Chapter 10
Cole
Cole barely had a second to think before he was being kissed—really kissed—by the last person he ever expected to be kissing with such passionate abandon.
And fuck, it felt good.
Once they were over their hesitation, the movements of Travis’s tongue shifted from slow and exploratory to powerful and masculine. He kissed like he’d fought this with everything in him and lost spectacularly and now he was free-falling.
His big hands gripped Cole’s hair, tugging just enough to send a thrill sparking down his spine. The heat of his body pressed closer, solid muscle and pure, crackling tension pinning Cole in place, but he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to stop.
Despite all of his logical protestations, he let himself have this.
Let himself enjoy this beautiful moment with this dumb, straight jock.
Travis was here, present, choosing this. Choosing him.
Cole groaned against his lips, fingers digging into Travis’s shirt, fisting it like he could keep him there forever. He didn’t know what he’d expected from letting this walking protein shake kiss him, but this was not it.
Travis’s lips were firm, masculine, and powerful.
Almost too much, but Cole loved it. Loved the way they moved over his, unsure at first, then greedy, like Travis was discovering this in real-time and couldn’t get enough.
A slow burn that went nuclear the second Cole parted his lips just enough for Travis to taste him.
And Travis fucking growled.
It sent a shiver straight down Cole’s spine, and he started falling alongside Travis.
Travis was everywhere.
His heat, his weight, and the sheer mass of all his muscle pressed in like gravity itself had shifted and was dragging Cole deeper, making it impossible to do anything but feel.
The rough scrape of stubble against his jaw sent a delicious shock through his entire body.
Travis kissed like someone who wanted to, like every move of his tongue was a new discovery like he was learning Cole by touch alone.
And fuck, Cole could feel him. The solid press of his hardness was coming to life through his pants. Swelling and pressing into him with such urgency.
Cole relished the sting as Travis took hold of his hair. He adored the way Travis’s broad, unshakable chest smothered him. Travis’s muscles tensed and flexed with every shift of their bodies. Cole hated that he loved the tough press of his brawn so much.
The taste of Travis was all heat and want. Masculine, intoxicating, with a bitter hint of morning coffee.
Cole let out a soft, involuntary sound against his lips, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and Travis reacted. His grip tightening, his breath coming harder, his body pressing closer.
Cole was being owned.
Like he was being devoured, claimed like Travis was putting everything he couldn’t say into this kiss, into the way he was taking him instead of hesitating. His hardness started to feed Cole’s arousal, and the heat between them built higher and higher.
Cole could barely think past his hard-on. Blood was leaving his brain and his skin was buzzing, his whole body was alive with sensation and he could feel that Travis was feeling it too.
The worst part was that he wanted more.
Cole’s skin was burning, nerves alight like they already knew where this was going.
There was a deep, unmistakable ache unfurling in his stomach, spreading lower, as their two hard rods rubbed together through their pants. Arousal threatened to steal his logical mind. He wanted the pleasure to sweep him up, but his last thread of self-defense kicked in.
And just like that, he retreated as his brain took control of his body once again.
Cole stiffened, he pulled back and took a long, shocked look at Travis.
The moment shattered around him like glass.
Shit. Shit.
He took a small step back to try to catch his breath.
His body locked up, a sharp inhale breaking the rhythm between them.
He wasn’t supposed to let this happen. He wasn’t supposed to let himself want this.
Not with Travis. Because he knew that the second he wanted it, the second he let himself believe in the straight guy—that’s when it would hurt.
That’s when he’d get burned.
And Travis would leave him high and dry or push him away in disgust like he did in the factory.
Just like they always did.
Cole pressed a hand against Travis’s chest, a firm push this time, not pulling, but stopping.
“Wait…”
His voice came out rough, barely a breath between them.
And Travis stilled immediately.
Cole took another shaky step back, then another, dragging in a breath that didn’t seem to reach his lungs.
His chest felt restricted from the wild hammering in his chest. He swiped a hand over his mouth as if that would erase the last thirty seconds that had felt like a blissful eternity.
