Chapter 21
“Iswear to God, Marco, if you don’t stop opening and closing the shade, I’m never bringing you to a conference again.”
He grinned from his window seat on the plane, but mercifully stopped the repetitive motion. “Lies. I’m your favorite.”
Second favorite, but he didn’t need to know Cole was above him in rank. “That’s why I gave you the window.”
Just the thought of Cole had me itching to pull my phone out to see if he’d responded to my last message. The exorbitant WiFi fee kept my hands firmly in my lap, but I took note of the urge. Again. We were on attempt number twenty-three for the two-hour flight home.
Marco twisted to face me. “I can’t believe you talked Seb into letting us both go on this trip instead of him.”
“It wasn’t hard when he had severe food poisoning.” I narrowed my eyes at Marco. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
He clutched his chest and gasped. “I would never.” With a grin, he pulled a book from the seatback pocket in front of him and proceeded to ignore me.
I hadn’t seen Cole in almost two weeks after he’d left my dad’s house on Christmas. Shortly after his promise to make me beg, Dad had yelled for Cole to grab him a soda. Nothing like an estranged parent to interrupt sexy time. Cole rejoined him on the couch, and we spent the rest of the afternoon watching hometown hero Derrick Asher and the New York Knights absolutely crush San Francisco.
Cole had left after the game, claiming he needed a nap, but the hungry look he gave me on the way out offered a clear invitation. One I surprised myself by reluctantly declining in favor of spending Dad’s rare day off with him.
Had I known how long it would be before Cole could follow through on his promise, I would have dragged him upstairs immediately.
Marco wiggled again, accidentally kicking me in my tiny amount of airline space and pulling me out of my head. Yes, he was one of my favorite people, but I’d given him the window seat because his long legs didn’t fit anywhere else. He needed his leg space plus mine and the empty seat between us. I could probably credit his incessant fidgeting for that rare free spot.
We’d been gone for over a week attending the AWWP bookfair, the biggest conference for academic writing in the country. They were primarily geared toward literary journals, but the attendee list included a robust collection of university newspapers. Despite the TU Post’s small size, Seb had managed to secure funding for travel, fees, and a table during the exhibition.
Then three days before he was supposed to leave, he began violently puking in his office. Bad luck for him, good luck for us when we changed out his direct flight for two cheaper ones with multiple layovers. I’d hoped to get home earlier, but multiple layovers meant multiple delays. It was honestly a miracle we’d even made this last flight.
Cole and the guys had a game tonight, which Marco and I were supposed to attend, but our plane was late landing in Dallas. We’d been traveling most of the day, and Marco’s girlfriend was picking us up “eventually”—her words. Next time, I’d make my own arrangements.
As usual, my first thought was Cole. Would he drive to Dallas for airport duty? I’d always taken an Uber before, so I didn’t know the etiquette. Apparently, significant others took on the responsibility, but Cole wasn’t my significant anything, despite agreeing to fuck only him. I eyed my messenger bag, shoved under the seat in front of me, and tried to quelch the urge to ask him.
I couldn’t resist any longer. Number twenty-four got me. I pulled my phone out of my bag and cringed as I paid for access to my messages. Before we’d boarded, I’d been teasing him about hockey players’ obsessions with their jerseys, specifically women wearing their jerseys, and he’d definitely reacted.
Me: Maybe I should get a collection and rotate. Spread around the love.
Cole: Absolutely not. If I see Reece’s name on your back, I’m ripping it off you.
Cole: Unrelated, come over after the game.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my grin in check. Marco was far enough away he couldn’t read over my shoulder, but I didn’t want to give him ammunition to hack my phone or something either.
Me: Tutoring session?
Cole should have been at the arena already for pre-game, but he apparently had his phone nearby. The response was immediate.
Cole: We can do that too if you want.
