Cole nods and stands, but he doesn’t move right away.
He just turns toward me, eyes shining, fighting like hell to blink it back. “Please take me with you.”
His voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, and he swipes at his face fast, like if he gets the tears off quickly enough they won’t count.
A goddamn cleaver rips down the center of me, scraping my chest clean open—heart exposed, aching, and I’m on my feet before I can think.
He steps forward, still not hugging me, but I pull him into me anyway. His shoulders shake, and he sniffs. Quiet. Controlled. Trying so damn hard not to be a little kid about it.
And it guts me. Completely.
“I can’t. Not yet.” My voice breaks. “But I love you. God, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he chokes out.
My eyes dart to Cece and she looks away, down at the floor, then to the wall.
Cole pulls back. “Bye.”
I ruffle his hair, forcing a smile I don’t feel. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.”
He shuffles toward the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room with Cece.
She folds her arms, voice small and worn. “I’m not trying to make things difficult, Matthew. He’s my grandson. I love him. I’m just… trying to do right by him.”
I shake my head as I move past her. “If that were true, you’d let him come home with me.”
Her breath stutters, like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. Maybe it’s grief. Maybe guilt. Maybe even pride. I don’t know.
And honestly? I don’t really care.
I don’t wait for anything else. I pull the door open and step outside.
Chapter Ten
JORDAN
I stareat my reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom at The 77 Lounge, a rooftop bar in Midtown.Stop overthinking.I reach into the top of my dress and adjust the girls.
They look good.Ilook good.
This dress is an absolute banger, just enough skin to be sexy while still being classy, my favorite combination. I bought it for a gala this summer I never ended up attending, and I’ve beendyingto wear it.
I pull out my lip gloss and reapply for the second time, stalling. Wasting time. I glance down at my phone again.Nothing.
A heavy breath pushes out of me, full of frustration and worry. I texted Matt earlier before my date, and he still hasn’t responded. My mind is everywhere except here.
I run my fingers through my hair and take one last look at myself before heading back to the bar.
The Lounge is a vibe. Moody. Eclectic. Indie-pop plays in the background, growing louder as the evening ticks on. I spot Alexander leaning back against the bar, two drinks in hand, a half-grin pulling at his mouth.
My mamá and yiayiá were right about one thing: he’s definitely handsome. The perfect Greek man on paperandin real life. He’s rich, polite, and honestly? He’s even pretty funny.
Which is rare, because hot guys are never funny.
Except for Matt.
Matt’s hilarious without even trying. And Lord knows he’s sinfully hot.
