Chapter 24 - Brother Advice ♡︎

Cole trudged up the stairs, every step heavy with irritation. He could still hear Jackie's words echoing in his head—her calm but cutting tone, the way she always managed to twist things to make him sound like the bad guy. He shoved his door open and walked inside, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair before shutting it with a quiet thud. The room was dim, the only light spilling from his desk lamp and the faint glow of the moon through his window. He sat down on the edge of his bed and let out a long exhale, trying to get his thoughts to stop spinning.

A knock came at the door. Sharp. Persistent.

Cole groaned and tilted his head back. "What?" he called.

"It's me," Alex's voice came from the other side, calm as always.

"Of course it is," Cole muttered under his breath. "Come to lecture me too?" He got up and opened the door, leaning against the frame with a tired expression. "What do you want, Alex?"

Alex raised his brows slightly, not looking the least bit fazed by Cole's mood. "Can I come in?"

Cole sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not really in the mood to talk."

"That's fine," Alex said, brushing past him anyway and stepping into the room. "I'll talk. You can listen."

Cole's jaw tightened. "Seriously, man?" He shut the door again, irritation flaring as he turned around to see Alex already making himself comfortable, standing near his desk like he owned the place. "You've got about thirty seconds before I throw you out."

Alex smiled faintly. "You sound just like you did when Jackie first got here."

That made Cole pause, just for a second. He crossed his arms and frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alex's tone stayed even, but there was an amused glint in his eyes. "You remember how we used to be, right? Always fighting over her. Always trying to prove who could make her laugh more, which one of us was better for her. You'd act like you didn't care, but everyone could see you did. It was exhausting."

Cole rolled his eyes. "Don't bring up ancient history, Alex. That was a long time ago."

"Exactly," Alex said smoothly. "And now it's happening again. Only this time, it's not Jackie—it's Olive."

Cole blinked, stunned by how casually Alex had said it. "What?"

Alex shrugged, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "You're not fooling anyone, Cole. You can keep pretending you're just being protective, but I've seen this before. That look you give Olive when she walks in a room? The way you talk about her when you think no one's listening? It's the same look you used to have when you saw Jackie laughing with me."

Cole groaned loudly and sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with both hands. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm not," Alex replied calmly, crossing his arms now. "And I get it. Olive's different. She's not like the girls you've been with. She's sweet, quiet, innocent. You feel like you have to protect her. But you're not just protecting her, Cole—you're trying to keep her for yourself. And that's not fair to her."

Cole dragged his hands down his face, his elbows on his knees. "You sound just like Jackie," he muttered. "You two probably planned this."

Alex chuckled quietly. "No, trust me, we didn't. But she's right about one thing—you can't keep controlling what Olive does. You might care about her, but she needs to live her own life."

Cole's head lifted slightly, his green eyes flicking toward Alex. "I don't have feelings for her," he said finally, the words coming out too fast, too defensive.

Alex gave him a knowing look. "Then why do you look like someone punched you every time another guy talks to her?"

Cole's lips parted, but nothing came out. He wanted to argue, to push back, but the truth was sitting heavy in his chest, impossible to ignore. Alex's words hit harder because they were right.

After a long silence, Cole let out a low groan and fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "You're so damn annoying," he muttered.

Alex smiled faintly. "I know. But I'm not wrong." He started walking toward the door but paused, glancing back. "Look, Cole. Whatever's going on with you and Olive... just be honest—with her, and with yourself. Don't mess it up because you're scared of how you feel."

Cole didn't respond. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts louder than the quiet room around him.

As the door clicked shut behind Alex, Cole exhaled slowly and turned his head toward the window, watching the shadows of the trees sway in the night breeze. His heart still raced, and his mind replayed Alex's words again and again.

He muttered softly to himself, "I don't like her."

But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie.___

Cole kicked off his shoes and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly toward the chair by his desk. His mind was buzzing—loud, relentless. Alex's words looped through his head like an echo he couldn't shake. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy blond hair before unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them. The room felt strangely quiet now, only the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the distant creaks of the old house filling the air.

He slipped under the covers, the cool sheets brushing against his skin, but they did nothing to calm him. His body was tired, but his mind refused to rest. He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, jaw tightening, replaying the conversation with Alex—every single word.

"You've got feelings for her.""You're not fooling anyone."

Cole sighed heavily and rubbed his hands over his face, frustrated at how easily Alex had gotten under his skin. Maybe he was right, maybe not—but Cole didn't want to think about that. What he did know was that the idea of Olive sitting across from Dylan, laughing at his dumb jokes, blushing when he complimented her, made something inside of him twist.

He sat up in bed, the sheets falling to his waist, and muttered to himself, "No way. Not happening." His voice was low, rough, almost a growl. He looked toward his window, where the moonlight spilled faintly across the floorboards, and let out another long breath. "Dylan doesn't get to touch her. He doesn't even know her."

Cole leaned back against his headboard, his expression softening for a moment as he thought of Olive—the way her cheeks turned pink when she got nervous, the way she fiddled with her sleeves when she was thinking, the way her voice trembled but she still tried to stand her ground. She was too innocent for someone like Dylan. Too gentle for that kind of game.

"She wouldn't even know what to do on a date," he said under his breath, his tone quieter now, almost thoughtful. "She'd be all shy and awkward... and he'd take advantage of that." He clenched his jaw again, the image of Olive sitting at some table with Dylan flashing in his mind. "Not happening," he repeated, his green eyes hardening with resolve.

He turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up halfway, staring at the dim outline of his desk across the room. His thoughts wouldn't stop circling her—her smile, her laugh, the way she had fallen asleep on his shoulder earlier that day. He remembered how peaceful she'd looked in that flower field, her head resting against him, the wind in her hair. Something in his chest ached unexpectedly.

Cole exhaled slowly, his eyes half-closing as he whispered to himself, "I don't care what Jackie says... I'm not letting her go on that date tomorrow."

He laid there for a long time, his heartbeat slow but restless, his thoughts too tangled to make sense of. Eventually, he turned on his back again and closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come easily.