Chapter 42 Keep Her Out

Chapter 42 Keep Her Out
Lena’s footsteps hit the top of the stairs just as my stomach drops straight through the floor. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I swear she can hear it from the hallway. Cole’s eyes lock onto mine for one frozen second, wide with the same panic that is currently choking me. We are both half-naked, the air still smells like sex and sweat, and his daughter is about to walk straight into the middle of it.
“Bathroom,” he hisses under his breath, already moving.
I dont wait for a second invitation. I snatch my pants and underwear off the floor and bolt for the bathroom door, slipping inside just as Lena’s voice floats closer.
“Dad? You up here? I thought I heard yelling or something.”
My hands shake as I ease the door almost shut behind me, leaving just a thin crack so I can listen. I press my back against the cool tile wall, clutching my clothes to my chest like they might somehow make me invisible. My mind races through every possible disaster. If she pushes the door open even an inch, if she smells us on the air, if Cole slips up for even one word, everything we have been hiding explodes right here.
Cole’s voice comes through the crack, calm and steady like he has not just been inside me minutes ago. “Yeah, I’m right here. Just finished a conference call with one of the athletic suppliers. They kept me on longer than I expected. What’s going on?”
I hear Lena stop in the hallway, her sneakers squeaking softly on the wood floor. “Conference call? You sounded pretty worked up for a supplier talk. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” he says, and I can picture him stepping forward to block her path without making it obvious. Fabric rustles as he must be pulling on a shirt. “Just tired after the game today. Long week. You know how it is.”
Lena laughs, that light easy sound I have heard a thousand times when she is about to tease him. “You’re acting weird, Dad. Since when do you hide in your room after a win? Usually you’re downstairs raiding the fridge and complaining about the refs.” A pause. “Anyway, I just need to grab something quick from your room and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
My pulse spikes. His room. Where we are. Where the couch still bears the imprint of what we did. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray he can stall her.
Cole’s tone stays even, but I catch the slight edge underneath. “My room is a mess right now. There are clothes literally everywhere from changing after the game. Let me just get whatever you need and bring it down to you.”
“Oh please,” Lena says, and I hear her take another step forward. “I’ve seen your room in a mess a hundred times. Move, I’ll just be a second.”
There’s a loaded pause. I imagine Cole shifting his body to keep blocking her, his broad shoulders filling the hallway so she cannot slip past. My breath comes shallow and fast. If she pushes, if she insists, this is over.
“Lena, seriously,” he says, a touch firmer now. “I want to jump in the shower right now before I crash. Just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll grab it for you. No big deal.”
“Why’re you being so extra today?” She huffs, but her voice sounds slightly amused. “Fine. I cant find my charger anywhere and my phone’s about to die. Yours is usually on your nightstand. Can I just run in and get it?”
Another beat of silence stretches out. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, every muscle in my body locked tight. Come on, Cole. Keep her out.
“I’ll bring it down to you as soon as I’m done showering,” he replies smoothly. “Give me ten minutes. There should still be some of that leftover pasta in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
Lena is quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again her tone has shifted to something closer to suspicion mixed with confusion. “Dad, you’re acting really weird. Like… a lot weirder than usual. Is everything okay? Did something happen after the game? You barely said two words to anyone on the field today.”
“Just tired,” he insists, and I can hear the exhaustion he is leaning into now, making it sound believable. “Long day. Tournament pressure, scouts watching, the whole thing. I’ll be down in a bit. Promise.”
There is another pause, longer this time. I shift my weight carefully, trying not to make a sound. My clothes are still balled in my arms, and I realize I’m holding my breath.
“Never mind,” Lena says finally, her voice lighter again but with a hint of resignation. “I was about to head over to Riley’s anyway. I’ll just charge it there. Save me some of that pasta though.”
Relief floods through me so fast my knees nearly buckle. She’s leaving. She is actually walking away.
“Yeah, will do,” Cole answers, his voice steady. “Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”
“Will do, old man,” she calls back, already heading down the stairs. Her footsteps fade, the front door opens and closes with a soft click, and then the house falls quiet again except for the distant sound of her car starting up outside.
I wait another full minute, trying to steady my racing heart, before I ease the bathroom door open and step out. Cole is standing in the middle of the hallway with his shirt half-buttoned and hair still damp from his earlier shower. He looks at me, and for a second neither of us says anything. The silence feels heavier than the argument we were having before Lena showed up.
I clear my throat and manage a small, shaky smile. “Is she gone?”
He nods once, running a hand over his face. “She’s gone. Headed to your place to charge her phone. We got lucky.”
The awkwardness settles between us like dust after a storm. I pull on my pants quickly, suddenly self-conscious in a way I wasn’t when his hands were all over me. My mind replays the fight, the way his words cut and how mine flew right back at him. We were yelling. We were saying things we probably shouldn’t have. And now here we are again, caught in the same cycle.
Cole breaks the silence first, his voice lower now but still edged with frustration. “Do you see this is exactly why we cannot work? We are literally hiding from my daughter like freaking teenagers. What kind of relationship does that make?”
I finish zipping my pants and look up at him, feeling that familiar mix of anger and hurt rising again. “I never said I wanted a relationship, Cole. Those words just slipped out in the heat of the moment. You don’t have to make it into something bigger than it is.”
He lets out a short laugh that holds no humor. “Those were some pretty strong words for someone who doesn’t want a relationship. You cannot throw something like that at me and then act like it means nothing.”
I turn toward the door, ready to leave before this turns into fight round two, but a thought stops me. I pause with my hand on the knob and look back at him over my shoulder. The sight of him standing there, still flushed from everything we did, hair messy from my fingers, hits me harder than I expect. Memories flood in uninvited, and I cannot help the bitter edge that creeps into my voice.
“How ironic,” I say, keeping my tone light but letting the sarcasm drip through. “The last time I was here you were literally just out of the shower too. We had an intense night that ended with my heart broken and scattered all over the floor.” His jaw clenches slightly but I continue, “You really do have a thing for patterns, don’t you?”
With that, I pull the door open and step out into the hallway, closing it softly behind me. My legs feel unsteady as I make my way down the stairs, the house quiet around me now that Lena has left. Every creak of the floorboards sounds too loud in my ears. I reach the front door, my hand already reaching for the knob, when my eyes drop to the mat just inside.
My soccer shoes are there, neatly placed side by side with the laces still tied from the game earlier today.
My heart leaps straight into my throat. I stare at them, frozen in place then reach down brushing my fingers against the familiar worn leather, as the realization slowly dawns on me. These shoes are proof. Proof that I was here, proof that I came straight from the game to Cole’s house instead of going home like I told everyone.
I swallow hard, my pulse thundering in my ears, wondering whether Lena saw it on her way out and wondering how much longer we can keep pretending none of this is going to catch up to us.