Between Us (The Renegade Saints #3) (8 page)

I wave goodbye to Ian as he walks off toward his car and then I turn to Cole and give him a little wave, too.

Instead of walking away, he steps in closer. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he announces.

“It’s okay,” I say as I gesture toward my car. “I’m just right there.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Humor me.”

He stays at my side once we get to my car, holding the door open as I get in and put on my seatbelt. Turning back to him, I find him watching me intently.

“Drive safely,” he says.

“Will do,” I smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

I’m reluctant to leave but have no reason to stay.

“See you then,” I say softly.

He closes the door and backs up a few steps but doesn’t walk away. I fumble with my gearshift before putting my car into gear and pulling out of the space. He watches as I do, then raises his hand in a goodbye gesture as I go to drive away.

That was, without doubt, the craziest first day of work I’ve ever had. I thought the highlight of my day would be work-related, but it wasn’t.

Instead, it was Cole Hayes.

I
feel like a life-sized dress-up doll as I model my outfit. This is due to me forcing my best friend and roommate, Lana, to help me choose
the
perfect ensemble for tonight.

Her perfectly shaped brows knit together as she looks me over from head to toe.

“For sure, this is it,” she tells me. “Give me a twirl, girl.”

I laugh and then do three pirouettes, leftover moves from the dozen years I spent in ballet class.

“Brava,” Lana laughs as she claps. “The deal is sealed. That’s the outfit, for sure.”

“It’s not too slutty?”

Lana rolls her expressive brown eyes. “You’re wearing leggings, ankle boots and an off the shoulder top. I can’t see your tits and your ass is covered. It’s at least two steps above hooker on the corner,” she assures me.

Since I’ve gone through no fewer than a dozen outfit changes, I’m relieved we finally agree on the same one.

“Good, good,” I laugh. “I don’t want to send the wrong message or anything.”

“Hot damn, darlin’,” she drawls with a fake southern twang. “This outfit definitely says you want Cole to pluck your strings before making you the meat in a sandwich. That’s the message you want to send, right?”

I make an inelegant noise. “You jerk,” I grumble jokingly.

“I’m kidding, of course. You look fabulous and in no way resemble a lady of the evening,” she assures me.

My nerves about this night are making me nuts. Turning around, I look back over my shoulder at my outfit.

“Are we one hundred percent positive this outfit doesn’t make my ass look fat?”

“You’re a crazy person,” she huffs. “We just agreed this was it and now you’re second-guessing again. You look hot. Deal with it. We both know that ass is like a beacon to men who like women who aren’t sticks.”

“Jerkface,” I screech, “did you just call me fat?”

“Yep. You heard it here first” she says dramatically. “No, bitch! I didn’t call you fat. You know you’re sexy. If you’d stop this whole being a heterosexual thing, I’d be all over your ass.”

I can’t contain the giggle snort that comes out. “Could you imagine? We’d be the worst couple in the history of couples.”

“It’s true,” she agrees. “You’d try to get me to watch those godawful fifties shows you’re addicted to and I’d be leaving clothes and shit all over your room. Plus, your crazy ass would want to cuddle.” Lifting her hand, she pretends to stick her finger down her throat and then acts out a gagging motion. “That alone would give me hives. We’d probably kill each other within thirty days.”

Looking at her propped next to the mountain of clothes on my bed, I nod. The mess drives me nuts, as does tardiness. Lana is perpetually late and is also a total slob. We’re yin to each other’s yang.

“Probably more like three days,” I say dryly. “Your need to leave a breadcrumb trail of clothing behind you is a deal breaker for sure.”

Flipping her blonde hair dramatically, she sighs. “Makes my room feel homier,” she retorts.

After rolling my eyes at her, I start transferring discarded wardrobe choices back into my closet. Once everything is back where it belongs, I plop down on my now clean bed, next to Lana, and drop a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for putting up with me. I know you hate all this fashion craziness.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she chuckles. “I like to humor you every once in a while cause I know life’s tough when your best friend is a fashion hating lesbian.”

I jokingly elbow her side. “You don’t hate fashion. You’re just faithfully devoted to the color black and your shit kicking boots.”

“Could be worse,” she agrees. “I could still be stuck in my flannel phase.”

I shudder dramatically. “The lumberjack lesbian thing was a fashion low point.”

“Almost as bad as your white-pink lipstick and too tight jean phase,” she quips.

The shudder I let out at her words is real. I’m just thankful she didn’t mention—

“Plus,” she continues. “You were Oompa Loompa orange. It was a mess, girl.”

I groan and smack my forehead.

“What’re the rules about bringing up my former orange status?”

Lana rolls her eyes. “Never, ever bring it up.”

“You just broke the rules,” I point out.

“Yeah, but you’re not thinking about your double team… erm, I mean date, now are you?”

It’s not the funniest thing she’s ever said but I’m so keyed up, it strikes me as hilarious. Clutching my stomach, I howl with laughter.

“It’s…not…a date,” I argue through my laughter.

She gives me a look like I’ve just attempted to sell her something stupid. “We’ll see,” she retorts dryly.

Worried I may have smudged my makeup while laughing, I get up and hurry over to my mirror. Relieved to find no damage done, I grab my lip gloss for one more application. The sound of the doorbell stops me dead in my tracks. Swallowing nervously, I spin and face Lana.

“He’s here,” I whisper.

