Chapter 20
Ikept forgetting Christmas was almost here. Honestly, I’d almost rather forget it. I hadn’t spent a holiday with Dad in twelve years, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with him. After he got back from practice on Christmas Eve, he’d dragged a raggedy old fake tree out of the attic, already strung with lights.
We spent a couple of hours hanging a bunch of handmade ornaments next to a collection of generic shiny balls. I’d snuck a closer look when he went into the kitchen to make popcorn and was surprised to find my name scrawled across the backs of all of them in faded ink.
When he’d been setting up the tree, he hadn’t said a word to me, but each of the ornaments I’d made as a kid were carefully placed in prime positions front and center. I didn’t get it. Why save these keepsakes when he didn’t want the person who’d made them?
The evening was… nice. We worked in tandem without any stiffness, and when Marco texted me to come hang out with him and his girlfriend, I politely declined without a hint of remorse. I expected a lecture or a token effort before he found something he’d rather be doing, but Dad managed an entire conversation where he listened to what I said.
It was about the weather, but he was trying.
All in all, I woke up on Christmas morning with a sense of excitement I hadn’t had since I was eight. Not for the presents—for another whole day of trying. The only sore point was Cole. He’d stopped messaging me around the time Dad had left for practice yesterday. I’d figured he’d start up again as soon as he was done, but he’d gone silent where my dad had suddenly become vocal.
Since it was only us today, I dressed in my favorite yoga pants, cropped sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks. Part of me was hoping if I went into the day comfortable it would work some magic on making Dad approachable too.
Mom’s Christmas brunch and cocktail party always meant I’d spend the day using my clothes as armor, though never quite fancy enough as far as she was concerned. Good riddance. I’d take the apathetic parent over the narcissistic one any day. At least I was the one making the choice.
My phone sat on the counter next to my stuff in the bathroom, and I checked it at least three times while I brushed my teeth. No messages. No teasing pics. No wicked smile over a mostly naked torso.
Before I’d woken up with him wrapped around me, we’d texted or talked every day. Usually Cole sent me silly questions, then pestered me with increasingly horrific answers until I responded. I rinsed my mouth and pulled up the pic Cole had sent when I’d teased him about sleeping in a onesie.
Cole: What do you think?
He’d angled the camera to catch his smile, his naked chest, and the faint line of hair disappearing past the bottom edge of the picture. Another inch and I’d have gotten an eyeful of the hard length I’d felt the other night. Not a dick pic, but it might as well have been with my imagination going wild.
We’d danced on the edge of the line that night, then I’d flung myself over it the next time I saw him. Was I foolish for pushing him away? My stomach clenched at the thought of him deciding my back and forth wasn’t worth it and moving on with his life.
I pulled my hair off my face in a simple ponytail and picked up my red lipstick. The bold color was my last line of defense, and I felt naked without the weight of it on my face. With a shaky breath, I set the tube back down in my makeup case.
Not everything was about Cole.
I pasted on a smile—a naked smile—as I headed down the stairs. Dad had made an effort yesterday. I wasn’t ready to trust him yet, but I could refrain from my usual brooding and sarcasm until I had a reason to pull it out.
The smell of roasting meat made my mouth water, and I hoped he wasn’t expecting me to help with preparations. My entire experience cooking came from a life skills class I’d been forced to take in high school. I could handle scrambled eggs and anything in a microwavable package.
Dad was in the kitchen, not surprising since I’d slept in until after ten. He glanced my way when I stopped in the archway, but he didn’t stop chopping some green vegetable.
“Morning,” he said. “Coffee’s ready.”
I said a silent prayer of thanks and poured myself a cup. If we were about to return to the stilted awkwardness of the previous days, at least I’d be caffeinated. He didn’t say anything else as I took stock of the room.
Something bubbled on the stove, several bowls containing mashed potatoes and mac and cheese were already on the table, and a small casserole dish sat on the counter with a cloth napkin over it. I hadn’t been aware Dad owned cloth napkins. The strangeness piqued my curiosity, and I lifted the edge of the cloth.
“Rolls,” he grunted. “Can’t have Christmas brunch without rolls.”
I looked around at all the food and took a slow sip of my coffee. “How many people were you planning to invite to brunch?”
I’d meant the question to be teasing, but his shoulders hunched like I’d made a biting criticism. He finished chopping what I now saw were green onions and dumped them in the pot on the stove.
Instead of answering me, he went to the cabinet and pulled out three plates. “Here. Set the table, will you?”
I stared down at the stoneware, wondering if he’d finally succumbed to all the blunt force trauma he’d experienced during his years with Boston. When I tried to hand back a plate, he shook his head.
“I invited Cole.”
All my warm, cozy feelings vanished, replaced by panic and a hot flash of lust. “You did what?”
“I invited Cole. He’s close with his family, and he couldn’t make it home this year. I figured you wouldn’t mind since you’ve been spending so much time with him for the tutoring.”
