11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Cole

I don't know what happened. I started the day angry with Carissa and distrusting everything about her, and by the time we finish the simple meal we made—grilled chicken, fettuccine, and steamed asparagus—she feels almost like a friend. A friend whose smiles hit me square in the chest with terrifying precision every time she unleashes them, which is often.

After the way I treated her, I don't deserve those smiles, but I have a feeling I'm going to treasure them because they won't last. I can't let them last.

Still, I can already tell they're an addiction I may not be able to shake.

We talked mostly about movies over the last hour and a half, particularly the ones Bonnie and Derek have been in, and that kept our conversation light and impersonal because the topic doesn't involve either of us. But she promised she would tell me why she came to Los Angeles, and while I don't want to push her into sharing, I'm desperate to know what happened to her. If it takes this long for her to work up the courage to talk about it, it must be big .

With cleanup done, we're standing in my kitchen, an awkward silence filling the air between us. Against the curiosity pulsing through me, I nod toward the car keys that she left on the table next to her purse. "I meant it when I said you can borrow the car."

Her lips twist up. "I know. And I'm grateful."

I hope that means she'll take me up on my offer. Not only will I feel better about her ability to get around safely, but it'll mean I don't have to get stared at by rideshare drivers who recognize me in their backseats. Some have even tried to pull me into conversation before, something that will be more of a problem now that Hollywood Hot Scoop has turned their attention to me again, and it gets annoyingly tedious to ignore people while trapped in a car with them. I'd much rather spend the drive with Carissa.

Which is a strange feeling. It's been a long time since I wanted to be around someone.

I clear my throat, desperately searching for a way to nudge our conversation back to where it was before I started cooking. "Would…" How am I so bad at this? There's an easy answer to that. I haven't been on a first date in literally years. But this isn't a date, so it shouldn't matter. I take a deep breath. "Would you like to sit on the back porch for a bit? My yard isn't all that big, but it's nice in the evenings."

It's nice in the evenings? I sound like an eighty-year-old woman.

Thankfully, Carissa smiles and nods. "I'd like that. It's too early for me to go to bed, and I don't especially want to cry tonight."

Does that mean she won't tell me what happened?

She must see my question on my face because she shrugs with a small laugh. "At least not by myself. I've never been away from home before, so this is…"

"Hard," I finish for her, and she nods. "I know the feeling. When I got drafted by the Badgers, it was the first time I wasn't within easy driving distance of my dad and Gramps. I hated it. "

A sound comes out of Carissa's mouth that reminds me of the way women coo at puppies and kittens. I don't love it.

"I was going for solidarity," I grumble, "not pity."

That gets her laughing, which is just as endearing as her smiles and makes me wonder if inviting her to stay longer was a bad idea. I'm starting to like her company more than I should, and that can't end well. "Sorry," she says despite sounding anything but. "I just didn't think a big guy like you would get homesick."

"I happen to really like my dad and Gramps." Gesturing with my head for her to follow, I lead the way down the hallway and out the back door.

I meant it when I said my yard was small, and aside from a few trees and flower patches, it's nothing but the small porch that holds a couple of chairs and a glider bench. We sit on the bench, which squeaks when it rocks under our weight. I should probably fix that, but it's not like I spend much time back here. If I'm not at my dad's, I'm with Derek or Liam.

I forgot how peaceful it can be back here.

"It's darling out here," Carissa says once she's settled, a solid few inches of space between us. It's the same word she used when she first walked inside my house, and I can't decide if it's good or bad. She obviously likes my house, but that doesn't mean she likes me or thinks I fit my space. Sage always thought my house was too quaint for someone of my status, and it was an arguing point on the rare occasions she came down to California. She never understood how much I desperately needed something familiar when everything else in my life was changing. I didn't plan to settle here permanently, but she never believed me when I told her that.

Huh . It's funny how easy it is to see the red flags in a person when you're looking backward.

"Okay," Carissa says before I can respond to her opinion about my yard. "I said I would tell you about my rule and why I'm here." She twists and curls one leg up so she's facing me. "And I know this is going to sound hypocritical of me, but first I need you to promise that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

Intrigued, I nod. But I also say, "Technically there's no hypocrisy. Just you sharing things you're not supposed to share."

As pink blossoms across her cheeks, she rolls her eyes at me. "The Darcy/Tamlin thing wasn't mine to share, but this thing is. I don't want you to tell anyone because it's mortifying."

The urge to reach out and take hold of her hand comes on so suddenly that my fingers lift off my lap before I stop myself. I hate the idea of someone as sweet and bubbly as Carissa being so embarrassed, but we're definitely not at a point in our friendship where I can try to offer comfort. I don't even know if we're friends.

