Chapter Thirty-One
NAMING RIGHTS
Cole
We step outside into the cooling evening air, and I’m still grinning like an idiot over “The Situation” when Jack’s voice cuts through the dark.
“Hey, Cole, wait up.”
I stop, turning halfway. Andi’s a step ahead of me on the walk, pausing when she realizes I’m not behind her.
“I’ll just…” She motions toward the staircase leading up to my apartment, shooting me a look that says don’t take too long.
Jack stands just outside the door, arms crossed, posture casual but eyes sharp.
“I know we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, voice lower now. Not angry—just real. “But I really like your mom. So maybe we try being civil.”
It’s not an apology. But it’s something. And I know what it costs him to even say that.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding once. “Okay.”
He studies me a second longer, then adds, “So you and Andi, huh?”
I nod, shoving one hand in my pocket. “It’s new-ish. But yeah.”
He looks me over again. “She’s tough. She doesn’t let people in easy.”
I nod again. I know that better than anyone.
“But it’s obvious she likes you,” he says. “A lot. So I’ll just say this once—if you hurt her, if you break her? You deal with me.”
The words aren’t a threat. They’re a promise.
And even though my gut tightens, I respect the hell out of it. I’d say the same if the roles were reversed.
“I’m not gonna hurt her,” I say quietly. “I’m not built that way.”
He looks at me like he’s deciding whether or not he believes it. Then he nods and steps back, still looking at me like we’re two men who don’t quite like each other but might be learning to tolerate our new proximity.
I head toward the staircase and take them two at a time. I find Andi waiting for me in the living room, standing by the sofa. From her vantage point, I can tell she’d been watching out the window.
She looks me over as I approach. “Is everything okay?”
I don’t answer. Just close the distance between us and kiss her—soft at first, then firmer when she makes that little sound in the back of her throat that wrecks me every time.
She pulls back just enough to ask, “Do you think your mom likes me?”
I kiss the corner of her mouth. “She adores you.”
Another kiss. “Are you and Jack okay now?”
I kiss her again, slower this time. “Working on it.”
“Did he threaten you?”
I pause, considering it. “...Mildly.”
She laughs and tugs me closer by placing her arms around my waist. “You gonna tell me what he said?”
“Nope.”
She kisses me again, warm and wicked. “You’re being cagey.”
I kiss her back. “You’re being distracting.”
And honestly? I don’t even care what we’re talking about anymore.
Because all I can think about—and I truly mean all I can think about—is the fact that she gave my manhood a nickname.
She named it.
Game over.
I’m gone for this girl.
Hopeless.
Utterly, irreversibly gone.
Done for.
I should’ve stayed to help my mom clean up. She cooked for me—for us—and I always stay to help when she cooks for me. Always load the dishwasher, scrub the pots, ask where she keeps the weird Tupperware lids. That’s our thing.
But tonight threw me off my game.
Introducing Andi? Not what I’d planned.
Meeting Jack wasn’t in the script either.
And then finding out they know each other—well?
Yeah, that was the part that really knocked the wind out of me. Seeing that they have a relationship—a warm, joking, comfortable one made me see Jack in a new light. I still don’t know if he’s good enough for my mom, but if Andi can vouch for him, I guess I’ll give him a chance.
I move closer and bring my hands around Andi’s waist as I drop a kiss to her bare shoulder.
“Can you stay?”
She turns her head slightly, lips brushing my cheek. “I can’t. I’ve gotta go home tonight. Let Beef out before he eats the drywall.”
I groan into her skin. “I’ll buy you new drywall.”
She laughs, soft and breathless. “Tempting.”
I run my hands along the straps of her tank top, fingers grazing the warm skin of her shoulders. “How long do I have you?”
She pretends to think, like she’s comparing options or waiting on a better offer. “Give or take thirty minutes.”
“I can work with that,” I say—and I mean it.
I catch her mouth in a kiss that starts slow—just lips and hands and heat—but it turns greedy fast. Because I miss her before she’s even left. Because I’m not done being wrapped up in her.
She gasps when I lift her, both arms under her thighs like she weighs nothing, like this is the most obvious thing in the world. She clings to me instinctively, laughing against my neck, and I don’t stop kissing her even as I walk us straight to my bedroom.
Her fingers knot in my hair. Her mouth curves against mine.
Thirty minutes.
That’s all she’s giving me.
So I’m gonna make every second count.
I drop her onto the bed with a bounce and crawl in after her, caging her in with my arms and this big, stupid grin I can’t seem to shake.
She’s still laughing when I nuzzle into her neck, but it turns into a squeak when I murmur, “So… The Situation, huh?”
Her whole body tenses. “I knew you were gonna bring that up.”
I pull back just enough to see her face—bright red, adorably horrified.
“I’m sorry, I just need a little clarity here,” I say, settling in beside her and propping my head up on one hand. “Is it like a title, or more of a code name?”
“I’m never speaking again.”
“Because if it’s a title, I feel like I should start capitalizing it in texts. Maybe add a trademark.”
“Good grief.”
I kiss her jaw, her neck, the place behind her ear that makes her shiver.
“You know you can’t just say something like that and expect me to be normal about it,” I murmur.
She makes a strangled sound. “I wasn’t trying to say it out loud!”
I grin against her skin. “But you did. And now I’m haunted.”
“Cole.”
“Like… The Situation? Really?”
Her eyes go wide. “We are not discussing this.”
“I just have questions, babe.”
She groans, already pulling a pillow over her face. “I hate myself.”
“Oh no. I love you. This is the highlight of my life.” I chuckle. “Did you consider other options? The Crisis? The Phenomenon? The Event?”
“I’m begging you,” she says, voice muffled under the pillow.
I pull the pillow from her face and kiss her flushed cheek. “Does it have a backstory?” I ask, mock-serious now. “Did it earn the name through a series of heroic deeds? Is there a plaque?”
She lets out a muffled, strangled noise. “You are such a troublemaker.”
“I just think he deserves to know,” I say, brushing hair from her face. “You can’t name a man’s junk and not tell him why.”
She groans. “Can you not say junk right now?”
“Sorry. The Situation.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t.” I lean down, pressing my lips to her cheek. “And you’re blushing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You so are.” I grin against her jaw. “You realize this opens up so many possibilities,” I say, unbuttoning her jeans.
She blinks. “Like what?”
“Custom boxers. A license plate. Maybe a podcast.”
She throws her head back with a laugh. “You’re unhinged.”
I kiss the hollow of her throat. “You made me this way. I was normal before you.”
“Liar.” She smiles.
“You named my d—”
She slaps a hand over my mouth. “Finish that sentence and I’m walking home.”
I laugh, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her wrist instead. “Fine. I’ll behave.”
“You’re incapable.”
“Not true. I just have very specific triggers. Like finding out my girlfriend secretly assigned my anatomy a formal title.”
She softens immediately. “Girlfriend?”
The word hangs between us like a live wire. My pulse kicks up—stupid, really, considering everything we’ve already done—but this feels bigger somehow. More real.
I pause, feeling the shift in the air. Her eyes search mine, and I catch the tiny hitch in her breathing, the way her fingers curl slightly against my shirt. And my throat goes dry.
All that cocky confidence from thirty seconds ago? Yeah, that’s taking a real nice vacation right about now.
“Yeah,” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I meant it to. “That okay?”
For a second—just a second—her whole face goes soft in this way that makes my chest tight. Like maybe she’s been waiting for this. Like maybe she wants it as much as I do.
She doesn’t answer—just slides her hand up to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, and pulls me down into a kiss that tastes like a yes.