stepped forward and opened my mouth.
“Could I get a—”
“Gingerbread loaf and a large Heartbreaker.”
My entire body went still at the voice.
Cole was leaning against the counter to my left, just far enough behind the shelves to be hidden from view when I was in line.
He was wearing a dark hoodie with the sleeves pushed up just enough to show his wrists, black jeans, and beat-up converse that looked like they’d been through several bad life choices.
His hair was messier than usual, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times and then given up.
He didn’t look up as he spoke, his eyes were fixed on his phone, thumb scrolling lazily. If anything, he actually looked bored as he recited my coffee order from memory.
“Give her extra whip cream,” he added without inflection, still not looking up. Then he straightened, slid his phone into his pocket, and walked away through the swinging door to the Staff Only section like nothing had happened.
I stood there, staring after him, my brain scrambling to catch up.
“Did he just order for you?” Ainsley said next to me, her voice a mix of awe and swoon.
The barista exhaled loudly. “Yeah,” she said, already typing into the register. “That’ll be $8.75.”
I blinked. “Sorry. What?”
“Card or cash?”
I blinked again then shook my head. I wasn’t sure what exactly Cole was playing at, constantly jumping in and ordering for me, but it was starting to get on my nerves a little. If he couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me, why did he get to decide what I was going to drink?
“Actually,” I said, “I think I’d rather have a…” I named the first drink I saw, “Sweet Kiss.”
“But she’ll take the extra whip,” Ainsley added, leaning over my shoulder to be heard.
The barista looked less than impressed as she sighed, but she put it in. I tapped my card to pay then moved down the counter. I was busy stuffing my card back into my wallet when I felt someone come right up behind me, and for one dizzying second, I thought it was Cole.
“Hey, Novak,” the voice said and I just about jumped out of my skin.
“Mitch!” I snapped, putting a hand to my pounding heart. “You almost scared me to death.”
He just grinned and leaned backwards against the counter, placing himself awkwardly right in front of me.
“You look… different today,” he said, running his eyes up and down my body.
I did my very best not to gag. “I’m wearing the same uniform as always.”
Ainsley, thankfully, joined us at this exact moment.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken. “I mean, all the girls at school wear the same clothes, but there’s something about how they fit on you that…” He sighed and shook his head.
My twin looked down at her identical uniform, then back up at Mitch with a quizzical expression. He didn’t notice. “Thank you?” I said slowly. “I think?” I glanced at my sister, who just shrugged in response.
“So, have you given any more thought to my…” He wiggled his brows. “Offer for tomorrow night?”
“Actually, I—”
“Hey.”
Cole appeared from nowhere on the other side of the counter.
He’d ditched the hoodie somewhere between the staff room and now and was wearing a black Corner Cup T-shirt instead, the fabric stretched slightly across his broad shoulders and showing off his muscles.
He didn’t even look at me as his fingers drummed lazily against the laminate, like he had all the time in the world.
“Uh… Can I help you?” Mitch said, trying to keep his tone casual, but he swallowed hard as Cole’s eyes landed on him.
“Yeah,” Cole said. His voice was calm, almost bored. “You can step back.”
Mitch laughed, short and sharp. “Excuse me?”
“You’re in the pickup area,” Cole said, tapping the counter once. Then his eyes flicked to mine for a second before returning to Mitch. “And you’re crowding her.”
Mitch scoffed and straightened, puffing up in a way that would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t so transparent. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s my business if you’re making Imogen uncomfortable, which you very clearly are.”
I paused for a moment, my mind scrambling to catch up to the swift change in events—and to the fact that Cole just used my name.
And dare I say that it sounded way better coming out of his mouth than Mitch’s?
Ainsley gripped my arm and I swore I heard her squeal like this was the most entertaining movie she’d ever seen and not a very real moment in my actual life.
Mitch straightened, trying to regain his cool. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but maybe you should focus on your job instead of—”
“—instead of what?” Cole cut in, finally smiling. It wasn’t friendly. It was the kind of smile that made Mitch hesitate, just a fraction too late. The kind that said Cole was enjoying this now.
“Instead of bothering customers,” Mitch finished, though his voice had lost some of its edge.
Cole pushed off the counter and took a step closer. Not enough to touch Mitch. Just enough to invade his space.
“Funny,” Cole said. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one bothering someone.”
Mitch opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes flicked briefly over Cole’s shoulder, toward the rest of the café. Toward the other students watching with way too much interest. Toward the other barista, who had very suddenly found something fascinating to clean behind the register.
“You don’t know who I am,” Mitch said finally, chin lifting.
Cole’s smile widened by a millimeter. “No,” he agreed. Then, in the same quiet tone that somehow felt sharp enough to cut, he added, “And you’re not nearly as intimidating as you think you are, rich boy.”
Mitch’s jaw tightened. The flush creeping up his neck was faint but undeniable. He looked around the coffee shop at the onlookers pretending unsuccessfully not to be gawking at his losing battle.
“What is your problem, dude?”
“You are,” Cole said, his voice firm and unyielding.
Mitch opened his mouth again, but no words came. Finally, he laughed again, louder this time, trying too hard to appease the growing crowd. “Look, man, this is between me and her. We were talking.”
