Undercover Hate

Chapter Five: How The Fuck Did A Flower Get Me Here?

I slam the car door, the sound reverberating in the empty parking lot, my heart still racing from the argument. I stare ahead, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, and guilt creeps up on me. I feel bad—maybe not for what I said, but for how it all went down. We're both in the wrong, but admitting that right now feels impossible. I exhale sharply, shaking my head, trying to push the thought away.

The last thing I expect is to see Cole running out of the restaurant, his long strides closing the distance between us. Of course, he wasn't going to let it end like this. He reaches my car door, slightly out of breath but somehow still looking like the confident, charming guy who always knows what to say. I roll my eyes, not really wanting to face him again.

I glance out the window, ignoring him. Why is he making this so hard?

He knocks on the window softly, the sound breaking through my internal debate. "Adriana," he says, voice low, almost hesitant. "Can we talk? Please?" There's something different in his tone this time—something I can't ignore.

I let out a frustrated sigh and reluctantly roll down the window. "What?" I snap, though there's no real venom in my voice anymore. I'm exhausted, emotionally spent.

Cole rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly not as smooth as he usually is. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dig so deep. I can be a jackass sometimes, I know that." He meets my eyes, and for a second, I catch something genuine there. "I just... I don't want this to end like that."

I glance at him, skeptical. "Why do you care so much, Cole?"

He shrugs, then does something I didn't expect—he leans down, pulls a small flower from a planter near the restaurant entrance, and awkwardly hands it to me through the window. "I know it's not much, but it's the best I could do on short notice."

I blink, surprised by the gesture. It's so simple, yet oddly adorable. I look at the flower, realizing it's a purple tulip—my favorite kind. Why does he have to be so unexpectedly sweet?

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips despite myself. "You really think a flower's gonna fix this?"

"Probably not," he admits, a sheepish grin on his face. "But I thought it was worth a shot."

I look down at the flower, the tiniest laugh escaping me. It's ridiculous, really. And maybe that's what makes it work. "You're such an idiot."

"But a hot idiot, right?" he shoots back with that stupid grin, the tension between us softening just a little.

"Debatable," I mutter, though my tone is lighter now.

There's a pause, a shared glance, something that passes between us that wasn't there before. Cole clears his throat and takes a step back. "Look, I get it if you don't want to talk. But if you're willing... I'd really like to finish dinner. We didn't even get to the food."

I hesitate, my fingers gripping the steering wheel again. A part of me wants to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. But then I glance at the flower in my hand, and something shifts. "Fine," I say finally. "But no more bullshit, okay?"

"Deal." His smile is softer this time, almost relieved.

I step out of the car, smoothing down my dress, trying to regain some sense of control. Cole takes a careful step back, watching me with an unreadable expression. Then, without saying anything, he walks beside me as we head back toward the restaurant.

He doesn't say much, doesn't push for conversation. Instead, he gently places a hand on the small of my back, guiding me inside as if to say, This isn't over, but let's try again. There's something kind of nice about it, the way he doesn't force anything more than just... being there.