Chapter 18
The blanket smelled like him. My first thought, before I’d even opened my eyes, was about Cole. I’d gotten used to the habit since I woke up thinking about him most mornings, but I wasn’t dreaming this time.
I was soft and comfortable and warm. None of those words described the twin bed I’d been trying to sleep in for the past few weeks. A strange weight on my hip and pressure against my back slowly seeped into my awareness.
My groggy brain finally caught up to the rest of me, and my eyes shot open. Cole. I was lying on Cole. Shit. I tensed, preparing to fling myself away from him, but sanity prevailed at the last second.
He was sleeping. The steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek and the gentle movement of his breath in my hair kept me still.
My muscles were all languid and floppy like I’d been at a spa all night. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been as relaxed as I’d been ten seconds ago. I didn’t remember him coming back last night, but clearly, at some point I’d fallen asleep. Then at some later point, he’d also fallen asleep. In the same bed. Mostly naked.
He wasn’t all the way naked because I had one leg hooked over his hip, and I could feel cotton under my thigh. Heat tore through me as I realized what else I could feel. Cole was hard underneath me. I eased my leg away, trying not to jostle him, and took stock of the rest of my limbs.
One arm tucked between us, one resting on his chest with his hand wrapped around mine. I was mostly on top of him, curled around his ribcage with my head on his shoulder, and he held me in place with an arm around my waist. His hand splayed over my bare ass.
Had I known how I’d wake up, I would have put more of an effort into finding my panties last night.
The flickers of outrage tried to take root, but I couldn’t fault Cole for wanting to sleep in his own bed. I couldn’t fault him for asking me to stay and keep his sweet duck company. I couldn’t fault him for my choice to eschew my jeans and crawl between his sheets. This decision was all on me.
Sunlight flooded the room. Not the pale pre-dawn stuff either. Full on morning sunlight. I’d spent the night with Cole, after he’d given me the best orgasms of my life then peaced out.
Low-key panic started to build into legit fight or flight. I needed to move. I couldn’t let Cole wake up and see us cuddled together like a normal, functioning couple—even if the image was stuck in the back of my mind taunting me with the possibilities.
Carefully, I sat up, letting his arm drop to the mattress. With slow movements, I scooted to the edge of the bed and climbed down. I’d done a cursory search for my clothes last night after I’d washed my face, but I’d quickly given up. After Cole’s enthusiastic performance, I didn’t think he’d mind if I napped commando in his bed.
With the full light of day, I found my pants easily enough, but my undies were still missing. Where the fuck were they? I got on my hands and knees, searching Cole’s floor. My pants had been crumpled in an inside out heap next to the door, but my panties hadn’t been anywhere near them last night.
I peeked at Cole, asleep on his back with his impressive chest and shoulders on display above the messy blankets. Nothing but bare golden skin all the way down to the sheet. How was he so tan in the middle of winter?
His back muscles flexed as he rolled, reaching for the place I’d been laying, and I watched transfixed. He’d given me several fantastic orgasms last night, he’d basically seen me naked considering the disarray of my shirt when he’d left, and the urge to join him again twisted inside me.
I could hit the bathroom and dive back under the covers, curl up with his arms around me. Sleep. I could sleep, without all the bullshit from the past few months haunting me because last night had been glorious.
Cole made a deep, rumbling noise, and I bit my lip to keep from moaning at the instant clench of my inner muscles. Damn. One night and I was one of Pavlov’s dogs. See, this was why my deal with Cole was a bad idea.
I’d gotten what I wanted, and I was already addicted. Cole mumbled something, and I left before I made another destructive decision. I steeled myself against the temptation and pulled my pants on without underwear. Cole could keep them as a souvenir.
He would hate my decision, but I wouldn’t be back. No more orgasms or reading snuggled together on the couch. We could meet at the library like any other tutoring session. He’d still get his end of the deal, and I’d be able to rebuild my walls.
Nothing about the current situation said casual, and I couldn’t handle another force trying to control my life. Not so soon after I’d finally freed myself. I didn’t think about his roommates or what it would look like with me sneaking out of his room, but thankfully, the hallway was empty.
My luck held as I tiptoed down the stairs. No one on the main floor either. I scooped up my shoes and jogged to my car in my socks. Mrs. Lipnicki must have had a late night as well because her house was just as quiet as Cole’s.
The drive home was short, but I spent the entire time coming up with a series of excuses for where I’d been. Mom would have claimed I was being inconsiderate to her for staying out all night, as if she’d been worried. More likely she wanted my attention for something, and I wasn’t conveniently in my room. The scenario had played out more than once.
