Chapter Thirty-Seven Hailey
Cole locks the door to my apartment behind us and steps out of his shoes.
I sit on the couch slowly, careful with my ribs. I’m so sore all over again, but it’s nothing some ibuprofen can’t help.
Jessica had a new set of clothes waiting for me in the van, which I promptly changed into after she showed me how to use the outdoor shower.
There were a lot of things about tonight I didn’t expect, but vanlife content hitting Tyler’s algorithm has got to be at the top of the list. He really thought of everything, including pomegranate body wash.
Chewy migrates from the back of the couch to my lap with a soft, indignant chirp, like he’s offended I’ve been gone all day. I scratch under his chin, and he leans into my touch.
“I should put coffee on,” Cole says from the kitchen, more to himself than to me.
“It’s nine at night, Cole.”
“Tea, then.”
“Sit down, Cole.”
He looks at me from the kitchen, hand on the kettle, and I take the moment to drink him in.
He’s been holding himself together for the last two hours, but the second our eyes meet, he loses the last of his control.
He crosses the apartment, sitting down beside me on the couch, then lets out a long breath that makes his whole body sag.
I lean my head onto his shoulder, and he turns his face into my hair, breathing me in.
We sit like that for several minutes. Silent, but content with each other’s company.
Chewy purrs in my lap, indifferent to the fact that several hours ago, I killed a man, and that several minutes ago, I watched the people I now apparently call my friends scrub a creek bed of evidence.
Cole’s voice is almost sad when he breaks our silence. “I’m so sorry.”
I lift my head and turn so I can see his face. He’s looking at his hands. His knuckles are still scraped from where he hit the gravel coming down the slope after me.
“Cole. You have nothing to be sorry for. You have to know that.”
He swallows, his gaze flicking between my lips and my eyes.
“Hailey,” he says, my name sounding almost pained. “I hate how today turned out. I should have been closer. It should have never gone as far as it did.”
I turn to face him fully, which pisses off Chewy. He scampers away.
“You know what? I wouldn’t change a single thing about today.
I’m glad he’s dead. When I became a doctor, I took an oath to do no harm, and that oath includes myself.
I am safe now because he’s gone.” I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes.
“You were right when you said tomorrow will be a new day. Lars Winters will not be a problem for me tomorrow, or the next day, or for any woman ever again. And I can definitely live with that. Can’t you? ”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He finally says, “I can as long as you can.”
“And tonight told me everything I need to know about you. You’re someone I can count on, Cole. Someone I trust.”
He’s looking at me like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “What are you saying?”
Instead of answering with words, I close the distance between us, leaning into his space until we’re close enough that I can see the flecks of green in his irises. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t move away.
“I’m saying I want to try this again.” I reach up to touch his face, my fingers tracing the stubbled line of his jaw. “I’m saying I want you, Cole. All of you.”
“Hailey.” He leans into my touch. “Are you sure? Because I’ve wanted this for so long, but not if you’re going to regret it tomorrow.”
“I’m sure.” And I am. For the first time in months, I’m completely certain about something.
“I love who you’ve become—who you’re becoming still.
I love that you fought to be better, that you’re going to keep fighting for it every day.
And I love that you’ve earned this second chance instead of expecting it to be handed to you. ”
The words seem to break something loose in him. His hand comes up to cover mine where I’m holding it against his cheek, and then he’s leaning forward, closing the last few inches of space between us.
His lips collide with mine, hungry and claiming. I melt into him, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer. Our kiss is raw and needy, full of pent-up energy finally being released. His tongue sweeps against mine, and I moan at the taste of him.
“God, Hailey,” he breathes against my lips, his voice low and rough. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
The confession sends a wave of heat coursing through me.
I shift onto his lap, craving contact, and he welcomes me by sliding his hands around my hips and over the curve of my ass, pulling me tightly against him.
A pained hiss slips past my lips, and I wince at the pressure on my ribs.
