Chapter Thirty-Eight – Cullen
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGH
CULLEN
H annah’s alarm goes off at the ass-crack of dawn. I have no clue how Verity sleeps through the blaring noise on the other side of the wall. It’s not even a regular alarm; it’s some old pop-punk song, the chorus repeating three times before she shuts it off.
I try to fall back asleep, but it’s impossible. Hannah makes so much damn noise. Verity is a saint to be her roommate.
I spend the next hour admiring the woman in my arms, listening to her soft breaths as she dreams peacefully. Last night had been unexpected. I’d known after the run-in with Celine earlier this week that there was a chance we’d talk about her, but I didn’t bank on it going the whole nine yards.
Recounting the messy history of my ex with my new girlfriend was dangerous territory.
A small part of me had been worried that she would see me as the naive and selfish twenty-something I’d been and not the man I’ve grown into.
It wasn’t just the trauma of my relationship with Celine that shaped me into someone different.
I changed because I got older, and with that came general life experience you can’t gain any other way.
You don’t realize how young you really are at twenty-five—you have this false sense of adulthood after college, not understanding that so much of the world is unexplored. Even now at thirty-five, I am only just starting to settle into my life and am still unsure where the future will lead.
But I am sure about Verity.
She didn’t balk at my past, didn’t judge me for the blow-up of my relationship with Celine. She held me tighter, snuggled with me on the couch, and devoured almost an entire pint of ice cream as we continued to chat well into the night.
A soft chime rings out from Verity’s phone right on the hour, the xylophone tune tinkling into the silence. She groans, eyes squeezing tighter. I shift up, reaching over her body and picking up her phone from the nightstand, turning it off.
“What time is it?” Her morning voice has a drowsy deepness to it that is utterly adorable.
“Eight.”
I plant a kiss on her shoulder. Verity snuggles closer to my chest, looping one of her legs around my waist. Her sweet cunt lines up with my half-hard cock, stirring it to life.
“I don’t wanna get up.”
“I can think of other things to do.”
I run my hand down her back, slipping it under the band of her sleep shorts and cupping her plush ass. I hoist Verity farther up my body, forcing her pussy to slide against my shaft in the most delicious way possible.
“Cullen,” she warns.
“Yes?” I drop a hot kiss to the exposed skin on her neck, my tongue darting out and licking a line to her ear.
She shivers in my arms, a short gasp popping out. Despite her protests, her hips grind against my own, seeking relief. I smirk to myself as I maneuver my hands from her ass cheek to her cunt. She tries to wiggle out of my touch.
“Stop, I’m on my period.”
“So?”
Her eyes pop open, and she places a firm hand on my chest, trying to push me away.
“You are not fingering my bloody vagina.”
I don’t typically mind a little blood, but even I wince at the blunt remark. The way she says it is verging on the unsexy side of things.
“You sure? Blood doesn’t faze me.”
“I’m sure. You might not mind it, but I do. I can’t get in the right head space.”
“Fine, fine.” I relinquish, retreating my hand.
“I have to get up anyway. Can’t be late for that corporate grind.” Her words are thick with sarcasm.
She peels herself out of my arms and swings out of the bed, rubbing her eyes as she goes to open the blinds. Early sunlight filters into her small bedroom, signaling the end to our morning cuddle session.
“You could skip work. I don’t have any showings today.”
“Sweet offer, but even if we weren’t finalizing things for Frankie’s project today, I wouldn’t. I have perfect work attendance.”
She beams, proud at that statement, as she pulls some clothes from her closet.
“You are aware that work is not school; you don’t get bonus points for that. It’s why the government gives you PTO.”
“And that PTO is precious. I’m saving it.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to waste it all willy-nilly.”
“If you always wait for the perfect moment to use it, you never will.”
She frowns. “It’s too early to argue about this.”
“All right, all right.” I slink from the bed, wrapping my arms around her waist. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. The worst of the pain is the first two days; I’ll be fine today.”
I watch her as she goes about her routine getting ready, admiring the mundane morning that feels special just because she is by my side.
I slip back into my clothes from last night and fiddle around with the coffee machine, prepping her a cup as she wiggles her feet into a pair of shiny black loafers.
I know she likes her coffee sweet, so I open the fridge and spot a couple of creamers inside.
