Page 46 of Tempted Hearts
“For you?” he said, shrugging. “Maybe it is. Some people actually go after the thing they want.” And then—a flicker. The kind of truth that slips out before a person can catch it.
He looked away immediately, like he hadn’t meant to say it.
I blinked.
He wasn’t talking about me.
Or my thriller.
Not really.
But if I asked him about it, asked Cole what he really wanted, he’d clam up. I knew him enough to feel certain about that. So I pivoted.
“So what’s the next stop on this adventure?” I asked instead.
“Rosalie said Marco would take us swimming at a private cove, one hidden from tourists, then down the coast toward Manarola before dropping us in Riomaggiore for lunch on our own, and after that he’ll sail us past Corniglia and time the ride back to Monterosso for sunset.”
“Holy shit. What a dream day.” Catching myself, I added quickly, “Did you tell Parker what we were doing?”
Cole’s eyes darted away quick enough to give me the answer already.
“I did.”
He did, and whatever Parker had said back wasn’t something Cole would be sharing. Although I could guess what it was, knowing him. And especially knowing Delaney. Parker probably thought Cole and me getting together was as bad an idea as Jules.
Problem was, they were using logic.
Cole and I were like night and day.
I hadn’t even liked him a week ago.
The guy lived in New York City.
And most importantly, he was the one kind of guy a few years of therapy warned against. I doubt Cole let himself fully into his own thoughts. There was zero chance he’d let me in too.
But logic had nothing on the butterflies in my stomach since last night. Or the way it felt when I forced a crack in his facade, made him lose control. How he looked at me…
“Riomaggiore for lunch,” I mused. “Sounds perfect.”
He looked at me.
Really looked at me.
I could tell Cole wanted to say something but hesitated.
“What is it?” I asked.
“How many guys have you totally disarmed, without even trying?”
Laughing, I accepted the backhanded compliment. “Are you asking how many boyfriends I’ve had?”
“Sure,” he said, as if he’d not thought the question through. “If you want to share.”
“Proper boyfriends. Three.”
“What’s your definition of a ‘proper boyfriend’?”
“You know, with the actual label. Agreed on, and all that. One guy was only for four months, maybe five actually. But the other two were over a year. The last one, more like three years.”
