Life Of The Party × CH

29

A knock on the door at seven pm sharp startles me. I knew what was coming, I'd been dreading this moment since last Sunday.

I opened the door, grabbing my purse beforehand, finding Cole smiling. "Ready to go?" he asks in the calmest and most gentle voice I'd ever heard him use. It almost makes me forget about all the horrible things he'd done to me. Almost.

"Yeah," I say in a monotone voice as I step outside and close and lock the front door behind me.

"Your dad isn't home?" he asks.

"No," I say. "He's on a date."

"Huh," Cole nods. "Good for him."

"Yeah," I say before I start walking down the porch steps and over to Cole's car. He said he wanted a date, he didn't specify I had to engage in small talk and actually take interest in things.

Cole follows me to his car, sitting down in the driver's seat and turning the ignition key.

Fifteen minutes later, he stops his car at a valet parking in front of a very fancy restaurant, the same very fancy restaurant we went to on our first date.

"Why are we here?" I ask him, looking at him from the passenger seat.

"I wanted to start over," he says as someone opens the door for him.

The door is opened for me as well, by a younger man in a maroon tailored suit. He smiles at me as he lays out his hand, helping me get out of the car. "Thank you," I say, smiling at him.

Cole must've seen him help me out because he quickly threw his car keys at the man. "Take good care of it, will you?" he says in a very rude tone.

I give the man an apologetic look before walking over to Cole so to head inside with him. "You didn't have to be so rude," I tell him in a hushed voice.

"He was checking you out," Cole rolls his eyes.

"I can be pretty attractive when you're not treating me like shit," I say.

Cole clenches his jaw, "You were always attractive."

"That clears up why you called me a slut and a bitch," I roll my eyes, stepping inside the restaurant as the door is held open for me.

"I never called you unattractive."

We were sat on a small table somewhere in the middle of the room, right after Cole argued for fifteen minutes that he'd specifically reserved a booth. I personally didn't mind sitting wherever, I just wanted the night to end sooner.

A few minutes after we were escorted to our seats, a waiter walked up to our table, asking us for our drink order.

I opened my mouth to order myself a drink, but as soon as I did, Cole ordered for the both of us. "Bring us a bottle of Rosé wine."

The waiter nodded before walking off.

"I know you don't drink wine," Cole said, scooting closer to me across the table, "but you'll love this."

"Neither of us is twenty one yet," I remind him.

"We don't have to be," he shrugs. "My dad is a co-owner."

Of course he is, I think as I mentally roll my eyes.

"So," Cole starts what I already assume is going to be a boring conversation, "NYU, huh?"

"Yeah," I say, fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth, "I've always wanted to attend."

"I remember," he cuts me off, "but isn't it far from home?"