I was exhausted, but Cole’s message kicked up my adrenaline with a shiver of excitement. If I went home, I’d pass out until classes started on Monday. The logistics of going over to Cole’s weren’t easy. I had one bag full of newspaper crap meant for our table, and another full of dirty clothes.
With a quick sniff of my shirt, I confirmed I smelled like twelve hours in an airport. I really should stay home… but I didn’t want to.
Me: What do I get if you win?
Cole: Shouldn’t I be asking you that?
Me: Okay. What do you get if you win?
Cole: Hopefully you. Naked. In my bed.
Cole: I’m less picky about the last part.
Cole: Full disclosure, it was the same answer either way.
I smothered my laugh and cast a quick glance at Marco to be sure he was still engrossed in his book. No worries there.
Me: Guess we’ll see what happens when the game is over. Good luck.
With a smile, I set my phone in my lap, ignoring the buzzing from the messages coming through. I had another hour before we landed, and I needed to take a nap if I planned to be at Cole’s house before he got home from the arena.
TU destroyed the other team.I kept track of the game as I waited at the airport, while Marco’s girlfriend drove us at ten miles under the speed limit from Dallas to Addison, and during the quick turnaround at my dad’s house. Drop off the newspaper stuff, take a quick shower, grab a change of clothes, lipstick, and off to Cole’s.
They were up four-zero when I parked and waved at Mrs. Lipnicki. Her curtain didn’t move this time, but I liked to err on the side of caution. Cole had told me ages ago they left the back door unlocked, so I circled the house and stopped short when I came face to beak with Henry sitting on top of the fence.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked her, then shrugged and tucked her under my arm on my way into the house.
The guys must have forgotten they let her out. I set her down in the kitchen, and she fluffed her feathers with a disgruntled squawk when I firmly shut the door. She ignored me as I climbed the stairs in favor of staring out into the darkening yard.
I stood for a long moment in the hallway trying to calm my racing heart. He wasn’t home. They still had four minutes to play according to my app. The hesitation wasn’t about Cole—it was about me.
Scott had done a number on my subconscious, and one good experience with Cole’s mouth wasn’t enough to erase several years of manipulation. I wanted to enjoy sex. Invasive fears of disappointment and disgust didn’t belong here, but I still felt an insidious wriggle of doubt.
Cole was right at Christmas. I’d never have been able to pick up a random guy at a Kappa party. I needed someone I trusted to do this with. Maybe I’d been wrong the whole time. Maybe casual, meaningless orgasms weren’t the best way to reclaim my pleasure.
I shook my head and closed myself in his room, then laughed when I caught sight of his bed. Two jerseys lay next to each other, carefully spread out on the blankets. One that would probably fit a human woman, most likely meant for me, and another with parts cut out that would probably fit an adult duck.
The audacity of making a jersey for his roommate’s pet duck with his own name on it appealed to me at a deep level. Cole appealed to me on a deep level. I rubbed the smooth fabric and considered his request.
My first instinct was to push back. The evil little voice in my head insisted if I gave him everything he wanted, I’d be left with nothing. He’d take and take until I forgot what it was like to wish for something different.
But the voice was describing Scott, not Cole.
Cole, who started every conversation asking me about my day. Who’d encouraged me to listen to my body and take what I wanted. Who’d debated with me, without laughing, the likelihood of a serial killer hiding amongst the college population in a small town. More than once.
I put on the jersey. It hung down to my hips, and I definitely couldn’t wear it out without something under it. Luckily, I wasn’t planning to wear it out.
I set the matching duck jersey next to my clothes on his desk and crawled under the covers. No reason to make myself more nervous by standing around wondering what to do with my hands. Besides, his bed was a million times more comfortable than mine.
With the lights off and Cole’s subtle scent surrounding me, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I checked the final score when my phone buzzed an update, five-zero, then set it aside. He’d won his game, as expected. I was in his bed, as promised. Not naked or waiting up for him though.
Asleep and wearing his jersey would have to do.