“Oh my God,” she whispers back dramatically as she stands up. “Is
that
what the ding dong sound meant? Here this whole time I thought it meant it was time to eat a donut. No wonder my ass is getting so fat. Fuck my life.”

I shake my head and call her a nut job as she wanders off to let Cole in. Not wanting to leave him waiting, I quickly apply the lip gloss before hauling it out to the living room.

I step out of the hallway as Lana opens the door. When she lets Cole into the apartment, I drink in the way his eyes flash when he looks me over. I know my face is flushed when he looks up and meets my gaze, but I can’t find it in me to care.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he responds huskily.

We stare at each other silently until Lana clears her throat and I remember that Cole and I aren’t alone in the world.

“Oh, wow,” I squeak nervously. “Sorry! This is my roommate, Lana. Lana, this is Cole. My…um…boss?”

He gives me a funny look before he turns his attention to Lana.

“I’m not her boss,” he says as he holds out his hand to shake hers. “But it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rock ‘n’ Roll,” she answers as she shakes his hand. “Where are you taking her and what time will you have her home? Tell me everything, because I need final approval. If I don’t like it, she’s not leaving with you.”

I’m used to Lana’s sense of humor, so I’m in no way surprised. Cole’s eyes widen a fraction as he stares at her.

“Uh,” he says uncertainly. “Dinner—”

“Where?”

“A new restaurant not too far from the stadium.”

“Huh,” she says slowly. “Does this restaurant serve sandwiches?”

Poor Cole is completely out of his element. Lana is acting like a nut, and I can tell he’s not sure whether she’s insane or just an asshole.

“It’s a sushi restaurant.”

“Don’t you prefer sandwiches?” she asks.

He looks over at me like he wants me to save him.

“I like all kinds of food,” he answers.

“What’s your favorite kind of meat to put between two buns?” she questions. “Something hot and juicy, or—”

I barely refrain from killing her on the spot.

“She’s just messing with you,” I say as I jump forward and grab Cole’s arm.

His relief is palpable.

“Phew,” he laughs. “I was really hoping.”

I’m yanking him toward the door in hopes that we can get out before Lana says anything else inappropriate. I know better than to put it past her.

“It was nice to meet you,” Cole says as I fling the door open and push him out into the hallway.

“He’s lying,” I call over my shoulder. “You’re an insane person and you scared him,” I laugh.

Cole snickers, his face lighting up as he smiles at me.

“You might want to have her back by midnight,” Lana calls out after us. “Otherwise, she turns into a pumpkin! Trust me, orange is really not a good look for her.”

My revenge is already being plotted as I hurry us toward the elevator.

“I’m so sorry about her—”

He waves his free hand dismissively. “Nah, she seems fun,” he assures me.

I chuckle as I let go of his arm and press the call button for the elevator.

“She’s the wackiest person I know,” I explain, “but also the most loyal.”

Cole smiles at me as he nods his head. “Wacky isn’t bad. My whole family falls under that umbrella and I love them.”

“Lana keeps me on my toes,” I admit.

“Listen,” he says, “I just got a text from Ian. He’s doing an interview for
USA Today
about his Robert Monroe books and it’s running long. He can’t make dinner, so we’ll pick him up after.”

Oh wow. This feels… kind of like a date. Maybe. Or, maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“We could’ve skipped dinner entirely,” I say nervously. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to—”

“I wanted to,” he says firmly. “We’re going to have a great time.”

When the elevator dings its arrival and the doors slide open, Cole places his hand lightly against my back to guide me in. I’m thoroughly enjoying how polite he is. I hadn’t expected it, but it’s more than welcome. As we enter, I’m hit in the face with a wave of heavy perfume. I spring forward to keep the door from shutting but just miss it. I grimace and make sure to keep my mouth closed as I try not to gasp for air. I’ve learned the hard way that breathing through my mouth is worse where this perfume is concerned.

“Holy shit,” Cole coughs. “That
smell
! I just rode the elevator and it was fine. What the fuck?”

It’s cute the way his eyes are watering as he fans the air in front of his face, and I can’t contain my giggle.

“My neighbor Brenda,” I explain. “Lana and I are ninety percent sure she showers in this stuff.”

He coughs again and shakes his head. “It’s a biohazard,” he croaks.

“Brenda is our buildings crazy cat lady. Only instead of cats, she has an apartment full of Backstreet Boys memorabilia.”

His eyes widen. “How old is she?”

“Thirty-two,” I laugh. “But she’s never ever giving up on her dream to marry Kevin Richardson.”

“No one who can smell is ever marrying her,” he rasps.

“You’d be surprised,” I answer. “She’s really pretty. She gets mad dates, and a lot of return action on those dates, too. I don’t even know how considering her apartment walls are quite literally covered floor to ceiling in posters.”

When the elevator stops in the lobby, he springs out of it, anxious to get away from the smell. I stay back, opening the emergency panel and pulling out a bottle of Febreze.

“We keep this here to combat the stench,” I tell him as I shake the bottle. “I could’ve saved us that horrible ride if I hadn’t let the elevator doors shut behind us. The key is to spray and have them open for about thirty seconds.”

Throwing back his head, Cole booms out a laugh. “You keep a bottle of Febreze handy?”

“We sure do,” I laugh. “The whole building is in on it, too. Whenever the bottle gets low, one of us replaces it. It’s the only way to survive.”

After giving a nice liberal spray, I put the bottle back where it belongs before stepping off the elevator and allowing the doors to close behind me. Reaching out to me, Cole takes my elbow and guides me out of the building.