Dad was a wild card. In the couple of weeks I’d been living with him, we hadn’t spent much time together. My preparations were wasted though. Dad’s car was gone when I pulled into the driveway.
My relief mixed with disappointment, which made no sense. Why would I be disappointed he hadn’t been home to interrogate me? I already knew my welfare wasn’t high on his priority list.
I tossed my bag on the couch and raided the fridge for a snack. Only once I’d eaten and taken a shower did I let myself think about Cole and the events of last night—of my decision. I’d wanted to stay. Even before he’d asked, I’d wanted to stay.
This morning, the feeling had been a hundred times stronger. I sat cross-legged on my bed with my computer in my lap and tried to untangle the mess of my emotions. Scott, and the couple of boyfriends before him, had never elicited the tug at the center of my chest I felt when I watched Cole reach for me.
He was the one I wanted to call when I had a good day and the one I wanted to text when I was lonely at night. When Marco made a joke in the office, Cole was the one I wanted to share it with.
Fuck. I was already in too deep.
To remind myself what happened when I let my guard down, I pulled up the article I’d written exposing Scott’s cheating, both academic and sexual. It was some of my best work, and part of me was pissed I’d had to submit it with an anonymous byline. As far as I knew, my mom had gotten off without so much as a slap on the wrist. The university didn’t give a shit who was fucking who, but they cared a great deal when someone was passing off stolen work in their classes.
No going back. No showing weakness. I was going to put Easton behind me and finish my degree at TU without letting a sexy, charming hockey player distract me from my goals. I’d already submitted my first couple of articles to Seb, but I was holding one in reserve.
With a few clicks, I pulled up the outline I’d started the day I’d learned about the open editor spot next year. The article sketched an image of a hockey coach who cared about winning at any cost, including skirting the academic standards for his players.
And abandoning his daughter.
I sat with my fingers poised over the keys, but no words came. An image of him talking to Marco with kindness and respect lodged in my mind and refused to budge. Seb would love a juicy exposé, but I wasn’t a tabloid reporter. Disgusted, I closed my laptop and set it aside.
The front door slammed closed downstairs, and I seriously considered simply going back to bed. Except my bed wasn’t the one I wanted. If I was smart, I’d call Marco and convince him to come and distract me from my own destructive tendencies.
I picked up my phone, but before I could send out an SOS, Dad knocked on my door. When I opened it, he held up a white bag with big grease stains on the side.
“Biscuit sandwiches from Pancake Shack.”
I eyed the bag with suspicion. “That place by the empty strip mall?”
“That’s the one,” he grunted. “Come eat breakfast with me.”
It wasn’t phrased as a request. I’d normally decline the chance to spend time with him, but the scent of bacon and carbs was slowly wafting into my room.
“Okay.”
He nodded once and headed toward the stairs without looking back. I pursed my lips and followed at a slower pace, carrying my phone. Marco was only a text message away if I needed a second escape this morning.
Dad set the bag on the dining table and gathered plates from the kitchen.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, perching at the edge of my usual chair.
He waited until he’d returned and taken his seat to respond. “I wanted to talk to you about Christmas.”
“Christmas?” I repeated.
“Are you planning to spend the day with your mom?” He glanced at me as he set a paper-wrapped sandwich on both plates.
A laugh burst out of me. “No. Those bridges are smoldering ashes.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I haven’t done much the last few years, but I thought we could pull the tree out, maybe put up some decorations. I bought a ham.”
Shock stole my appetite. “You want to decorate for Christmas?”
“With you,” he added around a mouthful of biscuit.
Today couldn’t get any stranger. Not only had he not mentioned my disappearance last night, but he wanted to do a family bonding thing? What the hell was happening? No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t see the manipulation. To top if off, a faint flush crept up his ears as if he were embarrassed by his offer.
I tilted my head, studying him. “Why?”
He cleared his throat. “I missed a lot of years with you.”
As usual, his explanation didn’t explain much. Christmas was in two days, and I hadn’t planned to do anything except watch cheesy Hallmark movies. The newspaper offices were closed along with the rest of campus, and as of this morning, I was putting some distance between me and Cole. I should probably tell him that.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “We can decorate your tree.”
He nodded again and went back to his sandwich. Truly, a thrilling conversation. I took a bite without thinking, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. Holy crap, Dad had good taste in breakfast sandwiches. Once again, I should probably tell him that.
