Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
I lasted ten minutes.
Ten fucking minutes, and I was already going out of my mind. It was sad when I preferred the company of a jerk over silence, particularly when I spent so much of my time looking for solitude.
Now that I’d been detached from the world, I craved human contact.
Just not Cole’s.
Never Cole’s.
Feeling braver and more in control of my emotions, I opened the door, waving my flashlight down the hallway. This time, no one jumped out at me or pressed me into the wall. I’d call that progress.
Shadows drew me toward the living room, in the opposite direction of the kitchen. They twirled and curled on the walls, and I was entranced by the warm glow burning brighter the closer I came. I never thought I feared the dark, but the prospect of spending days in it without seeing the sun made me feel claustrophobic.
Ironic considering the size of this house. Maybe it was too much space for a girl whose bedroom was just barely big enough to fit a bed and dresser. I didn’t know what to do with all the extra legroom.
Clicking off the flashlight, I turned the corner and paused, swallowing a gasp. I didn’t know what I thought I would find, but seeing Cole s prawled out on one of the couches, surrounded by dozens of candles and a low-burning fire had me rethinking leaving the bathroom.
It was safer there than here because every inch of Cole Riley oozed trouble.
He lifted a bottle to his lips. The prick would make it look like he was shooting a sexy liquor commercial. Not going to lie, but I wanted to buy a lifetime supply.
I’d never been so hot and cold with a guy before.
It couldn’t be normal to be intrigued by someone you wanted to cause bodily harm to.
I must have sighed or made some sort of dreamy sound that summoned his gaze. His mouth tipped when he saw me standing at the edge of the room, watching him.
How was I supposed to act, and what was I supposed to do? I was a virtual stranger who’d broken into his house. Despite being familiar with the layout, it wasn’t mine, and freely roaming around with Cole here felt invasive on both parts.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked after swallowing from his bottle.
“Is it cold?” I asked, my body suddenly flushed.
His lips twitched. “You’ll have to find out.”
I hated the way he always seemed to know what was on my mind. Was my face that readable?
With nothing to lose, I sauntered into the room, my eyes staying on Cole’s. When I drew close enough, he leaned over the side of the couch and plucked a bottle from a bucket of ice. He twisted off the cap with ease, the beer hissing from the release, and handed the bottle to me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, the perspiration clinging to the bottle cooling my hand. I sat on the other couch parallel to the one he lounged on. My lips touched the glass, and I took a swig. On the coffee table between us, a spread of cheese, crackers, and sausages was arranged on a platter, bits and pieces picked over. I glanced at him over my bottle. “How old are you?”
Cole stuck an arm behind his head, angling his head toward me. “Twenty-one. You?”
Plush cushions shifted underneath me as I got comfortable. It was too nice of a couch to sit on, and I feared I would get dirt on it. “Twenty,” I repl ied. “What college do you go to?” I didn’t know what I was doing. Making small talk, I guessed, but I didn’t understand why. Did I really give a shit?
“What makes you think I’m in school?” Why did everything out of his mouth feel like a challenge?
Pretentious as fuck. No surprise.
I tried to keep the disdain from my features and failed. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “This has never happened to me.”
The awkward silence I tried to avoid descended. Cole stared at me, our eyes locking in a firelit glance too cozy for strangers. “You could eat,” he finally said, waving his beer bottle at the food on the coffee table. “Don’t worry about running out of food. The fridge and pantry are fully stocked. We won’t starve. Not unless we get stuck here for weeks.”
I pulled my legs up underneath me, leaning against the couch arm, ignoring the snacks. “You don’t suck at this. Let me guess, you were a boy scout.” My stomach chose right then to voice how hungry it suddenly was. Little bitch.
He snorted. “Does anything about me give you the impression that I live by a code of honor?”
“No,” I admitted, my throat remembering the press of his fingers. “You have two brothers.”
“Yeah. Eat,” he ordered, his brows solemn.
I plucked a piece of cheese from the platter. “And where are they? Why aren’t they here with you for the summer?”
He swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, suspicion in his gaze. “You’re asking a lot of personal questions without offering anything about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
Leaning into the cushions, he draped an arm over the back, his lips twisting. “What’s your favorite sex position?”
The glass bottle halfway to my lips halted. “Seriously? That’s what you want to know about me?”
Dangling the bottle from the end of his fingertips, he grinned. “Priorities. I don’t plan to lose.”
