004

Chapter 4

Cole

Sunday morning meant hauling Sage’s luggage down three flights of stairs because she refused to trust the elevator with anything she considered “important.” Apparently that meant all four of her suitcases.

I finished loading the last one into the trunk and slammed it shut, rolling my eyes as she and Aria hugged goodbye on the sidewalk like Sage was shipping off to war instead of catching an evening flight to Paris.

“I’ll be back next month for Cole’s game, so we’ll definitely see each other soon, I promise,” Sage said, still wrapped around Aria.

Aria mumbled something I didn’t catch, muffled against Sage’s shoulder.

Sage finally pulled back, wiping at her eyes before turning to point a finger at me. “Treat her right. No fighting. I mean it, Cole.”

“No promises,” I said.

She rolled her eyes and climbed into the car.

I let out a long breath of relief once she was actually buckled in and the sidewalk goodbye was finally over. Aria stood outside waving as I pulled away from the curb, and Sage twisted around in her seat to wave back through the rear window like we were leaving forever instead of driving twenty minutes to the airport.

Once we were a few blocks out, Sage finally faced forward and settled into her seat.

“So,” she said, way too casually. “What about that guy on your team?”

“Who?”

“That guy. Max, or something like that.”

I frowned at the road ahead. “There’s no Max on my team.”

“You know who I mean. The captain?”

“Jax?”

“Yeah, him.” She perked up, clearly pleased I’d finally caught on. “I heard he’s single. Can you set him up with Aria?”

“Do I look like a matchmaker to you?”

“Come on, Cole. I was the one who set you up on that blind date two years ago.”

“And how did that end?”

She went quiet for a second, turning to look out the window instead of at me. “It’s just that Aria still hasn’t gotten over that guy. God, it’s honestly so pathetic at this point. I figured maybe dating someone new would help. Jax is handsome, cool, and smart. Honestly, if I wasn’t already taken, I’d have gone for him myself.”

I scoffed, making the turn toward the airport exit.

“I don’t think she needs anyone right now,” I said. “What she needs is rest. And to stay away from guys for a while.”

“We’re here,” I said a few minutes later, pulling up to the terminal. I got out, grabbed her bags from the trunk, and walked her inside toward the check-in area.

She turned to face me once we reached the point where I couldn’t follow her any further.

“Come here.” She opened her arms. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously going to let me leave without a hug.”

I sighed and stepped into it, giving her a quick hug before pulling back.

“Please take care of my best friend,” she said, her voice softening. “And my wish, when I get back, is that you two will have actually settled your differences. Maybe even be friends.”

“Go tell your wish to some wishing well or something,” I said.

She laughed, shook her head, and gave me one last wave before heading toward security.

The drive back from the airport felt longer than it should have, mostly because I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I was about to walk into my own apartment and officially start living with her for who knew how long.

The little witch.

That was what I’d taken to calling her in my head—the sharp-mouthed, infuriating woman who was, as of today, my new roommate whether I liked it or not. I didn’t like it. I was fairly certain she didn’t either.

I got home a few minutes later, parked, and walked into the building. I knocked twice before opening the front door instead of just walking in. It was still technically my apartment, but with her living here now, who knew what she could be doing on the other side of that door? Better safe than walking in on something I couldn’t unsee.

No answer anyway. I punched in the code and let myself in.

Aria was on the couch, completely locked into her phone, so fixated she hadn’t even registered the door opening.

“You didn’t hear me knocking?” I asked, dropping my keys onto the counter.

Nothing. She didn’t even glance up.

I took a step closer, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had her so glued to the screen, but she noticed me a second later and yanked the phone behind her back so fast she nearly dropped it.

“What were you even watching that you couldn’t hear me knock?”

She let out a sharp breath instead of answering.

“Wait.” My eyebrows shot up. “Were you watching p**n?”

“What?!” She half-yelled, her face flushing red. “I was not.”

“You don’t have to get so defensive about it,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, enjoying this more than I probably should have. “You’re an adult. It’s allowed.”

She shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

That was the exact moment she gasped. “No—the food!” She jumped off the couch and took off toward the kitchen, leaving her phone forgotten on the cushion.

My eyes drifted to the screen before I could stop myself.

Wedding photos. It was her ex standing at the altar in a tux, smiling at a bride who clearly wasn’t Aria.

I scoffed. So Sage was right. She still wasn’t over him. Pathetic, honestly.

I didn’t even make it two steps toward my room before the smell hit me. Smoke, thick and acrid, rolling down the hallway.

I rushed back toward the kitchen instead. “What’s happening in here?” I started coughing before I even reached the doorway, the smoke stinging my eyes.

“I forgot I had stuff on the stove!” Aria said, waving a dish towel uselessly at the haze.

“How do you forget something’s on the stove?” The words came out colder than I meant them to, sharper too. “Were you seriously that out of it staring at your ex’s wedding photos all day? What’s wrong with you, Aria?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Wait.” Her voice went dangerously quiet, tears rising fast. “Did you look at my phone?”

“I didn’t look at anything.” I crossed my arms. “It was sitting right there, open. I saw it. That’s not the same as going through it.”

She glared at me, eyes shining—angry and hurt at once—and walked straight past me out of the kitchen without another word.

I let out a heavy breath and dragged a hand through my hair, staring at the mess in front of me. Blackened pans, smoke still curling toward the ceiling, the burnt smell already sinking into every surface.

Welcome home, I guess.

I finished cleaning the kitchen myself once the smoke had cleared, then showered off the last of it clinging to my clothes and hair.

By the time I stepped back out, my stomach was growling, so I got to work on breakfast—eggs, bacon, the works—filling the apartment with a smell good enough to pull anyone out of hiding.

Aria didn’t come out.

I ate alone at the counter, telling myself I didn’t care either way, that a good breakfast going to waste on someone too stubborn to leave her room wasn’t my problem. It still annoyed me more than it should have.

She didn’t come out for lunch either. By the time evening rolled around and I’d made dinner, and she still hadn’t so much as cracked her door open, even I had to admit something felt off. Was she seriously going to ignore me for an entire day over one argument?

I knocked on her door. No response.

“Aria?” I knocked again, harder. “Aria?”

Nothing.

A small, uneasy feeling started creeping in. I pushed the door open. “Aria, I’m coming in.”

The room was empty.

I stood there a second, scanning the space like she might materialize out of a corner if I looked hard enough. Her bed was made. Her shoes were gone from beside the door.

She hadn’t been home all day.

That meant she’d left right after our fight that morning and hadn’t come back since. My stomach twisted in worry. I pulled out my phone and scrolled for her contact, silently thanking Sage for practically forcing me to save her number before she left, insisting it was “just in case.”

I called.

It rang twice before she picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?” Her words came out slurred, stretched out, and

slow in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

Damn. She was obviously drunk.

My grip tightened on the phone. “Aria. Where the fuck are you?!”