All that heat, hunger, and the way Travis had felt against him.
Fuck…
He scrambled to form a sentence, but nothing came out. Just panic, surging like a wave from old wounds.
“Fuck… I—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Travis stood frozen in front of him, breathing hard, lips swollen, face wrecked. He looked like he’d just been hit by a truck, like he wasn’t even sure what had happened and the longer he looked at Cole the more pained his expression became.
Travis’s expression shifted. The heat in his eyes dimmed, slowly becoming cold and unreadable. His whole body tensed so hard Cole could see him tremble like he was bracing for impact.
Cole had seen this before.
Fear.
Confusion.
Guilt.
Regret.
Travis’s reaction stabbed him like a cold blade straight to the ribs and he instantly regretted ever giving in to his own stupid fantasies.
Here it comes.
The regret.
Cole’s stomach dropped. He sighed. He’d known this would happen. Of course it would happen. Dumb straight boys couldn’t be trusted.
“Cole…”
His name came out strangled. Travis—the bastion of self-control—looked like a cold train wreck.
Cole knew what was coming next. He didn’t need to hear it.
He forced out a sharp, bitter laugh before Travis could say anything else. Before he could hear the words that would fucking ruin him.
“Don’t,” Cole said, voice sharp, almost angry. He took another step back, arms crossing over his chest, shoving everything down, locking it all up. “Just don’t.”
Travis’s throat bobbed, his hands twitching in and out of fists, his whole body getting more rigid with each second. He was locking up, shutting down, retreating back behind his walls. Cole read it as hesitation. Indecision. Regret.
“Cole… please…”
Cole couldn’t believe how weak Travis sounded. How exposed and vulnerable.
It made hot anger twist sharply in his chest.
Cole let out a breathless, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, man. I’ve heard this one before.” He let his words carry the full weight of his anger, aiming them, weaponizing them.
Travis flinched.
Good.
Cole pushed on, voice harsh, a knife meant to wound before he ended up getting hurt. “Let me guess… it didn’t mean anything? Because you’re not actually like that?” His chest heaved, fury and hurt tangled together in such a mess that he couldn’t separate them.
Then it snapped.
All the pain, all the frustration—every ounce of anger that was really just fear—came pouring out of him.
“Or should we just skip right to the part where you say kissing me was a fucking mistake?”
Travis tried to keep his face straight, but it quivered. He shook his head, eyes dark with an emotion Cole refused to read. “That’s not…”
“I know!” Cole’s voice cracked. He hadn’t meant for it to. He hadn’t. But suddenly, his throat was closing up, and—fuck—were those tears rolling down his cheeks?
His next words came out mocking and raw. “I know you’re not like that.”
Vulnerability consumed Travis's expression. For a few seconds, his emotions were carved into every hard line of his face, laid bare, before he sucked in a slow breath and shut it all down.
He shut Cole out.
The shift was physical. A deep breath, a slow blink, and then his face tensed like he could squeeze the emotion out of himself.
But Cole saw the pain.
Saw the war happening behind those blue eyes.
And he would not let that war spill over into his heart.
Cole sniffled hard, his chest caving under the weight of it all. “I get it…” he whispered, voice cracking as tears finally spilled over. “I fucking get it.”
Travis took another step back. His throat bobbed, lips parting like he wanted to say something. Like he needed to.
But the words never came.
Instead, he turned. Striding toward the door like he couldn’t get out fast enough.
And then—
SLAM.
Silence.
◆◆◆
Cole was normally pretty good at sitting still on his laptop, but that was impossible right now. The morning had stretched on into early afternoon and he’d paced the apartment more times than he dared to count. The ghost of Travis’s touch wouldn’t leave him no matter how hard he tried.
Cole had stopped crying a few hours ago. Now he was just running around in empty exhausted circles.
He’d tried to focus on the mission, but every time he opened his laptop, his mind raced back to Travis. He would try to look at the Whitaker gang’s code but his brain refused to cooperate. Facts just slipped by him like sand through his fingers.