Heat filled my cheeks, and I was supremely glad he hadn’t turned away from his mystery food to talk to my face. I couldn’t say the words circling in my head. No. Hell no. What the fuck?
After waking up in Cole’s bed with him curled around me, I couldn’t handle the domestic farce of a family Christmas. It was a miracle Dad hadn’t noticed I’d spent the night there. He’d assumed I’d come home then gone back for a morning session.
Honestly, his impulse surprised me. Dad wasn’t the thoughtful type. Or at least, I hadn’t believed so.
I cleared my throat, carefully setting the plates on the table. “That was nice of you.”
“He’s a good boy. Doesn’t need to be alone when we have plenty of space here.”
His words arrowed into me. They were the same ones my mom used to say about Scott. Such a good boy. I shuddered as I remembered the way she looked at him. Had he looked back?
The doorbell rang before I could dive too deep into my own personal hell, and Dad waved me off. “Go get that, would you? This gravy needs constant stirring.”
Caught between my fucked up past and my bizarre present, I must have looked crazed when I opened the door. Cole took one look at my face and shook his head with a quiet laugh.
“I take it he didn’t tell you?”
I crossed my arms and cocked a hip. “I found out five minutes ago.”
“I can leave if you don’t want me here.” He tried to appear nonchalant, but I saw the way his jaw ticked.
Cole expected me to send him packing. It would be the smart thing to do considering I’d spent a good portion of the morning ogling a picture of his naked torso. Then again, with my dad as a chaperone, I couldn’t very well hit my knees in front of Cole begging for a repeat. As long as we stayed in the public areas of the house, I could indulge in the warmth of his company without risking a backslide.
I glanced past him down the front walk, despite knowing Dad had only invited him. Sometimes these guys traveled in packs. “Where are your roommates?”
Cole grinned when I didn’t immediately tell him to leave. “Reese is sleeping off his latest conquest, Mase is planted on the couch with a new game, and from the noises coming out of Gavin and Eva’s room, they’re busy with each other.”
“Just us then, huh?” My voice came out huskier than I intended, and Cole’s eyes sharpened on my mouth.
“And your dad.”
“And my dad.” I suddenly remembered I hadn’t put on lipstick. Usually, I’d rush upstairs to armor up, but I was determined to try to relax today. Besides, he’d seen me without makeup before. The night he’d crawled into bed next to me.
“I finished my assignment. Started the next one.”
“Good.” The tightness in my throat prevented me from saying anything else. My nipples were hard beneath the soft cotton of my bra, and if he so much as brushed a finger along my skin, I might combust.
Cole tempted fate by reaching for my hand and bringing my fingers to his lips. “I’m happy to meet you in the library for our tutoring sessions, but I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist. Are you going to be able to keep quiet when it’s my turn—or am I going to have to do it?”
My eyes fluttered shut at the image of Cole between my thighs, his hand over my mouth, sliding in and out of my wet heat while holding me against the shelves. It was a particular fantasy of mine—the hushed moans and whimpers, the musty smell of old books mixed with the guttural scent of sex, the risk of getting caught at any moment.
Now I’d never be able to picture it without Cole. Maybe the library wasn’t a great idea after all.
When I opened my eyes, he was directly in front of me, and the heat in his gaze said he knew exactly what I’d been imagining. Cole moved closer, and I retreated without thinking, bracing my back against the doorframe. His lips twitched with amusement as he followed me onto the stoop. A slow, deliberate chase.
“What’s the matter? A little too real for you? A little too tempting? If the library’s not to your liking, tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen. Use your words, city girl.”
My spine straightened at the challenge. He knew I’d panicked. Of course, he knew. I pushed away from the wall and yanked my hand free. If he was banking on me backing down instead of verbalizing my fears, he’d chosen the wrong strategy.
“We can’t keep doing this.”
Cole’s dark eyes bored into me, then he nodded. “You want to end the deal?”
Frustration tightened my jaw. “No. I’m not going to abandon you after I said I’d help, but I can’t keep going back and forth between Cole the charming student and Cole the sex god.”
He raised a brow. “Sex god?”
“Don’t act like you’re not well aware of your advanced skill level.”
“I don’t see the problem. You sounded like you needed a sex god.”
“It’s not the sex god part, Cole. It’s the talking every day and the missing you and the spending the night sleeping next to you.”
His face softened. “You missed me?”
“I don’t want to miss you. We’re not even in the house yet, and I’m ready to tear your clothes off. I was the fool in a relationship for two years because I couldn’t separate ownership from love, and one night with you throws me right back to being that needy girl. Can’t I just enjoy the freedom I earned to explore my body without getting my emotions trampled again?”
A flicker of understanding lit his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”
No. I couldn’t deal with him being kind. Sexy, aggressive Cole was one thing, but his kindness cut right to my heart every time. I needed him to understand the threat he represented.