I went back for another piece of cheese. “This is a joke, right? ”
A log in the fire gave a loud pop before dying back down to its lulling crackle. “You can’t back out on me now, Killer.”
Swallowing the cheese, I took a long drink from my beer. “I bet you were a bully in high school.”
He flashed me a grin.
The room grew warm, but the idea of putting out the fire and losing the light made me put up with the heat. I didn’t trust myself alone in the dark with Cole Riley.
“You seem to know your way around. I’m guessing this isn’t your first time inside,” he said.
I squeezed the bottle between my knees and shrugged out of my hoodie, leaving me in a thin crop top. Cole’s eyes stayed on me the entire time, and as I discarded the sweatshirt on the floor, I felt his gaze run over me. If I stood up, he’d get a flash of my stomach. Not that it mattered. He’d already seen all of me. I had no reason to be self-conscious with him. “Confession. I break into rich asshole’s homes for fun on the weekends.”
“The sarcasm in your voice isn’t enough to make me believe there isn’t some truth to your words. I’m not judging you. I’ve done my fair share of illegal shit.” His eyes were dark and alluring.
“Why am I not shocked at all? You’ve nearly killed me twice now.”
“Your life has never been in danger,” he said.
“I hate to see what your definition of danger is.”
The firelight glinted off something on his lower lip, and I studied him unabashedly, really studied him, taking in every line and angle of his face. Why did the good-looking ones always have to be assholes?
A silver hoop winked at the corner of his bottom lip. Where had that come from? How hadn’t I noticed it before? I was staring, but I couldn't stop myself. “Did you always have your lip pierced?”
Using his tongue in a maneuver that pulled my gaze, he spun the hoop from inside his mouth. “I got it when I turned sixteen to my mother’s great disappointment.”
This was the first time he’d spoken about either of his parents. My interest ignited. “What are your parents like? Besides filthy rich.”
“Honestly, the last thing I want to talk about is them,” he said, quickly shutting down. A coldness entered into his features, and I was disapp ointed to have put it there with what seemed like a naturally curious question.
I set my empty bottle on the table. “What do you want to talk about, or would you prefer we sit in silence and listen to the rain hit the roof?”
“Do you want another?” He indicated to the beer.
Tempting, but I should keep my wits about me. “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”
His expression darkened as if I poked an open wound. “I may do a lot of questionable things. Hell, I’ve used girls, but I don’t have to force them. Ever.”
“Because you’re so charming with your handsome face, bad-boy attitude, tattoos, and pierced lip that no girl can resist you.” I wanted to lighten the mood because the harsh expression on his face made me fidget.
“Pretty much sums it up,” he replied coolly.
I snuck a piece of salami. “What’s it like to be so full of yourself?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what’s it like to be so uptight that you can’t let loose for one night? With all your responsibilities and jobs, when do you get to have fun?”
He hit a nerve, and it showed on my face. “Some of us don’t have the luxury to be free and do whatever we want when the mood strikes.”
His eyes gleamed. “That’s it. That’s what you desire. Freedom.”
I said nothing. Hated that he’d been able to read me and see deep into my soul when the rest of the world barely spared me a glimpse.
Why him?
He toyed with the bottle cap between his fingers. “You know, it’s okay to be reckless for one night. It won’t kill you.”
My throat closed at the surge of memories from the accident. “That’s where you’re wrong. It does have the power to kill.”
For a long moment, he watched me. “You’re talking about what happened to your dad.”
I pressed my lips together. Now he hit my sore spot, and I was the one who no longer wanted to talk. I grabbed the abandoned beer on the table and slammed it back. “Happy now?”
“No, not yet…but it’s a start.”
Why did he have to bring up my dad? The worry and anxiety came back l ike a tidal wave washing over me. I took another long drink, letting the feel-good buzz work its way into my system.
“What are you thinking about?”
I hadn’t noticed the silence until he asked the question. How long had I been lost in my head? My expression screwed up into a tight knot of irritation. “I’m wondering if I’m safe here with you. If you’ll rape me in my sleep.”
His scowl intensified. “If I wanted to rape you, I would have done so when I had you naked in the pool.”
“Valid point, but still doesn’t change that I’d rather die than be stuck here with you.” Using sarcasm was a safer route than the truth.
“Or…you want to kiss me, and that’s the problem,” he offered an alternative.
“Hmm,” I murmured, making it seem like I was considering it. “Not on your life.”
His laugh made my heart flip.
And that made me frown.