Only, Always, and Forever You

26 - Package

Cole's POV:

I tell Amara to go to my car and wait for me so that I can go talk to someone. I'm definitely not doing that, but I decide that it's easier to use that as an excuse, rather than telling her the truth.

The truth being that my father left me a package in the front office, and he wants me to pick it up. He's leaving for D.C. today, and he won't be back for a while. I'm totally fine with that; I didn't like him here in the first place. Better yet, he should just stay in D.C., he might have more fun there anyway.

I walk into the office and ask the lady at the front desk for my package. She recognizes me right away as 'Mr. Anderson's son,' and she hands me a large envelope, no longer flat thanks to something inside.

I open the package while still in the office, wanting to be near a trash can in case I get that disgusted by its contents. It is from my father after all.

I pull out an antique watch and a piece of paper. I try to read the paper, but I only get to the "Dear Son," before I want to gag. I'll read it later, maybe.

The watch, I immediately recognize as my Grandfather's, is newly polished, but it still holds its antique leather and brass rim. The hands of the clock are spaded at the ends and the numbers are printed in Roman numerals around the edges.

I always loved my Grandfather, and I especially admired this watch. Apparently, it has been passed down from father to son for generations in my family. However, I don't want to accept such a sentimental gift from my father. He isn't even a real father anyway.

I don't know how my father ended up the way he is because my Grandfather was an incredible man. He was strong and determined, but he was also calm, methodical, and caring. All of which my father is not.

I decide to think about all of this and what it means later, focusing on Amara right now. I stuff the watch and note back into the envelope and place it carefully in my backpack. Then, I leave the office and walk briskly down the corridor toward the exit.

As I leave the building, I see a figure leaning on my car, poking their head through the passenger window. I know for damn sure that they aren't a girl, so who the fuck is touching my car and why?

I get closer and realize that Amara is already in the car, talking to the boy outside. I can now see that the boy is dirty blonde, slightly shorter than me, and sporting an athletic build.

I can see the way he's trying to flirt, but she isn't blushing around him like she does with me.

Pathetic.

I feel my fists and jaw clench, rage heating up my body from the inside out. After my father's 'gift' and now this, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my cool— even in front of Amara.

As I get closer, storming toward my car, I can hear their conversation:

"No, it is a really nice car though," Amara says politely, and I would smirk at the compliment if I weren't so angry.

"Whose is it?" the boy asks, and I'm revolted by the sound of his voice.

"It's—"

"It's mine," I cut her off, sending the boy a look that could kill, "So get your grimy hands off of it."

I make no effort to move, and my stance doesn't falter as I'm standing there and glaring at him.

"Sorry, man. No need to get upset," the boy says, trying to pacify me, but I almost laugh at the way his voice gets close to cracking.

Everything around me starts to fade, and I'm only seeing red. I want to strangle this little boy for telling me that there's 'no need to get upset'. Who the fuck does he think he is?

I swear, I'm about to jump him when I'm pulled out of my spiral by the angelic sound of her voice, "Cole, I have to go, please, can we just drop this?"

I break my glare when I hear her pleading, and for the first time in a long time, I step back and walk away from confrontation.

I don't know what she's doing to me, but she didn't even have to ask me a second time for me to listen to her words. I know she means more to me than kicking some idiot's ass, so he can wait for another day.

I walk around the car and sit down, not even bothering to buckle my seatbelt before I take off.

"Is that the friend you're hanging out with tomorrow?" I ask, a sourness to my tone.

I put two and two together the second I saw him leaning against my car, but I need to hear her say it. Earlier, when she told us she was hanging out with someone, I had my suspicions, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I didn't even want to think about her being with another guy in that way, let alone see her with one.

"I- um- yes," she replies, "Can you please slow down, please."

I hadn't even realized how fast I was going until she said something, but I immediately slow down when I hear the fright in her voice.

Fuck.

I never wanted to make her feel like this. I can't stand that I'm the reason she's scared.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I just- I was just upset. I didn't mean to scare you, Amara," I apologize, cursing myself for stuttering so much.

It's quiet for another few minutes before I can't hold back anymore— I need to know.

"Is it a date?" I ask, and I feel how raw and hurt my voice is, but I hope she can't.

"No!" I almost jump at her eager, immediate response; I've never heard her speak so loud, "We're just hanging out as friends."

"Oh, okay," I reply softly.

I feel somewhat relieved by her answer, but I'm also not yet convinced. I know what guys like him want, and I know that even if she thinks it's just innocent, that's probably not what he has in mind.

Suddenly, I come up with an idea. A way that I can both keep an eye on her to make sure she's okay, and so that I can make sure that kid knows his place. It'll take a bit of convincing, I'm sure, but nothing I can't do.

"Well, since it's just as friends, why don't you guys join us at my house? It wouldn't be interrupting anything. Plus, that way we can work on the project and your friend can still tag along," I suggest slyly.

A foreign feeling has been creeping up on me all day, or at least, ever since AP Lit. It enrages me and frightens me at the same time, like a flaming boulder sinking in my stomach.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say it's jealousy.

"Sure, that sounds like fun," she agrees, and I'm taken aback by her compliance. I thought I was going to have to work a lot harder for that, and now I don't know how to feel...

"Cool" I manage, not knowing what else to say.

I'm not sure what's going to happen, and I'm not even sure who this kid is. But one thing is certain:

I made a promise to protect Amara, so no grubby little snake is going to lay a hand on my princess.