Page 40 of Blush Crush

I blink, not sure what to make of that statement. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t it. “That’s a strange thing to notice.”

He shrugs. “I am capable of noticing things.”

I tilt my head. “But you’re not capable of getting your own croissants?”

Cole winces slightly before catching it and turning it into a tight smile. “Blake was already planning to go; I just tacked on my order.”

I don’t know what to do with that, so I don’t do anything with it at all. He didn’t say he wasn’t avoiding me. Just that Blake was already going.

I look back at the green and take a slow, deep breath, pretending my face isn’t warm.

But the ice has cracked, just slightly, and we both feel it. He angles toward me a little more, hands in his pockets, and for a moment it almost feels like it did on the patio. Like summer. Like none of the last two months happened at all.

Then Ethan calls something out across and Cole turns to respond, and the moment dissolves just as quickly as it came.

I watch him walk away and something uncomfortable settles in my chest.

That’s it. That’s the full extent of whatever this is—a minute of stilted conversation before he drifts back to his world and I stay in mine. And I don’t know why I expected anything different. I don’t know what I thought this was.

I was reading into it. I made it into something it wasn’t.

The realization doesn’t feel good, exactly, but there’s a certain relief in naming it. Like finally putting down something heavy you didn’t realize you were carrying.

We were never really friends.

We were never really anything.

CHAPTER 11

Cole

DRIP, DRIP, DRIP

December

No one ever calls in the middle of the night with good news.

When my eyes adjust enough to read the name lighting up my phone screen, my stomach drops into a pit straight through the mattress. I sit up fast, my heart trying to jump its way out of my chest.

Ariana has never once used the number I gave her, despite the fact that every tenant in the building has it. Given how long it’s been since we last spoke, this can only be work-related.

“Hello?” My voice comes out rough with sleep.

“Hi. Can you hear me?” She sounds far away, like she’s on speaker, shouting so I can hear her.

“What’s wrong?” I’m already out of bed. “What’s going on?”

“Pipe burst. Water everywhere.”

And that’s when I realize what I thought was phone static is actually the sound of rushing water.

“Get out of the building now,” I say, already moving. “I’m on my way.”

The call cuts off before she answers.

Fuck.

Adrenaline courses through me as I drag on the first clothes I can find, barely registering what I’m pulling over my head. It’s three in the fucking morning and Ariana is alone in my building while it sounds like the place is flooding.