Page 65 of Cole

She smiled at me in the mirror and leaned against the hand dryer.

“I hope you’re not going to spoil the mood tonight? Cole and I are finally about to have dinner together, and his former fling is running around the place looking like she might pass out. Stop being such an attention-seeking whore, and go home.”

My mouth dropped open. I was so outraged, I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m not his former fling! I mean…” I struggled to get the words out. “Nothing happened between us,” I lied. How could Kiki even know anything? She had to be bluffing.

Kiki rolled her eyes. “Sure, it didn’t. He just lied and said it did?” She laughed mockingly. “You sure do have a heightened sense of self-worth, don’t you, girl?”

What had Cole said about me? My face felt hot.

“It didn’t,” I repeated, because I was nothing if not stubborn.

Kiki tossed her shining mane of dark hair. “Whatever, I don’t care. What matters is that you’ve stopped sniffing around. I know I don’t come off this way, but I don’t like to see pretty little things get chewed up and spat out.” She slicked on some dark red lipstick. “Cole is a popular guy, but he doesn’t get attached. There’s not a woman in The Clutch who doesn’t have a sob story about how they thought he was the one during a brief hookup, and then he was gone. Walked away without a backward glance.”

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. Hearing that didn’t feel good, at all, and yet it was exactly what should have relieved my conscience. He wouldn’t care that our tiny little fling was over.

“Also, you know guys like Cole are only ever a hair away from a stay behind bars. Like his daddy. He needs to be careful, if he wants to avoid that fate. The cops would love to nail him for anything they could.”

Of course, in my research, I knew that Frank Bailey was locked up. The idea of Cole going inside made me feel vaguely sick.

And you were going to write an article that would have landed him there. And if not, your father would make sure of it.

Kiki smirked at my tight expression. “Yeah, that’s right. A hookup with a potential felon sounds a little too edgy for Miss Prim, doesn’t it?”

She shoved her lipstick in her pocket and turned my way.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I managed to say when she just stared at me.

She nodded and smiled, satisfied.

“Good. See you later. Have a great night. I know I will.”

Then she sashayed out of the bathroom.

Oh god.

She was right. Everything she’d just said about how dangerous it was for Cole to get in trouble was right. I stared at myself in the mirror. Somehow when I’d started this, it hadn’t bothered me. If someone was doing something illegal, then they should pay the price. It was just that easy. Plus, I’d been worried about Finn, desperate to help ease Rosie’s worries about her son.

But now, Cole wasn’t some stranger to me. I knew him, at least a little, and the idea of sending him to jail because of my article was unconscionable. I’d already known that I’d crossed ethical lines, but now I could see the callousness of my ambition as well. My byline in exchange for his future. Did he deserve that? I barely even knew what the MC was wrapped up in. I was so confused, and conflicted. My emotions were a mess, and I just needed a break from all of this.

I left the bathroom and headed back to Lily.

As I approached, I could see that she wasn’t alone. Cole was leaning over the back of the booth, talking to her. He was wearing a light gray henley, pushed up to the elbows, and low-slung jeans, and he looked absolutely edible.

He turned to look at me as I approached, his pale eyes steady and warm as they swept over my form. If I’d have known I was going to see him, I would’ve worn something nicer than old sweats and a massive HHU sweatshirt. I cringed at the thought immediately. I was supposed to be putting distance between us, not dressing up for him. Ugh.

“Isabelle,” he said in that deep voice that made my knees weak.

I nodded at him. Lily looked between us then picked up her book and buried her face in it, effectively leaving us alone.

“Hi,” I muttered, folding my arms over my chest.

He narrowed his eyes at my standoffish posture.

“What’s wrong, Goldilocks?”

I shook my head, my cheeks heating at the nickname.