Thirty and Single.

Chapter 7.

A week passed.

Seven full days of pretending like Colton didn't exist.

I avoided him with an intensity I didn't know I was capable of timing my trash runs so they didn't coincide with his, keeping my curtains drawn, and faking phone calls whenever I walked to my car. Cowardly? Maybe. But my pride needed time to recover.

I told myself I was over it.

Until I heard a knock on my door.

I was curled up on the couch, watching reruns of New Girl, halfway through a pint of cookie dough ice cream. I wasn't expecting anyone. My heart pounded. A small, ridiculous part of me already knew who it was.

I opened the door.

There he stood, Colton. Wearing a crisp white t-shirt that clung to his chest, and khaki shorts that looked almost too good on him. His hair was tousled like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his expression? Calm. Almost...too calm.

I hesitated.

I wanted to shut the door. To pretend this moment wasn't happening. But it was too late.

"Genesis," he said, his voice low and steady. "I know you've been avoiding me."

I swallowed hard. "Uh... hi, Colton."

"Hi," he echoed, then paused before adding, "Can I come in?"

My mind screamed no. But my mouth betrayed me.

"Yeah. Sure. Come in."

He stepped inside and took a seat on the edge of my couch like he wasn't sure he belonged there. I sat across from him, hugging a throw pillow to my chest like it could shield me.

An awkward silence settled between us, thick and suffocating.

Then he spoke.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

I fumbled. "I... I haven't been avoiding you. I've just been, you know... busy with work. There's this article I'm supposed to publish, and it's just been... really stressful. Lots of deadlines, and editing, and—"

"You're really bad at lying," he said with a small chuckle.

My cheeks flamed. "What?"

"You stammer when you lie. And your voice goes higher. You just did both."

Caught.

I didn't respond. I just looked down at my lap, wishing I could disappear into the fabric of the couch.

"Genesis..." he said softly. "I know you like me."

Those words made my heart flutter and plummet all at once. A cocktail of hope and dread churned in my chest.

"And I like you too," he continued.

I looked up.

Wait... what?

"But—"

There it was. The dreaded but.

"I like you as a friend," he said gently, like he thought kindness could cushion the blow. "I know you've been out on dates, trying to find something meaningful. But I'm not that guy, Genesis. I've got flaws, big ones. I'm not great at relationships. I'd probably break your heart, and I care about you too much to let that happen."

His words landed like punches. One after another.

By the time he finished, my heart was already cracked open.