Page 45 of Tricking an Introvert

Cole

Something had changed. Cole didn't know what, but he could still pinpoint when. He remembered seeing the look in Tessa's eyes on a Monday about a week ago, as she told him she didn't need him to pet-sit Beau. Until then, she'd been happy to see him, welcoming and eager to do stuff with him—from picking up hotdogs to watching movies or simply walking Beau.

Fuck, how had he messed it all up? He didn't fucking know.

He'd spent a great four weeks with Tessa, building what felt, at the very least, like the beginning of a lasting friendship—maybe more. And he felt it slipping through his fingers. How the fuck could he hold on to it? Should he try at all?

"I know that face."

Cole lifted his head to find Michael observing him far too closely.

"You're troubled."

"Right. Yeah, not sure about what to do about that TV interview. On one hand, the guy trashed your book on his blog; on the other, he's quite big and has a huge audience. Maybe if we get him to send a list of preapproved questions, we can try it?"

"Nice try. You're off the clock, Cole, it's five. What's going on? You've been off all day. All week."

Cole sighed. Where did he start?

"I have no clue, man. I just don't know what to do about this thing with Tessa. We were literally hanging out every day, then she started to say she was busy, going to be out late, feeling unwell. I only saw her Wednesday and Friday last week. And she seemed distant both times. I think I did something to piss her off, and I have no clue what."

If she'd started to withdraw a week earlier, he would have guessed that she'd sniffed some of the crazy from his family and run from it like any sane person would, except the timing just didn't add up.

Michael headed to the corner of his living room he’d converted into a bar and poured two brandies, handing Cole one before saying, "Here's a wild idea. Ask her?"

Cole frowned. "Wouldn't I sound like an asshole if I was like, how dare you not spend every single moment of your free time with me anymore?"

His friend laughed. "You sure would. So, don't say that. Cole, I stayed the fuck out of it because you're a grown man and it's none of my business, but that weird relationship between you two was based on some fucked-up dynamics. You turned up, you hung out, you left, without defining anything. If you ask me, the girl is confused and probably not feeling comfortable with getting emotionally involved with some dude who won't talk to her, won't touch her, or define the relationship."

Shit, that made sense. "She didn't ask for any definition."

"Cole, Tessa's terminally shy. What's your excuse?"

He reflected on those words on his way home. Michael might not get out much, but he truly was a good judge of character. It made sense. Too much sense. How was he supposed to fix it now that she barely spoke to him?

Dammit. Everything was such a mess. And he missed her. Fuck, he missed her—as well as Beau.

A few weeks ago, he would have just turned up, certain of his welcome. Now, he considered sending a text or calling. Then he decided he needed to speak to her. They needed to speak to each other, face-to-face.

An idea suddenly came to mind. It was probably dumb as hell, but it was worth a try.

That night Tessa had refused to let him pet-sit Beau, he'd finally asked Lewis for his autograph.

"Sure—you want me to sign a piece of paper or send you something? I have a hold helmet or whatever."

He'd gone for option two, of course. He and Lewis had exchanged numbers. Cole had only used it once, to forward his address so that Lewis could mail him some swag. Now, he dug through his contacts until he found the guy's number.

The phone rang twice before it was answered.

"Hey, Lewis? It's Cole—Cole Westbrook, your sister's friend."

"Friend? Is that what they're calling it these days?" The man laughed.

"We were just friends, Lewis. But I like Tessa."

"No shit. Anything I can do for you, man?"

"Yeah, actually. I think I need your help. You see, about ten days ago, Tessa started to keep her distance. If she ended up figuring out she can't stand me, I'd respect that. All I want is a chance to chat with her—and I don't want to mess it up."

It was way too important to risk it.

"I figured you might have some insight, as her little brother."

Lewis was silent on the other side of the line for a while. Then, he whistled. "That's fucking smart. Getting the bro on your side? Dude, you're playing for keeps."

Maybe he was.

"All right. Here's what you gotta do…"

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