Thirty and Single.

Chapter 13.

Corey drove me home in silence, though he kept sneaking glances at me like he was trying to read my mind.

"Are you okay?" he asked for the third time.

I wasn't. Not even close.

But how could I tell him that? How could I say, I should be on the back of Colton's motorbike right now, arms around him, my heart full instead of torn?

So, I just nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

We pulled into my driveway, and I noticed the mechanic was already there. Thank God. Maybe tomorrow I could start fresh, no more unwanted rides or complicated feelings.

The mechanic worked quickly. Corey stayed the whole time, leaning against his car with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was waiting for something. When the guy finally finished and my car was humming again like it had never broken down, I thought, this is it. He'll say goodbye. He'll leave.

But he didn't.

Instead, he followed me inside.

I didn't know what to say. I felt like a hostess in my own home, forced to entertain a guest I wasn't expecting. I went to my room and changed into something more comfortable, a soft lavender hoodie and black leggings. When I returned to the living room, I caught Corey staring.

His eyes were wide, admiring, almost too much.

"Um, do I have something on my face?" I asked awkwardly, running my hand over my cheek.

He chuckled, then shook his head. "No. You're just... really beautiful, Genesis."

I gave him a small, polite smile. "Thank you."

I sat on the opposite couch, placing distance between us. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.

I wanted him to leave. Not because he wasn't kind but because my heart was somewhere else. Someone else.

Then he glanced at his watch and said, "It's almost dinner time. Let me make us something."

That caught me off guard.

"You want to cook?" I blinked.

He smiled. "Yeah. I've got this."

He disappeared into my kitchen like it was his own. I sat there, stunned. The guilt started creeping in. He was being so... sweet. Too sweet. And I was sitting here with my heart beating for someone else.

Eventually, I got up and followed the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen.

"Hmm... it smells good in here," I said gently.

He was chopping yellow onions with practiced ease. His focus on the blade made him look like one of those chefs you see in upscale restaurants.

He turned to me, eyes twinkling, and smiled but didn't speak.

"Um... is there anything I can help with?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. Just take a seat and let me take care of you."

So, I sat. I watched him move around my kitchen like he belonged there. He took out a wine glass and poured me some red wine, handing it to me with a wink.

"This is for you, gorgeous."

"Thanks, Corey," I said, accepting the glass with a little smile.

He went back to chopping. I watched him in silence, trying to ignore the swirl of emotions inside me.

"So, what are you making?" I asked, taking a sip.

"Fajita chicken with rice."

I smiled. "Sounds delicious."