Chapter 14 #2
"I'll have a storage container dropped off by the barn Monday afternoon," Felix says. “That'll give you time to clean it out.”
"That's what we're working on right now," I say.
“You're a miracle worker, Lace," Riley says. "We've been nagging him about that for years. I'm guessing you're aware that he's been living in the same room he had as a kid?"
"Riley?" Cole rumbles. "You can shut the fuck up any time now."
"Good luck with that," Felix says, laughing. "He doesn't have that setting."
"Where do you think you're goin', little lady?" Riley snarls, his tone charged and playful. "I ain't done with you yet." There's another breathy giggle from the line. "I gotta go, boys. Talk later."
"Think he'll ever learn not to answer the phone when he's in the middle of things?" Felix muses.
Cole snickers. "Not likely. Remember when he answered your FaceTime during sex?"
I splutter. "He did not."
"He did," Cole says. "I was there. The girl he was with didn't miss a beat, either. If anything, it kinda seemed like she got off on the attention, a little."
Felix cackles. "Yeah, that was Jana Jessup. She was nuttier than a fruitcake. But then, until Cadence, pretty much everyone he dated was a fucking nutcase."
"We have work to do," I say, taking the phone from Cole. "Bye, Fee."
"Hey, wait," Felix says. “Ember and Cadence are planning a get-together at The Cellar tonight. You guys should join us."
Cole's eyes meet mine; everyone—including the two of us—is acting like Cole and Lacey are right back to being Cole and Lacey like nothing happened.
"I'll let you know in a bit," Cole says. "Thanks for the invite, regardless."
"Oh, shit. I…" Felix sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to put any pressure on you guys. I shouldn't be making any assumptions."
"Fee?" Cole mutters.
"Shut up?"
"Shut up."
“Yeah. See you… whenever." Click.
I toss the phone aside and look up at Cole, who is staring at nothing, his gaze thoughtful and distant.
"I hope you know I'm not…teasing or making fun of you about the whole room thing," I say.
He blinks a few times and then turns his eyes to mine. "Oh, yeah. No, I know. It is kind of pathetic—trust me, I'm aware. Thirty-four and still living not just in my parents’ house but in the same room I grew up in."
"It's not pathetic."
"It is a little." He shrugs. "But I'm changing it now. Moving on."
"I'm sorry, Cole,” I whisper, standing up.
"I'm sorry I abandoned you. I'm sorry I left you alone.
I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to choose for yourself.
I'm sorry I kept the truth from you. I'm sorry I left you feeling trapped and alone.
I'm…" I blink away tears. "I'm just sorry.
You've been stuck and unable to move on with your life for fifteen years, and it's my fault, and I'm sorry. "
He shakes his head. "It's my problem, Lace. I'm the weak one. I know no one, not even Fee, Nyxie, or Rye, has ever understood why I was never able to move on from you. I've never understood it myself."
"Can't lie and say it doesn't sting, hearing that I'm a weakness."
“No. God, no. Lace, I just…" He scrubs his face.
"Fuck. You're not a weakness. It's not you, it's me.
I always felt like if I was a stronger person, I'd have been able to heal.
To move on. To accept that you weren't coming back and to…
" he shakes his head, voice dropping to a ragged whisper.
"I'd be able to accept that you weren't coming back, and I’d have been able to—to fall in love with someone else.
But I'm not. I can't. I haven't. And I don't think I ever will. "
"Cole, I…" my eyes burn, sting, haze. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
His arms wrap around me, pull me against his chest. I resist for a moment—it hurts. To be comforted. To feel so safe in his arms, to hear that familiar thud of his heartbeat under my ear.
But I can't fight it. It's too right. Too good. And that hurts too, because I don't know if I can have him. Hell, it hurts to even admit how badly I want him.
"Shush," he rumbles. "It's okay. It's alright."
"It's not," I whisper. "I ruined your life anyway. Everything I did, I did to protect you, and I still fucked everything up for you."
His thumb nudges my chin up. "I forgive you."
I shake my head. "You can't."
"But I do." His whisper is gentle. "I do.
I forgive you. I understand why you did what you did.
Yeah, it hurt. Yeah, I've really struggled with it over the years.
But you're here. You explained. And I get it.
And…" he sighs, smoothing his thumb over my lower lip.
"I get the sense that things haven't exactly been spectacular for you, either. "
I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, no, not exactly."
"Tell me about it," Cole says. "About him. About everything."