I vaguely wonder if becoming friends with Carissa fulfills Freya's expectation because Carissa is technically part of the team, but I push that thought aside and smile. "I'm better at keeping secrets than you'd think. I won't tell anyone." I tilt my head, too curious not to ask. "Do you believe me?"

She tilts her own head to match, just like she did earlier, and I can't help but smile at the way she's so easy to like. I was an idiot before now. "Is it weird if I say yes?"

"Probably."

"Well, I do believe you."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Are we friends, Cole?"

The question settles warm in my chest, no matter how out of the blue it feels. The fact that she's wondering the same thing I was makes this all easier to stomach. I don't trust easily anymore, but I want to trust her. "Do you want to be my friend?" I ask.

She nods. "Even though you were mean to me. "

"I was awful." Admitting as much hurts, but I think I've been doing okay tonight. I've been trying, anyway. "I'm sorry."

Carissa smiles. "So we're friends?"

"Yes."

"In that case." She heaves a deep sigh and then says everything all at once, in a single breath. "I fell in love with one of my patients and only found out he was married when our relationship became a scandal on local television because he was running for governor and someone took a picture of us on a date."

Well there's a sucker punch to the gut. I can't find words to say so I sit here and gape at her like a fish, which is not the kind of reaction I'm sure she was hoping for. Only one rough word makes it out of my throat. "Oh."

She ducks her head, letting her blonde curls fall around her face. "Yeah. It was kind of awful. He wanted our relationship to be a secret, and I thought it was because he was my patient, you know? That was bad enough. But then I found out about his wife and kids, and…" She presses her face into her hands. "I was such an idiot."

This time, I can't stop myself from reaching for her. I take a wrist in each hand, pulling her arms toward me until her face is free and she looks up with tear-filled eyes. "The only idiot in that situation was him." My voice comes out more growly than I would like, but I can't help it. Whoever this guy is, he needs a firm punch to the face. I hope his wife plans to leave him and find someone better.

Sniffling, Carissa looks down at my hands circling her tiny wrists. "I shouldn't have fallen for him in the first—"

"Hey. Don't do that to yourself. You didn't do anything wrong." But I frown as I think about everything else she's told me. "Is that why you're here? Why you left your physical therapist job?"

She nods. "They fired me because I was a liability and an embarrassment. And no one else in the state would hire me because Peter's campaign team pushed all the blame on me. I'm lucky it wasn't a big enough story to spread out of Pennsylvania."

A curse slips out of me when I remember the Hot Scoop article that dropped this morning. If anyone figures out who Carissa is, they're going to dig. And whoever runs that stupid website is good at doing their homework. If there was any news coverage about the scandal, Hot Scoop will find it.

I need to make sure they don't have a reason to dig.

"Forget what I said." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I drop her hands, rising to my feet and putting as much distance between us as I can without stepping off the deck into the bushes. "I don't need a ride."

"But—"

"Just use the car, and I'll get myself to practice."

"Cole, what—"

"I'm not going to argue with you!" I snap, then flinch when I catch sight of her tears. Oops .

She sniffles and swipes a finger across her cheek. "Okay."

I swear again, hating how easily I slipped back into the guy who makes her cry. I need to explain, but I don't know if I can do it well enough for her to understand. "I don't want my mess to become your mess and make everything worse for you," I say as gently as I can. "If anyone sees you with me like they did yesterday, your past is going to catch up to you really fast." And the people who dig it up will be ruthless . Grimacing, I shake my head at her. "You don't want to be associated with me, Carissa. You don't want to be my friend."

"What if I do?"

"You don't."

"Why not? "

"Because I'm cursed." I swear once more and clench my jaw. But I suppose, after that bombshell she dropped on me, it's only fair that I do the same. She was honest with me, so I'll be honest with her.

Even if I hate it.

I take a deep breath, holding it in my lungs and refusing to meet her teary gaze. "I'm cursed, Carissa. Anyone who gets close to the men in my family, they… It doesn't end well." That's not quite true, so I shake my head and stand up, hoping the distance makes it easier to explain. "I don't mean anyone. I mean…I mean anyone who gets close to me. Anyone I let into my heart. The people I love. The…the women I love."

Okay, wow, that sounds like I'm telling Carissa I love her so she should stay away from me, and that's the furthest thing from the truth. Yes, I feel a budding connection to her, but I don't know her. A few hours in each other's company, during most of which I was antagonistic, hardly counts as time to get to know someone.