“This is good, thanks.”
The flush returned, and he offered me a rare smile. It felt like someone hit me in the chest with a pillowcase full of bricks. I hated how much his approval still affected me. Twelve years should have been long enough to stifle the need, but here I was with the burn of tears in the back of my eyes. My therapist was going to love this.
We ate in relative silence until my phone buzzed with a message. Dad glanced at it, but didn’t comment. It was either Cole or Marco, and I’d only snuck out on one of them this morning. I prayed the heat I felt in my cheeks wasn’t obvious to my dad, but his brows rose like he could read my mind.
“How’s the tutoring going?”
“Fine. Cole is really intelligent, and honestly, he could do this without my help. He just needed someone to show him a different way to study.” I was rambling because I didn’t want to check the message with Dad staring at me. “We’re about a quarter of the way through his assignments for the class.”
“It was nice of Melanie to give him the work early.”
I jolted at his first name basis with Cole’s professor, but of course, he’d been coaching at TU for years. He’d know the faculty, especially the ones his players interacted with. My reporter senses were tingling with the urge to ask more questions, but another message came through.
“Go ahead and check it. I don’t mind.”
Without a good reason not to, I picked up my phone and braced myself for whatever nonsense Cole had sent. Only it wasn’t Cole.
Unknown number: I know you’re hooking up with that hockey player. How long?
Unknown number: How long, Avery?
Fucking Scott. I set my phone facedown on the table and schooled my face. Not well enough, though, because Dad was scowling at it.
“Who was that?”
“Someone from Easton.”
“The reason you left?”
I didn’t answer him, which seemed to be answer enough. He stretched for my phone, but I snatched it out of his reach.
“I’m handling it.”
He glowered at the phone. I thought he’d try again, but he backed off and gathered our plates. I relaxed, expecting him to disappear into the kitchen without another word. Instead, he stopped and met my eyes.
“You don’t have to handle it alone.”
“It’s easier this way,” I said quietly.
“No, it’s not,” he disputed, leaving me alone clutching my phone.
I blew out a breath. It was easier, but I wasn’t handling it. So far, I’d ignored all of Scott’s messages, but they’d gotten increasingly specific. Alarmingly so. How did he know about Cole? There was the chance Tobias Kane had said something, but they hadn’t really moved in the same circles while I’d been dating Scott. I was unknown enough at Easton there wouldn’t be gossip about me, even after the drama with him and my mom broke.
I’d purposely left my name out of the article and focused on the professor aspect of his affair. There was no mention he’d been cheating on his girlfriend while he was fucking the faculty.
What did it matter if I was hooking up with Cole? He didn’t get the right to question my fidelity with his track record. I pulled up my messaging app, intending to send him a scathing cease and desist, but another message came through before I could get more than “fuck you” typed.
This time, it was Cole.
Cole: Thanks for last night.
Thank goodness Dad wasn’t around because my face absolutely flamed. He probably wasn’t talking about the orgasms. Most likely, he was thanking me for duck-sitting while he rescued his roommate, though I hadn’t seen Henry during my escape. And I had no idea how Cole’s night had ended. He’d come home, so I assumed no one was in jail.
My first urge was to ignore the text, but he didn’t deserve me ghosting him, especially since I still intended to help him with his lit class. I bit my lip as I considered. If I came out and told him right away I needed distance, he’d assume I was running. Maybe I could thread the needle between silence and verbal diarrhea.
Me: You’re welcome.
Simple and to the point. No drama or messy feelings necessary. I should have known Cole wouldn’t leave it there.
Cole: You going to tell me why you’re not in my bed this morning?
Me: I told you I had to get home.
Cole: You stayed.
I wanted to tell him it was nothing, but I couldn’t make myself type out the lie.
Me: Yes. I told you I’d do that too.
Cole: I want you to stay again.
The same tug I’d felt in his bedroom became a rip tide, threatening to drown me. I dropped my head to the table and let out a quiet whimper. Why did I have to approach him that day in the library? Even then, I couldn’t resist him. I needed an out, but I didn’t have one.
Me: I can’t. I’m actually pretty busy until classes start. Maybe you could meet me at the library for the next couple of tutoring sessions?
Cole: If that’s what you need.
I didn’t lie. The newspaper schedule between Christmas and the beginning of the semester was crazy. Most of the other staff writers were on vacation, so Marco and I were taking up the slack. The truth didn’t stop me from feeling like a fraud—and it definitely didn’t stop the fist from squeezing my heart.