I groan. "God, Cole. It's a fucking lot and it's not pretty." I rest my forehead on his chest and breathe. "I suppose I owe you that."
"No. You don't." He nudges my chin up, so I have to look at him. "The only thing you've ever owed me is an explanation for why you left. You've given me that. You owe me nothing else. If you don't want to tell me about Eddie or any of that, then you don't have to."
"I will. I…I think—" I search myself. "Yeah—I want to. Just not—not right now."
He frames the side of my face with one big scratchy palm, traces the seam of my lips. Kisses me, softly, exquisitely, gently. “Okay," he whispers. "Whenever you're ready."
"Just…" I hate how broken and weak I sound, but then, I know I only feel safe enough to let myself sound that way because it's him. It's Cole. My Cole. "Just kiss me, CoCo. Please. Kiss me. Just kiss me."
I feel his lips curve in a private smile meant just for me. "Now that I can do."
He twists in place and sits on the edge of the bed, and now it's me standing in the V of his hard thick thighs encased in faded denim; I slick my fingernail over his scalp and tip his head backward, knot my fingers in his hair and pull him to me.
He groans raggedly when I part my lips for him and stab my tongue against his.
I peel his tee up and rip it off, toss it aside, scour his heavy muscles and soft skin.
I refuse to break the kiss for anything, even when he shoves my shirt up—I only tear myself away from his mouth long enough to get the neck past my head and then I'm devouring his mouth all over again and he's unhooking my bra and I let go of his shoulders long enough to shrug the thing off, letting it topple to the floor between us.
It's my turn to groan then, when his big rough hands scrape up my belly and gather my heavy, aching breasts, and I groan louder when he pinches my nipples, twists them, gets them hard and thick and pulsing with need.
He hooks his fingers in the waist of my jeans and then cups my ass in his hands.
"You wanna know somethin', Sweet Thing?" he growls, lips moving against mine.
"Every man in that station stared at this big, beautiful, juicy, perfect peach when you left this morning.
" He yanks open the zipper and drags my jeans down to palm my ass over my panties.
"Part of me wanted to rip their eyeballs out for looking at what's mine.
" My heart flips at his words. "But you're not mine. "
"But I am," I whisper, tearful and half-sobbed. "I am. I am, Cole. I am yours. I want to be yours. I've always been yours."
"Lace—"
"Eddie never loved me and I never loved him. I was a belonging to him. A trophy. A prize. Something to show off at the club.” I blink hard.
"He owned my body but he never had my heart.
He never had my soul." I do sob, then. "The worst part is that he never cared.
Because he didn't want that part of me." I cup my boobs.
"He made me get the augmentation because his biggest competition at the firm got his wife a boob job, and Eddie couldn't handle that her tits were bigger and better than mine.
It wasn't…it wasn’t even really about me.
The only part of it that was even about me was that they'd gotten kind of flat and saggy.
They swelled up when I was pregnant and never went back to the perkiness they had before, so when his colleague's wife showed up to a Christmas party we were hosting with these giant, firm, perky balloons, that was it.
I had to…I had to be better than her. For his bragging rights. "
"Jesus," Cole snarls. "I could kill him."
I shake my head. "No, Cole. I bet his nineteen-year-old is already tired of him. That's punishment enough."
“No, it's not. He had you. You were his wife. All he had to do was appreciate the woman you are, but he didn't."
I sob again. "I'm sorry, Cole. We were having this super hot moment and I fucked it all up. It's all I'm good for, I think. Fucking things up for you."
"Bullshit," Cole snaps. "Fuck that." He stands up, now towering over me, and god, I missed that too. Eddie was only an inch taller than me. I like this. I've missed it. Feeling small. Feeling safe because these strong arms surround me, hold me, block out the world.
I rest my forehead on his chest and try to breathe. "Cole, I—" He seizes my mouth with his, and his tongue darts and stabs and seeks, and I suck in a shaky, shuddering, sobbing inhale.
"Shut up and kiss me, woman," he snarls.
I whimper, soften my body against his. "Please?"
His answering growl vibrates against my ribs, and his hands rake over my shoulders and down my spine, shoving my jeans down.
I step out of them, kick them aside. He tries to roll my panties down, too, but they twist into a tangle and get stuck between my thighs.
He growls in frustration, grabs my ass in both hands greedily—but my stupid panties are in the way, and he growls again.
Gripping the panties by the gusset in one hand and the waistband in the other, he yanks hard.
My panties come apart easily, and I'm naked for him.
"That's two pieces of underwear you owe me, now," I murmur.