Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
NATALIE
A soft knock on my bedroom door wakes me up on my birthday.
I rub my eyes, still heavy with sleep. Unfortunately, shortly after I jumped Cole yesterday and murdered the Christmas tree, my period started.
It came three days early, because I swear it’s sentient and a bitch and wanted to ruin my birthday, and what would have maybe been a fun makeout session.
I had to take my serious painkillers to get the pain somewhat under control and sleep, but it’s left a groggy mess of a human in its aftermath.
The rap on my door happens again. “Natalie, dear, we thought we’d bring you your breakfast in bed so you could stay near your heating pad and be cozy. Can we come in?”
“Sure,” I mumble, pushing the drool off my cheek.
Something at the foot of my bed lets out a panicked cough.
Shit. Cole is sleeping on the floor. A very un-boyfriend-like thing to do.
He was up here last night. After we were banished from the living room, we sat in bed and watched another terribly wonderful Christmas movie.
I still wanted to try to jump his bones, but the endo was like “endo or do not, there is not try,” which was a terrible joke for the endo to make, but endo isn’t funny and makes terrible jokes like that.
Then, I faded off to sleep. He must have moved down to his bed after.
“If you could just give us a second,” I panic as the doorknob twists. “We uh—”
The twisting stops. “Take your time,” my mom says, mistaken.
“Rather it be in there then the living room again.” I don’t know what’s worse.
Letting her find Cole on the floor or her thinking my stalling is because we’re so horny that after killing the tree, we still don’t have this out of our system—especially with the powerful painkillers I was on last night.
Scuffling and scrambling sounds from below before a mussy haired, rumpled Cole stands at the edge of my bed and I pull the blanket open for him to slide in.
“How do you want me?” he asks.
Cheekily, I smile, arching a brow. He has the audacity to blush and flash a sheepish smile and heck, he’s adorable.
Even without his glasses, my body can’t hate him anymore.
“You know if you’d approached me like this years ago, I’d be wrapped around your finger by now.
” My mouth admits before my brain catches up.
“My loss,” he says. “But good to know where our future is headed.” He winks.
“Are you ready for us, birthday girl?” My mother calls.
“Just one more sec—sorry!” I holler back and pat my bed. “We’ll revisit your cheekiness later, just get into the bed.”
He slides under the covers, sitting up and hanging his arm out open for me.
“You can come in,” I say, as I go to cuddle into him, but I get trapped by the wire from my heating pad that tangled around me in my sleep and is now under Cole.
“Oh, sorry,” he shifts in the bed, while I attempt to unwrap myself with little success. Still struggling, Cole pulls on the wire, trying to free me. Not the wrapped I was aiming for between us.
The door swings open. Somehow, I end up squarely on top of him. My shirt’s loose neckline hangs down, so if Cole looks forward he’s going to see everything.
He must be vaguely aware of this because his eyes are glued on my mother entering with a tray of pancakes and orange juice. “Good morning, Mrs. D’Amore,” he says, his voice strained.
“All is forgiven with the tree, Cole. Gary offered to take me to a Christmas store in Kennebunk that I’ve always wanted to shop at.
So don’t look so guilty. If you haven’t caught on yet, we’re very laissez-faire with Natalie and her boyfriends in this house.
Would be quite hypocritical of us if we weren’t, wouldn’t it be, honey?
” My mom glances over her shoulder at my dad.
My dad doesn’t look like he quite agrees, but he keeps quiet.
I try to roll back to the bed. The wires don’t budge and I accept that I’m bound to Cole in a way that is neither sexy nor fun.
My mom lingers at the foot, like she’s waiting for me to detach myself, but it’s impossible unless Cole rolls me over, so I lay on him like a fool. “Need a few more minutes of snuggle time,” I awkwardly laugh.
“Take your time, I’ll just leave this tray over here. Cole when you’re ready, I’ve got everything you asked for out in the living room.”
“Thank you, Mrs. D’Amore,” Cole says while I ask, “What did you ask her to get?”
“Mind your business.” My mom chides.
“This sounds like my business.” I retort. Still pressed up against Cole. Nervous flutters terrorize my abdomen.
Suddenly his hand falls to my back, and he rubs it with a soothing rhythm.
“Be a good girl and listen to your mama,” he teases with a wink.
Something about him saying “good girl” while I’m in this position does terribly wonderful things to me and heat rushes between my thighs. Which apparently is a terribly bad thing to happen during my period because oh my mother of god.
“Okay,” I manage through a giant stabbing sensation. Something wet hits my thighs but I don’t think too much about it with everything else happening. “I’ll be a good girl as long as I can have my painkillers and my heating pad.”
My mom smiles at me. “Of course, dear. I’ll be back to bring Cole’s breakfast in too.”
“Oh, I can get it, Mrs. D’Amore, if you’ll give us a second. Natalie’s heating pad went all boa constrictor on us last night with all her snuggling. Didn’t it, sugarplum?”
“Mmhmm,” I squeak. Another stab, another pain. I fight the urge to writhe on top of Cole. I’m scared of leaking since I haven’t changed my pad in—oh my god.
Something warm pools on my thigh.
And Cole’s.
Mercifully, my mom leaves. I try to get off, but I’m still stuck and still bleeding. In a panic, I wiggle more and more, and all I get is more tangled.
Finally, with a calming shhh Cole grabs me and turns me, so my back is on the bed, and he’s on top of me.
“I’m so sorry.” I am on the verge of tears. My face is red. “I’ll buy you new pants. A new leg. I can’t believe I did that.”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Natalie, really, it’s fine.” He wipes the hair off my forehead and presses a kiss there.
“I bled on you!” I blurt.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he says with a tiny smile. “Plus, I was overdue for another incident. I had been riding on one good, bloody day with that nickname for years.”
Slowly, he bows under the wire, and gets out of the bed.
That’s when everything he says clicks and again, my voice rises an octave. “You got that nickname because of me?”