Chapter 2
OAKLEY
Walking up the steps, I stuff my hands deeper into my pockets as a gush of wind hits my face.
Pissed, irritated, and annoyed; all the feelings are rushing through me right now.
It never fails, no matter whom I seem to date.
The first few weeks are like a honeymoon period.
They’re on their best behavior, we’re having a great time, and then they try to tell me I’m too close to Cole and I need to give them more attention.
What the actual fuck.
It’s somehow still surprising to me, even though at this point in my life, it shouldn’t be.
They try to tell me we spend too much time together, or they try to get me to spend more and more time with them.
But what they all fail to realize is that they’ll never be number one in my life.
That spot’s been taken since I was five years old, and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.
It’s just getting tiring having to go through the same ol’ song and dance.
Alex and I got into yet another fight tonight over Cole.
I kept trying to leave our date a little early, but she would not let up.
All I wanted was to head over to Peaches and cheer Cole on while he got on stage.
As soon as she realized where I was going, she started bitching at me.
I do this, and I do that, and I never think of her feelings or what she’s going through.
To be honest, I tuned out for about 80% of her speech, which she realized and started lecturing me on that as well.
I finally had enough and walked away to the sound of her screeching in my ears like a banshee.
I’m not planning to call her again. Hell no.
The quiet sound of nothing hits my ears as I enter Cole’s and my apartment.
My shoulders slump, knowing that he’s already asleep.
Dammit. Using the small nightlight in the hallway, I let it guide me as I head into the kitchen to grab a cold water bottle.
Guzzling down half of it, I sigh, leaning against the counter, dropping my head to my chest. Fuck, I’m tired as hell.
All I want to do is crawl into bed, shove my blanket over my head, and fall asleep quickly.
A waft of smoke hits my nostrils, and I grimace, realizing I smell like that bar I was sitting in.
Ripping my black shirt over my head, I snatch up my water and head into the bathroom.
I turn on the shower, toss all my clothes into the hamper, then stand under the rushing hot water for far longer than necessary.
Once my skin is a wrinkly, pruney mess, I head into my room, sliding a pair of briefs up my legs.
Pulling down my blanket, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable.
Ugh. Nothing is working.
Getting up, I tiptoe down the hall, opening Cole’s door, wincing when it creaks.
Cole is in the fetal position, facing away from the door.
He has his hood over his head, but I can guarantee he has his headphones on and it’s playing some type of white music.
I never listen to music while I’m sleeping, but Cole always tells me how relaxing it is.
Some nights it’s white noise or water sounds, and one night he even listened to animal sounds.
I, on the other hand, need it to be dark and quiet when I go to sleep.
Crawling into his bed, I snuggle in close, my body relaxing when his deflates next to me. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and I smile as my eyes drift closed. This was what I needed.
The aroma and sounds of sizzling bacon greet me as I blink my eyes open.
Stretching widely, I’m confused for a few seconds before remembering I climbed into Cole’s bed last night.
I have no shame in admitting that one of us finds himself in the other’s bed multiple times a week.
It’s been that way for years. It started off when we would hang out and fall asleep playing video games, then it transitioned to when we would drink too much and didn’t want to move.
Then it just became a habit. I don’t know about Cole, but I seem to sleep a lot better when he’s next to me.
There’s just something relaxing about being next to your best friend.
Which is another thing Alex fought with me about.
Rolling my eyes, I toss the blankets off my body and sit up against the side of the bed.
For a split second, I had forgotten about my fight with her last night.
I already know I need to message her and apologize for walking out, but not just yet.
I’m still too irritated. Even though I know we’re done, I still don’t want to seem like a dick.
After taking a piss and brushing my teeth, I make my way out to the kitchen.
Cole is in a pair of red plaid pajama pants with a black sweatshirt and his Beats over his ears.
Those damn headphones. There have been so many days when I’ve had to yell and shout down the hallway, trying to get his attention, only to realize he probably had them on his ears and hadn’t been able to hear a word I’d said.
I take a spot next to the couch, watching as he takes some tongs to flip the bacon.
His long brown hair is unruly, and his fingers likely ran through it countless times during his sleep last night.
He’s swaying his hips, drawing attention to his lean body.
While he isn’t as muscular as I am, he’s also not skinny.
He has no idea I’m awake, and it’s hilarious watching him dance around the stove.
