Page 32 of The Moment I Knew

“Instead of bothering customers,” Mitch finished, though his voice had lost some of its edge.

Cole pushed off the counter and took a step closer. Not enough to touch Mitch. Just enough to invade his space.

“Funny,” Cole said. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one bothering someone.”

Mitch opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes flicked briefly over Cole’s shoulder, toward the rest of the café. Toward the other students watching with way too much interest. Toward the other barista, who had very suddenly found something fascinating to clean behind the register.

“You don’t know who I am,” Mitch said finally, chin lifting.

Cole’s smile widened by a millimeter. “No,” he agreed. Then, in the same quiet tone that somehow felt sharp enough to cut, he added, “And you’re not nearly as intimidating as you think you are, rich boy.”

Mitch’s jaw tightened. The flush creeping up his neck was faint but undeniable. He looked around the coffee shop at the onlookers pretending unsuccessfully not to be gawking at his losing battle.

“What is your problem, dude?”

“You are,” Cole said, his voice firm and unyielding.

Mitch opened his mouth again, but no words came. Finally, he laughed again, louder this time, trying too hard to appease the growing crowd. “Look, man, this is between me and her. We were talking.”

“And now you’re done,” Cole said. He turned his gaze to me. “That’s what you want, right, Imogen?”

There it was again—my name on his lips.

“You want him to stop bothering you?” Cole asked again when I didn’t reply. His gaze was on me, studying every shift in my expression.

“I’m not bothering her,” Mitch doubled down.

I must have made a face at his reply that confirms he is, in fact, bothering me, because Cole pointed to the door and simply said, “Get out.”

Mitch turned fully toward him now, irritation finally outweighing caution. “Or what?”

The café seemed to collectively lean in. Cole’s expression didn’t change. His voice stayed calm, almost casual. “Or we can step outside and see how this plays out.”

Ainsley’s hand dug into my arm and she whispered in my ear, “Did he just threaten to beat Mitch up for you?”

I didn’t respond, too focused on Cole to be able to respond. I felt like I should be doing something to stop this, but what could I do?

Mitch scoffed, but there was sweat at his temple now. “You think you’re intimidating or something?”

“No,” he said. “I think I’m just better at reading social cues than you.”

That did it.

Mitch’s jaw tightened. “You’re nothing but some burnout working a coffee counter,” he snapped. “Maybe worry about your own future instead of⁠—”

Cole laughed. Actually laughed. It was low and brief, like Mitch had just confirmed something Cole already knew.

“Yeah,” Cole said, nodding once. “See, that’s what everyone says.”

He stepped closer—not enough to touch, not enough to make a scene. Just close enough that Mitch had to tip his head back to keep eye contact. The café had gone quiet in that way that meant everyone was pretending not to listen.

Cole’s voice dropped, calm as ever. “You know the difference between you and me?”

Mitch didn’t answer. Cole didn’t wait. “People like you think words are the worst thing that can happen. And people like me,” he continued, eyes steady, “already know better.”

He flicked his gaze toward me for the briefest second—so fast it could’ve been nothing—then back to Mitch.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Cole said mildly. “You’re going to walk away. Right now. And you’re going to be really grateful this is the only kind of attention you get today.”