“Mostly?”
I put the wiggly black kitten back in the box and picked up the tortoise colored one. She immediately began to purr with a force much greater than her small size. I gestured to a small box on the table. “I love the kitties. That present is for you.”
He tore into the wrapping paper, the expression on his face somewhere between amusement and curiosity. He opened the box and found a key. His smile disappeared. “What does this go to?”
“Our—This house. I called Zach and told him I was willing to sell it as long as it was going to you.”
The jingle bell, still in the clutch I’d tossed on an end table after the Christmas party, jingled its last.
I sighed. I was officially off the Not So Nice List. More importantly, for the first time in my life I’d seen a task through all the way to its bitter end.
“But this is your home,” Cole said.
I put the kitten back in the box and wiped away tears with the heel of my hand. “I…I quit my job. I need to sell the house to have the money to go back to school. I’ll move in with my parents.”
“You quit your job?” His brow furrowed. I could see that it was concern now. It wasn’t judgment. “What happened?”
I told him about seventy-five percent of the story. “And that’s it. I’m not even sure why I’m trying again because I just keep screwing up, but I guess I have to keep trying, right? Can’t wait to have Mom and Dad be on my case again, asking if I’ve done my homework and if I really need to go out with that boy or—“
“Stay with me.”
My heart soared upward, thudding against my rib cage. Those were the words I’d wanted to hear, but was he asking me to stay as a friend or something more? “Cole, I—”
He handed me the key back and gently closed my fingers over it. “I’ll keep paying rent to your brother. I can take care of the utilities until you find another job.”
And my heart nosedived. He was making this offer as a friend, but there was nothing like an offer of friendship to make a girl realize she wanted something more. It would be a special kind of torture to live with Cole, knowing he’d placed me so firmly in the friend zone.
Tears spilled hot and heavy down my cheeks. “I can’t let you do that. How am I ever supposed to know if I can do something on my own if I don’t do this? I can’t be a charity case forever, Cole.”
He sat down beside me and did his best to thumb away my tears before clasping my hands in his. “You are not a charity case. You just need a break. That’s all. Your grandmother left this house to both you and Zach in case anyone ever needed help. Now you do.”
I crumpled at his kindness.
Too often I’d heard, ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother? Why are you getting an art degree? Why’d you quit school when you got injured? Why do you date losers?’
I took a deep, shuddering breath, “But what if I fail again? I’m so tired of failing and here I am quitting another job without having—”
“Stop right there. You should’ve never had to put up with what you did at that liquor company. That was wrong, and I wish you’d told me about it sooner, not that I know what I could’ve done about it. I thought you were being a little too adventurous that day in the mall. I didn’t know that he was behind the whole thing. Even so, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
I sucked in a breath. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You are smart and brave and very good with people. Look at the way you deciphered the contract. Heck, look at the way you interacted with Ezekiel Angelo. Or…or…look at all of your art downstairs. You have talent. There’s a perfect job for you out there. You just haven’t found it yet.”
A perfect job. Yeah.
Now I could breathe again, at least. Reluctantly, I took my hands from his and moved over to the sink to put some distance between us. I got a glass of water and drank it best I could over the lump in my throat.
The kittens filled the silence between us with mews and soft scratches.
“Guess I’d better set up a litter box for them?” Cole asked sheepishly.
I nodded, and he left the house only to return with litter, a box, cat food, and a little bag that suspiciously jingled as if it had toys. His efficiency made me feel like a slacker.
Stop it, Aubrey! It’s part of your present.
“Want some pizza?” I asked lamely once he had the kittens settled in the bathroom.