He pulled out his phone again. Stared at it.
Don’t.
His thumb hovered over Travis’s contact anyway.
Then he hit dial, again.
The line rang. And rang. And—
Voicemail.
Fine. Fucking fine.
He wasn’t angry. Not at Travis. Not really.
He was angry at himself.
For letting himself hope. For falling for the same goddamn mistake, again and again, like some pathetic idiot who hadn’t already learned what happened when you trusted someone who couldn’t be trusted.
He knew better.
But still—
No matter how hard he tried to shove the moment away, it clung to him. Travis’s hands gripping his shirt, the raw desperation in the way he kissed him, the wrecked sound in his throat like he was falling apart right there in Cole’s arms.
And worst of all was that he remembered the way Travis had looked at him.
Right before he ran.
Like maybe...
Cole swallowed hard, shaking his head. No. No, don’t do this. Don’t believe in something that isn’t real.
His thoughts were spiraling, fingers fidgeting nervously when his phone vibrated against his leg. He snatched it out of his pocket.
It was Harris.
He exhaled sharply, the weight of the entire situation was even more intense now. Travis wasn’t just not returning his calls, he was missing in action while undercover, he should have reported this to HQ hours ago.
In their line of work, radio silences spelled trouble. All this time Cole had been brooding, Travis could well have been in danger and it would be a hell of a lot more than just the operation on the line.
Then he thought about Travis in a body bag and his whole body shuddered. He let out a breathless gasp. His hand trembled as he scrambled internally to think of what to say to Harris, how to explain that he hadn’t reported that his partner—his fake boyfriend—was missing.
He tapped the encrypted line. “Commander?”
Harris’s voice came through, clipped and urgent.
“Denton’s on the move, on his way to meet Ashford.
I can’t reach McAllister. We need you both there now.
I have a team getting ready at HQ, but you’re much closer.
I’m sending you the coordinates now. This could be the biggest break in this whole case. ”
Cole’s stomach lurched, the mission slamming back into him like a cold slap to the face.
His brain almost clicked into place. He needed to focus. Work. This was serious.
“Where’s McAllister?” Harris ordered.
Cole gulped silently. His eyes darted toward the door as if Travis might walk back in. He closed his eyes and tried to summon his genius brain. He saw a thousand amazing stories spin out in his head.
“Steele?” Harris barked, his patience clearly being tested.
“He’s on the can,” Cole said quickly. “We’ll meet you at the rendezvous.”
There was a pause—Harris hesitating, maybe—but then: “Copy that.” The line cut.
Cole stood there for a second, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles ached. Where the hell had Travis gone and why had he lied for him? If anything went wrong his ass would be in serious trouble now.
His thumb hovered over Travis’s contact again. He swallowed hard, then tapped out a message before he could overthink it.
Denton’s on the move. Harris needs us both there. Rendezvous at this location.
No where the hell are you, no get your ass in gear. Just the facts. Straightforward. Professional. Then doubt crept in, what if Travis didn’t read it?
What if Travis never came back?What if Travis was…
He stared at the screen for a second longer than he should have, trying to process all these things, and then he locked the phone and shoved it into his pocket.
That was all he could do. But now that he’d lied about Travis’s whereabouts, every minute that he didn’t report the truth to Harris was only compounding the trouble that was waiting for him.
Cole grabbed the van keys from the table, clenching the metal as he made his way to the door.
It wasn’t the mission that felt off.
It was this. Heading out on the mission without Travis at his side.
He’d worked alone as a hacker for years, but going into the field was different. This wasn’t what he usually did, it was like stepping into a fight without a weapon, naked and exposed. Because he could handle himself, but Travis had kept him safe.
But he didn’t stop.
Didn’t look back.
He headed to the underground parking and climbed into the van, started the engine, and pulled out onto the road.
He told himself Travis would come. But he wasn’t sure if he really believed it.
Part 2 drops on April 23, 2025. I hope you're ready!