Page 40 of Say You'll Stay

The possibility that they met for a reason, that fate gave them a shove, seems even more likely than before. He might not believe that yet, but she can believe it enough for both of them.

Chapter 11

The first thing Cole sees when he wakes is Olivia’s beautiful face.

The morning sun hits her sparse freckles, highlighting them like stardust, lashes fluttering delicately on closed lids. There’s an angel sleeping across from him and the moment that thought enters his brain, he scowls at himself. Needs to quit watching her, but he’s transfixed in a whole new way and that’s when he realizes he’s ass over heels for this woman.

She showed him the smallest amount of human kindness and, like a dog fed a hearty meal after starvation, he’s latched onto her. The moment she saw the horrific remnants of his broken childhood and didn’t run, his efforts at staying emotionally distant crumbled. Offered acceptance and even a dose of coveted affection, he’s completely lost, with no hope of resistance.

Cole’s back still aches, but he slept soundly last night. That unfamiliar feeling ofbeing taken care ofwrapped around him like an embrace and he drifted off easy.

She snuggles deeper into the pillow and he tries like hell to rationalize that he can’t be falling in love with her. Allowing those feelings to grow would be crazy.

That part of him has always been broken, and even if itwasn’t, it’s simply too early.

It’s only one-sided. She doesn’t feel the same and never will.

Kindness doesn’t equal attraction and he shouldn’t assume her being decent to him means anything. Having only a few awful one-night stands in his past has left him unfamiliar with all of this, and his fucked-up brain is exaggerating the situation.

Seeking a distraction, he forces himself out of bed, careful to avoid shifting it, and moves barefoot to the kitchen. Wants to do something nice for her, especially after what happened last night, so he putters around the cabinets, rechecking what he already looted the other day. There’s a box of chai tea bags in the back of a shelf and the teakettle on the stove confirms it’s a solid idea.

There’s no real breakfast food, but plenty of snacks, so he grabs granola bars and sets them down on the table, agonizing over the placement longer than he should before heating a can of corned beef hash. The type he’d put an egg over if they had a chicken, which they don’t.

There’s a winter flower bush right outside the window begging for one of its stems to grace the table next to her plate. It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Flowers and food go together. It’s not romantic. They are only friends.

He marches out there and snags a pink one, putting it on the table.

Takes it away a second later. She’ll think it’s stupid.

Puts it back again. Women like flowers. It won’t hurt anything to leave it there.

Cole, having already prepared the plates, takes the kettle off the stove just before it whistles. When Olivia emerges with Lucy in her arms, and a cat weaving through her legs, surpriseparts her lips. He fights the urge to squirm, rethinking his effort until she gives him one of those perfect smiles, like he’s the best thing she’s seen all day, all week. Ever.

“No one’s made me breakfast before,” she says, as if he’s given her five-star service. “I mean, not that you did it just for me. Obviously. Do you want something to drink? I can get—”

“No, I got it and…I did…do this for you.”

Her face lights up as she sits, and he pours tea into waiting cups. “Thank you.”

Rather than risk shoving his foot in his mouth, he shrugs and shovels a forkful of food in there instead.

“I love chai. I can’t believe you found some. You know, that’s one of the things I miss already. Coffee. Tea. Starbucks. I used to stop there on the way to the grocery store and secretly buy a chai tea to drink while I shopped. Not too often. Only sometimes, so he wouldn’t notice.”

“You’re one of those fancy coffee drinkers, huh?”

“There’s something to be said for a frivolous drink made by someone else. You don’t seem like a Starbucks kinda guy, though, or am I wrong?”

He sighs, admitting a long-held secret he kept from Wade at all costs. “Maybe I liked those mochas, and the peppermint ones at Christmas time. Not always. Just, you know, sometimes.”

She gasps with a wide smile. “And you gave me shit for drinking fancy coffee!”

“Yeah, yeah. This conversation doesn’t leave this room. I got a reputation to protect.”

He drank his in secret, too, but for different reasons. Wade would never let him live it down and Cole didn’t have the patience to deal with his bullshit because he felt like drinkingcoffee that didn’t taste like bitter gasoline.

“I liked the peppermint ones, too.” Her nose scrunches in that cute wrinkle he likes so much.

He wants to kiss her so badly it aches, so he looks away and down at his food rather than risk exposing what must be written all over his face.

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