After pouring in a healthy glug of birthday cake creamer, I bring it over to her.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
She takes the mug and continues to flitter around the apartment. I’m slightly concerned as she gulps down the coffee in record time, while I take small sips of my bitter brew. We each grab one of the donuts I brought over last night, tucking them into paper napkins before leaving her apartment.
“You know, donuts are the best way to start the day.” She hums happily, biting the strawberry jam-filled dessert.
“I’d argue with that.”
“Oh? All right, let’s hear it then. What’s better than a donut?”
“Sex.”
She chokes on her beloved donut as I continue scrolling through my emails, sorting through the listing inquiries I received overnight.
“Seriously?”
I give her a wicked grin. “What? You’re going to argue donuts are better than morning sex?”
A commuter passing us falters in their steps, giving us a sidelong glance before continuing on their way. Verity gives me a glare.
“Could you be any louder?”
I laugh before biting into my own hazelnut donut, eliciting an eye roll from my girlfriend.
A new email populates to the top of my inbox, the sender and subject line capturing my attention. I click on it, giving the contents a quick scan. Not even a moment later, a text comes through from Alonso.
ALONSO: check your email
ME: I did
ME: you asking me out on a date?
ALONSO: you’re hilarious
ME: then why are you inviting me to a charity gala?
ALONSO: because Clifton donated half a mil to it
Interesting.
“Hey, what are you doing on the twenty-ninth?”
“Uh, I don’t think I have anything planned. That’s a few weeks away.” Verity looks back at me before scanning into the turnstile in the subway station. “Why?”
I swipe my watch after her.
“Want to come to a charity gala with me?”
Her eyebrows rise. “Charity gala?”
“Yeah, one of my clients will be there, and I need to woo him.”
“Is this that guy you were telling me about?”
“Yeah, the bank deal.”
She mulls it over for a moment, the wind in the tunnel whipping the stray hairs that have escaped her ponytail as the train enters the station.
“I’ve never been to one of those before. It sounds kind of fancy. What would I even wear?”
“It’s black tie, so anything like what you wore to Jace’s event.”
“Oh.” Her brows furrow as she plants herself onto one of the plastic seats. She gnaws on the corner of her bottom lip, seemingly affected by my suggestion. I have no idea why, though.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just—” She lets out a deep sigh, gaze averted. “I don’t really have anything else like that dress. Hannah has some, but she’s about two sizes smaller than me.”
“Not an issue. Why don’t I go shopping with you?”
“You would willingly go shopping with me?” She looks at me like I’ve grown three heads.
“Yeah, why not?”
“Men don’t normally jump at the prospect of shopping trips.”
“Most men don’t have a Chloe and a Bridget in their lives. Those two have dragged me around the city on more unsuspecting shopping trips than I can count.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. They love using me to carry all their bags. Plus, Bridge says I have a pretty good eye.”
“You three have a cute relationship,” she laughs.
“I consider them both my annoying younger sisters. Bridge gets a bad rap in the media, but she’s as loyal as they come.” An odd look passes over Verity’s face, my words having caused some unforeseen effect. “How about we shop in SoHo tomorrow? I have a showing at ten but could meet you at twelve.”
“Cullen, you really don’t have to. I’m not even sure what I’d do at a charity gala.”
“You’d have fun with me.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just say yes.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Verity these last few months, it’s that she doesn’t like to take the initiative if she feels it’ll be a burden on the other person. Which is why I always push her with my own agenda.
“Fine, I’ll go to the event. But you don’t need to take me shopping. I’ll sort something out myself.”
“No way. The shopping is just a selfish excuse on my behalf so I can spend more time with you.” I plant a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Your stop is here.” I stand up and hold out a hand, letting her use me as leverage to stand from her seat. I give her another quick kiss before tapping her on the ass and urging her out of the train car. I can tell she wants to protest, but the train doors threaten to close, so she scurries out.
She turns back and gives me a stern look, pointing a finger at me and shouting just before the doors shut.
“I’m not going!”
Verity’s lips are pursed, hands balled into fists, as she approaches me outside the café I’d asked her to meet me at. Despite all her protests yesterday, she’s shown up. It isn’t in Verity’s nature to leave someone hanging.
“I don’t want to be here.”
I haul open the café door, gesturing her inside with a smile. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“I’m serious, Cullen. We don’t need to go shopping.”
“This place has a mint chocolate coffee.”
“Wait, really?”