His grip immediately loosens, and before he can apologize I’m covering his mouth with mine, letting the warmth of his chest soothe the ache.
Each breath I take delivers a heady hit of his intoxicating sandalwood.
“How long?” I whisper, nipping at his bottom lip with a small, teasing smirk. “And what exactly do you want, Cole?”
A groan rumbles in his chest. “Every night since you told me to leave. Every fucking night, I lie awake thinking about what it’d be like to touch you again, taste you. I’ve spent every night wondering if I’d ever get another chance to show you how good I could make you feel.”
The honesty in his words has me feeling like I’m unraveling, losing what little control I’ve managed to cling to so far.
I want him.
I need him.
His dick is hardening beneath me, thickening as our gazes lock. I shift slightly, purposefully rocking against him to provoke a throaty groan.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his head falling back against the couch cushions. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I lean down to press soft, torturously slow kisses along his throat, tasting the salt of his skin and the faint bite of his cologne. “Then we’d better make this count,” I murmur as I reach his ear.
His hands slip beneath my shirt, and the feeling of his hard, calloused fingers sliding over my skin has me arching into him. When he finds the clasp of my bra, he easily unhooks it.
“You’re still sure about this?” he asks, though his thumbs are already stroking along my ribs, inching higher and higher, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
Instead of answering with words, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, letting it and my bra fall to the floor. Cole’s sharp intake of breath is the only sound in the room as his heated gaze travels over my bare skin.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, eyes hungry. “So fucking beautiful.”
His hands cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples in circles until they peak beneath his touch. The tingling sensation shoots straight through me, and I grind down against him harder, chasing the friction we both need.
“Cole,” I gasp, my fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. “I need—”
“I know, baby. I know.” He helps me push his shirt off his shoulders, and then his mouth is on my neck, my collarbone, trailing lower until he takes one nipple between his lips.
The wet heat of his mouth makes me whimper, my hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. I need him closer. He alternates between my nipples, his tongue and teeth driving me toward the edge of sanity while I grind against him.
“Not here,” he says, pulling back with pupils blown wide and hair disheveled. “Let me take you to your bed.”
Before I can protest—not that I want to—he’s standing, lifting me with him like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down the hall, his lips never leaving mine.
My back gently hits the bedroom door as he presses me against it, his skin pressed to mine lighting up every nerve ending in my body.
I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the frantic beat of my own.
He struggles with the doorknob, but he’s too stubborn to pull away from me to look at it.
I drop my head back against the door as I let out a laugh, grabbing the doorknob myself and turning it with ease. Cole chuckles as I shake my head, grinning at him.
He walks us into my room, setting me down gently on my plush comforter. Stepping back, he watches me for a moment, looking at me like I’m his entire world. The lust in his gaze makes heat pool low in my belly, and I cross and then uncross my legs to relieve the tension building between them.
I reach for him, pulling him down onto me, claiming his mouth once more. I scoot back on the bed, dragging him with me, and his weight gently settles around me.
His tongue slides against mine as his hands roam my body, relearning every curve and hollow. When he breaks away to trail kisses down my throat, I arch beneath him, desperate for more contact.
“These need to go,” I murmur, tugging at his belt buckle with fumbling fingers.
He helps me, quickly shedding his jeans and boxers before turning his attention to my remaining clothes.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings and panties, and he pulls them both off in one clean sweep.
When I’m finally bare beneath him, he takes a moment to drink me in, eyes burning with desire.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper as he begins pressing soft, wet kisses to my inner thigh.
His mouth moves higher, and when his tongue reaches my pussy, I cry out, arching off the bed. He explores me with slow, deliberate licks that have me writhing beneath him, my hands fisting the comforter.
“Cole, please,” I gasp, my body trembling.
He pulls back to look up at me, lips glistening with my arousal. “Please what?”
“I need more,” I beg, reaching for him. “I need you inside me.”