Of course, Cole can dance—he works as a stripper for fuck’s sake—but the dancing he’s doing right now would not earn him any tips.
I try to stifle my laughter as he brings the tongs to his body and seductively trails them down his sweatshirt, leaving behind a grease trail.
He grabs hold of the handle, then spins the pan before doing a body roll against the stove.
I have never in my life seen someone try to cook seductively, and it’s hilarious.
It’s like having a Magic Mike show in my very own kitchen.
He lets go of the handle to flip the bacon when it starts popping.
“Shit, fuck, damn, owww,” he chants, flicking his hand back and forth as he jumps up and down in place.
At this point, I can’t stop myself, and I laugh loudly, but of course, he doesn’t turn around since he can’t hear me.
“Whose bright idea was it to make breakfast anyway?” he mumbles, leaning far away from the pan, making sure he doesn’t get hit with the hot grease again.
“Fucking bacon, you better not attack me again. Or else I’ll fry your ass to a burnt crisp.
Don’t try me,” he scolds, pointing the tongs toward the bacon as it’s sizzling loudly in the pan.
Cole grabs the rest of the bacon and puts it onto a plate before turning around and facing me. “Hi,” I mouth, a shit-eating grin on my face as his eyes widen.
He takes his headphones off his head and rolls his eyes. “How much did you see?”
“Well, you’re either trying to seduce your breakfast or scold it. Or… ohhh,” I add cheekily, “playing Daddy to your breakfast is what you were doing, huh? Hanging around Jonas too much?” I joke about the bouncer/co-owner of Peaches.
Jonas is dating one of the bartenders, Preston, from the club, and one night, I saw way more than I intended to.
I was waiting by the back entrance for Cole when Jonas and Preston came barreling out of the club, hands all over one another.
I didn’t want them to think I was some creepy stalker, so I stayed hidden in the shadows of the wall, keeping quiet.
Which, thinking about it now, makes me seem exactly like a creepy stalker.
Especially because I watched as Jonas shoved Preston up against a car, then they made out for a few minutes before pulling away, and Preston called him Daddy.
I’d never heard anyone call someone Daddy before, but it fits them and who they are.
Of course, as soon as Cole exited the club, I immediately told him what I’d heard, and he just giggled, saying Preston calls Jonas that all the time at Peaches.
“Whatever. I do not want to be with a woman who wants to call me Daddy,” he shudders, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of orange juice. “Speaking of, how was your date last night? Missed you at the club.”
Cole avoids eye contact as he asks, and I feel even more like an ass. “I swear I was trying to make it over there, but Alex was complaining, and then we got into an argument. It lasted longer than I thought it would.”
“An argument?” He scrunches his eyebrows, tilting his head. “About me? Or about Peaches?”
“Both?” I say questioningly, not quite sure how to answer. “She was upset that I was cutting our date short.”
“But was she upset that you were coming to see me? Or that you were going to Peaches in general? If I remember correctly, Sarah had a problem with Peaches, too.”
“Ah, yes, Sarah,” I mutter, remembering the girl I was talking to before Alex.
She really had a problem with me going to Peaches.
She kept saying I was going there to watch the men on stage and would get mad and jealous every time I went to watch Cole.
No matter how many times I tried to explain why I was going, she wouldn’t believe that I was just wanting to cheer Cole on.
Obviously, that ‘talkingship’ didn’t make it past that first stage.
But I thought Alex was different. Hell, she even came with me and was gushing over Cole and his dance moves.
“No, it wasn’t Peaches. Honestly, I don’t even know why she started the argument.
” Reaching across the counter, I grab a piece of bacon and put it in my mouth.
“I’m sorry. I hope it isn’t because of me,” Cole replies, then slaps my hand. “I didn’t make both of us breakfast. I was cooking for one.”
“Well, that’s where you went wrong,” I tell him, snatching another piece. “You should have known I would want some. But, eh, I’ll figure it out with Alex.”
“Mhmm-hmm,” he mumbles, glancing away. “I’m going out with Bash and Tristan today. Are you still planning to come to Peaches tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” If I’m being honest, I’m a little hurt that he didn’t ask me to go with him, but I get it. Since he started working at Peaches, he’s been making new friends and has started hanging out with them more.
“I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah, for sure.”