“And now you’re done,” Cole said. He turned his gaze to me. “That’s what you want, right, Imogen?”
There it was again—my name on his lips.
“You want him to stop bothering you?” Cole asked again when I didn’t reply. His gaze was on me, studying every shift in my expression.
“I’m not bothering her,” Mitch doubled down.
I must have made a face at his reply that confirms he is, in fact, bothering me, because Cole pointed to the door and simply said, “Get out.”
Mitch turned fully toward him now, irritation finally outweighing caution. “Or what?”
The café seemed to collectively lean in. Cole’s expression didn’t change. His voice stayed calm, almost casual. “Or we can step outside and see how this plays out.”
Ainsley’s hand dug into my arm and she whispered in my ear, “Did he just threaten to beat Mitch up for you?”
I didn’t respond, too focused on Cole to be able to respond. I felt like I should be doing something to stop this, but what could I do?
Mitch scoffed, but there was sweat at his temple now. “You think you’re intimidating or something?”
“No,” he said. “I think I’m just better at reading social cues than you.”
That did it.
Mitch’s jaw tightened. “You’re nothing but some burnout working a coffee counter,” he snapped. “Maybe worry about your own future instead of—”
Cole laughed. Actually laughed. It was low and brief, like Mitch had just confirmed something Cole already knew.
“Yeah,” Cole said, nodding once. “See, that’s what everyone says.”
He stepped closer—not enough to touch, not enough to make a scene. Just close enough that Mitch had to tip his head back to keep eye contact. The café had gone quiet in that way that meant everyone was pretending not to listen.
Cole’s voice dropped, calm as ever. “You know the difference between you and me?”
Mitch didn’t answer. Cole didn’t wait. “People like you think words are the worst thing that can happen. And people like me,” he continued, eyes steady, “already know better.”
He flicked his gaze toward me for the briefest second—so fast it could’ve been nothing—then back to Mitch.
“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Cole said mildly. “You’re going to walk away. Right now. And you’re going to be really grateful this is the only kind of attention you get today.”
Silence.
Then Mitch swallowed. For a second, I thought he might actually say something else. Push it. Double down. Then his gaze flicked—just once—to Cole’s arms, to the faint scars along his knuckles, to the way he stood like he’d never once been afraid of a fight.
Mitch had clearly heard of his reputation.
“Whatever,” Mitch muttered, stepping back. “This isn’t over.”
Cole shrugged. “Cool.”
Mitch hesitated, like he wanted the last word, then thought better of it. He shot me one final look and turned on his heel, disappearing into the crowd.
The noise of the café slowly resumed, like someone had turned the volume back up.
Cole stared after him with a hard expression.
It was only then that I realized he had a coffee cup in his hand, one that was being squeezed so hard that the lid had popped off and liquid was spilling over the sides, not that Cole seemed to notice.
Between his fingers, I could just barely make out the words Sweet Kiss written in marker on the side.
I cleared my throat to get his attention.
He didn’t look at me. I followed his gaze, assuming I’d find Mitch staring back, brave enough to do so now that he was out of punching range, but I didn’t see Mitch anywhere.
In fact, the whole group of boys that had been sitting in the back corner when I’d come in were mysteriously absent now.
“Hey,” I said. I snapped my fingers in front of Cole’s face. My silver bracelets jingled with the movement. “Cole? I’m waiting for my Sweet Kiss.”
I didn’t realize how weird the words sounded until I heard Ainsley’s muffled giggle next to me. Cole’s dark eyes turned on me, the danger and rage that was in them before now softening just barely as he looked at me.
“What?” he asked, his brows knitting together.
“The drink,” I stammered, suddenly feeling flustered. Really, I was no better than Mitch, ready to run off as soon as Cole turned his gaze on me. Except I wasn’t afraid of Cole, not in the way Mitch was. “The one you’ve totally massacred in your hand? It’s mine.”
Cole’s gaze dropped to the cup in his hand. He made a face as he shook his hand, sending splatters of liquid everywhere, then turned it just enough to read the side.
“You ordered a Heartbreaker.” He lifted his gaze from the ruined cup to me, and any sharpness that I expected to still see there after the near-fight was completely gone as he looked at me.
“No, you ordered it. For me.” I gestured to the mangled cup and his hand, now covered in espresso and coffee syrup and melted whipped cream. He shook his hand again. “I ordered a Sweet Kiss. And you’ve ruined it.”
I was only partially serious. I did hate the way he assumed my drink for me—even if he was right—but after just saving me from Mitch, I wasn’t going to actually stay mad at him for it.
He stared at me, then at the cup. For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me to get lost. But then he made a small sound that for anyone else might have sounded like a laugh. “Haven’t I done enough for you today?”
“What, defending me? I didn’t ask you to do that.”
He stared at me for three entire heartbeats, then took a step closer. I didn’t step back the way Mitch did. The way anyone else might have. Instead, I stayed in place and tilt my chin a little higher.
“You didn’t have to.” Cole took a slow step back, not breaking my gaze. Then he lifted the cup between us. “Sorry about that drink, Princess. Let me remake it for you.”
He turned on his heel and started walking away. I took the opportunity to draw in a breath of air and try to clear my head, but before I could redirect my thoughts, he looked at me over his shoulder. “And Princess?”
“Yeah?” I croaked out.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”