“With you, it does. Cole, I am terrified of letting you get any closer. I don’t have enough data to say if it’s a singular event or if I’d react this way to fucking any hot hockey player. Maybe I shouldn’t shut them down quite so fast in the future.”
All the softness disappeared in a blink. “The only hockey player you’re fucking is me. You need a release? You want to test out your newfound freedom? Use me.”
“That’s the opposite of what I’m suggesting, Cole.”
“Is it? You trust me, you know I can deliver, and you’ve made it very clear you’re not interested in a relationship. No chance of trampling your emotions if we both know exactly where this is going. I won’t hurt you, but I will destroy any guy who touches you.”
The intensity in his words squeezed my chest until I had to suck in a shallow breath. “Our deal?—”
“Remains intact,” he interrupted. “But we’re not limiting the orgasms to finishing an assignment, and we’re making this an exclusive agreement. What do you want, Avery?”
Him. I wanted him. And he was giving me everything I needed as long as I could keep my emotions in check. Could I do that? My track record wasn’t great, but I’d spent my life keeping my reactions locked down. How much harder could this be?
I’d wanted to grow into a person who didn’t flinch at the thought of sex. Cole could help with that. In spades. The rest was on me.
Before I could answer, Dad called my name from inside the house. He broke the spell that had been weaving between us, but the tension didn’t lessen. Cole took a final step, putting us inches from each other when I didn’t move back.
“Want to know a secret?” he asked quietly.
I gave a tiny nod, unable to help myself.
He tilted down, close to my ear, and his voice dropped. “All I’ll be thinking about eating during the meal is you.”
My inner muscles clenched at the rough promise and the knowing smirk he gave me as he moved past me into the house. I’d started this. The day in the library. I could have walked out, but no, I’d had to satisfy my suspicion that he couldn’t possibly live up to his hype.
Stupid. Cole’s hype had nothing on the real thing.
I closed the door and told myself to wait—give his idea time to settle, consider the pros and cons—but deep inside, I knew it was too late. I was going to say yes.
Somehow,I maintained my composure during brunch. We mostly talked about hockey, and it was by far the best conversation I’ve ever had with my father. He spoke passionately, relaxed and smiling, to both of us, and I tried not to remember he’d left me for hockey in the first place.
We only had one little hiccup when Cole dropped his fork. He ducked under the table to grab it, and my eyes widened when big hands spread my thighs so he could press a kiss to my center. Dad was busy eating his food, so he missed the ensuing blush and death glare I leveled at Cole when he reappeared with a wide grin.
Shortly after, Dad declared he was stuffed and suddenly brunch was over. He started gathering plates, but I shooed him into the living room to watch the football game. Dad would be asleep on the couch in minutes, and I’d have the chance to talk to Cole, for better or worse.
Instead, he invited Cole into the living room with him.
Cole quirked a brow at me, asking if I wanted help, but I shook my head. It was a simple matter to put away the food and load the dishwasher. Dad and Cole could have their manly bonding time.
I was elbow deep in warm, soapy water when I sensed someone behind me. As I turned, Cole caught me around the waist and pinned me between him and the counter. With his hips pressed into me, I could clearly feel the results of all his teasing during brunch.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “My dad could walk in here at any second.”
“You never answered my question, Avery. Is this what you want?”
The dark flare of possession in his gaze lit me up, but I raised my chin and pushed back. “If I wanted an easy fuck, I’d hit up one of the infamous Kappa parties for something quick and dirty.”
“Avery, when I fuck you, it won’t be easy and it won’t be quick, but it’s sure as hell going to be dirty. Want to hear another secret?” He threaded his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip until he forced my head to tilt. The position gave him access to my neck, and he curled his tongue along the pounding pulse point below my ear, making me shudder.
“I dream of seeing your red lipstick smeared all over my cock while I fuck your pretty mouth.”
My breath caught at the image—one I’d pictured myself—and Cole didn’t miss the hitch.
He grinned against my throat. “You like that, don’t you, Avery? You like the idea of being on your knees swallowing my cock like a good girl.”
Holy fuck, I was not prepared for Cole’s mouth. Both the words coming out of it and the way he dragged his lips across me like he was painting the thoughts on my skin. I swayed toward him, panting and desperate for more contact, but his grip stopped me from finding relief. If he could get me this worked up with only a few sentences, I was doomed.
My thighs shook, and if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around my waist, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold myself up. Doomed or not, I was convinced no one else could make me feel the way he did.
“Yes.”
He growled a sound of satisfaction. “I’ll worship every inch of you until you’re trembling and begging me for more.”
“I don’t beg.” My breathless response wasn’t very convincing. What little control I’d clawed back was quickly swept away with another pass of his tongue and a tug on my hair, stopping just short of pain.
“You will.”