Page 24 of Cole

I scoffed. “I can hardly call the owner of the shop out to fix my car for free.”

“You know Marcus. Marcus’ friends don’t pay.”

“Oh, well. Ok, then. Thanks.”

He nodded and shrugged his jacket back on, wiping his greasy hands on a bandanna from his pocket.

“So, I guess I’ll be going,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward. This wasn’t the man I’d thought he’d be, from my research into his business. After the shocking shoot-out the other night, I’d half convinced myself that Cole Bailey had to be a hardened criminal, following in his convict father’s footsteps. But he didn’t feel like that today, coming to the aid of his younger brother’s friend, at no charge. He hadn’t felt like that the other night either, protecting me, patching me up.

I didn’t know what to feel.

“I’ll follow,” he said, getting onto his bike.

I paused with my hand on my car door. “Follow what?”

“You.”

“Why? Is the car likely to break down again already?”

He shook his head. Nope. It wasn’t that, then…

“Because of that creep?”

Cole just shrugged. “You never know. Let’s go.”

I could see that arguing with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere, and besides, I was officially late for a class. I got into my car and started up. It started smoothly, no hint of it having had a problem only half an hour before. I pulled out, passing Cole on his bike. He had his head turned, watching me. For some reason, the steadiness of his gaze made me flush. Being the center of attention for a man like that was no easy thing, especially for someone who mostly flew under the radar.

I wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous like some of my friends, or incredibly smart like others. I wasn’t particularly funny, or brave or insightful. I was just me. A people-pleasing good girl who had spent her life doing whatever her parents had decided was best for her.

I was a rule follower with a big mouth, who was all bark and no bite, and had been described in the newsroom as pushy and annoying more than once.

But when my eyes connected with Cole’s, I forgot those things about myself.

I drove past, being overly careful to follow the rules, self-conscious that he was right on my tail.

We drove through town, and toward the HHU campus. At the gates, I slowed slightly, before pulling down the road that led to my dorm. Cole pulled to a stop at the edge of the road there, watching my car until it turned a corner.

“Oh, wow, the great Ms. Lancaster is gracing us with her presence, how lucky we are,” Emmit Jones called when I walked through the doors of the Harbor Herald offices bright and early the next morning. He was editor-in-chief of Hade Harbor University’s only reputable publication and a total asshole, and I was pretty sure he had it out for me personally. He’d been friends with my douchebag cousin who’d transferred a while back. It might also have something to do with the fact that Emmit had seemed to think that because I’d started school on a scholarship and in dorms, that I’d be grateful for any attention I got from someone who was more experienced in journalism than me. When I wasn’t, and then, when he’d found out my family’s privileged circumstances, his hostility had only grown.

I forced a smile and dropped my bag on the small desk he’d assigned me to in the corner.

“Well, I don’t really need to be here every day to write a gossip column, do I?” I ground out.

Emmit raised his eyebrows at my tone. “Does that mean you’re ready to let that go and let the junior staff have a crack at it? Leaving us, are you?”

“Not even remotely, sorry to disappoint you.” My smile grew more and more strained. “I just meant that I get the best stories out and about on campus, of course.”

Emmit nodded with an irritating smirk around his lips. “Well, let me know when you get tired of your position; I have a waiting list to replace you.”

“You could always just put me on something else,” I suggested, knowing it was futile, but unable to stop myself.

“Hmm, I could, couldn’t I? I’m afraid you haven’t found a way to talk me into giving you a shot, Lancaster. I need journalists who worked hard to get here, not just asked daddy for a leg up.”

The phone on his desk rang and he answered, stopping me from retorting to his cruel and completely untrue accusation.

The motherfucker insisted on believing that I’d nepo-ed my way into HHU, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d had to go against my father, who hadn’t wanted me to study journalism at all. In fact, he’d suggested that I get involved with my mother’s charity fundraising full time, instead of going to college. It was clear what kind of woman my father wanted me to grow up to be, and how his plans were diametrically opposed to my dreams.

I sat down and put my headphones on, and opened my laptop. Whether I hated the gossip column or not, I still needed to turn it in on time, or Emmit would get rid of me as fast as he could.