She's still staring at me in silence, so I shake my head again. "I'm not explaining this well."

"No," she agrees.

"My great-great-grandma was trampled by a horse when my great-grandpa was ten." I wince at the horrified look in Carissa's eyes but keep talking. "Great-grandma died of smallpox only a few years into being married. My grandma got cancer only a year after my dad was born, and my mom…" I stumble over my words. "She died giving birth to me. My…" I clench my hands into fists, hating how hard it is to talk about this after so many years. "My high school girlfriend? Car accident when I was driving us back from Senior Prom. She was in a coma for two months before she finally woke up."

Carissa gasps, wiping tears from her cheek with her palm. "That's why you don't drive."

I nod, trying to swallow the lump that has lodged itself in my throat. "The crash wasn't my fault, but I still feel responsible. If she hadn't been with me … And then—" I stop talking before I mention Sage, who got stuck in an elevator not long after we started dating. One of the lines snapped and trapped her in between floors for a few hours. She laughed it off as coincidence and refused to break up with me, even though it had only been a few months since she first asked me out and I was adamant that she would be better off without me.

Her determination was endearing and the main reason I let myself think maybe she'd be okay if we stayed together.

I shrug. "Cursed."

Slowly getting to her feet, Carissa approaches me like she would a wounded animal. With caution. "That's not a real thing," she says, which is exactly what I expected her to say. "Besides, we can still be friends."

I shake my head. "We're friends now . But what if…" The fact that I'm even considering the possibility of something more than friendship should be sending me into a mental breakdown when only a few hours ago I told Moxie that my heart was irreparably broken. What has this woman done to me? She's like some goddess putting me under her spell and making me believe things might get better.

I stuff a hand into my hair. I need to change the subject before she reads too much into things. "I can't believe I just told you all of that."

Her laugh, though small, warms the space between us. "This is probably going to make me sound vain or conceited, but people tend to tell me things they wouldn't normally tell a stranger. Like, all the time. I must have one of those faces."

"It's more than that." Though, I have no idea what I mean. There's something about her that makes me want to get close to her, and I can't blame the team for tripping over each other to get to her. She's magnetic. A couple of hours of having her in my house, and I don't want her to leave. Folding my arms, I think back to today and how Moxie said the team paid more attention to Carissa than they did to their job. Something tells me it's only going to get worse the more they get to know her.

Taking a small step back to give me some air to breathe that doesn't include her sweet scent—a lightly floral smell that reminds me of my dad's backyard in the early spring—I try to keep my voice calm and steady as I say, "So you want to avoid dating any of the people you work with, right?"

Her eyebrows dip down; I don't blame her for being confused about my choice of topic. "Yeah."

I twist my mouth to one side. "They're not going to make it easy on you."

"They never do."

Yeah, I can imagine most men fall in love with her as soon as they speak to her. I wasn't willing to admit it, but even I was drawn to her that first day we met. If I had been in a better mood, I might have acknowledged it then.

I'm man enough to admit it now. "I don't blame them. You're…" I grimace and take another step back.

She tilts her head. "I'm what?"

"Special. And I'm not willing to risk your safety, no matter how much I want to know you better."

"Cole, you're not cursed."

"It doesn't matter." Mostly because she's wrong. "I'd rather be up front with you now than risk something later." That probably makes me sound like a jerk again, but it's the truth. My high school girlfriend got lucky, and it's a miracle nothing worse ever happened to Sage during the time we were together. "I won't be asking you out, Carissa."

Thankfully, she smiles as her eyes trace my face. "I like your honesty, Cole. And even if you did ask me out, I would say no."

"Good. "

"Good." With her smile still intact, she looks around my yard for a moment, then lets her breath out in a heavy exhale. "I should go."

I don't want her to go, but it's for the best. We can be friends, but that's all we'll be, so I don't want to let myself get too attached. "You'll take the car?" I ask.

The question prompts a giggle. " Yes , Cole. I'll take the car. You and Moxie can stop worrying about me."

"Not likely," I grumble and follow her back into the house and out to my Audi.

I stand in the open garage and watch her drive away until I can't see the taillights anymore. My idea to let her borrow the car that has sat idle for too long was desperate at best, a scramble to keep her safe, but I can't be mad that it gave me this chance to get to know her better. My first impression of Carissa was so wrong, and I've never been happier to be corrected.

But now that the red of the brake lights has faded, leaving the neighborhood in the soft darkness of twilight, I press a hand to my chest and note the way I feel less hollow than I did this morning.

I feel more alive.

And that's going to be a problem.