Chapter 15 #2
“You couldn’t have known,” I said quietly.
“No. But I should have been there anyway.” She wiped her eyes. “I’ve withdrawn the complaint. And I’m writing a letter of apology to Dr. Vaughn. It won’t undo what I put him through, but it’s a start.”
“That’s very generous of you. I know he’ll appreciate hearing from you.”
“It’s the least I can do.” She stood, gathering her purse. “Thank you, Ms. Sutton. For being honest with me. For not just telling me what I wanted to hear.”
After she left, I went back to my office, thinking heavily about grief and blame and the stories we tell ourselves to survive loss. Then I picked up my phone and texted Cole.
Me:
Diane Hart came by. She apologized. It’s really over.
Cole:
Good. Glad we can put that to bed. Now start thinking about being in my bed on Saturday.
Me:
There are several days between now and Saturday, Dr. Vaughn. Do you intend to abandon me and my needs during this time?
Cole:
Not at all. Supply closet. Ten minutes.
I let out a snort of a laugh, but then texted back.
Me:
Really? Cause…we can do that…
Cole:
I’m just playing.
Unless you’re gonna do it
* * *
The weather was so perfect on Saturday, it seemed to draw everyone out and into the light. I spent the morning watching my niece play soccer, then took her and Alicia to lunch before heading home to finish some deep cleaning.
Hours later, I stood in front of my closet, discarding outfit after outfit until I settled on a deep red wrap dress that clung to me in all the ways I loved.
I lost myself in the ritual of getting ready for a date—something I hadn’t done in what felt like years. Jeremiah and I didn’t have nice dates. We met for meals or a show, but the main event was always a few hours of raucous sex with no emotion, no care, no yearning.
No love.
Tonight, I was excited to curl and coax my hair, apply makeup, enhance every part of my body that I knew Cole liked to explore.
Cole arrived right on time in dark slacks and a button-up shirt, no tie, the top button undone. His eyes traveled over me slowly, appreciatively.
“Amazing,” he said. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Could say the same about you.”
We dined at Augustine, a downtown restaurant with romantic lighting, light Southern fare, and exceptional wine. We sat at a corner table, knees touching under the tablecloth, chatting about everything except work.
It was easy. Comfortable. Like we’d been doing this forever.
After dinner, we walked to the Fox Theatre for a show—a musical I’d mentioned in passing that I’d love to see. He remembered. He held my hand in his lap the entire time, his thumb stroking my skin.
During intermission, we stood in the crowded lobby drinking overpriced wine from plastic cups when I saw him.
Jeremiah.
He was across the room with a woman I didn’t recognize. She was petite, beautiful, bright red lips open wide and laughing at something he’d said. She touched his arm, casual and comfortable, and he smiled down at her like she was the only person in the building.
Cole followed my gaze. “Ain’t that your boy?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Mmmmm,” I hummed in confirmation.
“You want to go say hi? You want to hide?”
I turned back to Cole, surprised by how much I meant it when I said, “I don’t want to do either. I’d much rather be hugged up with a surgeon nigga from my job.”
We both laughed, but after another glance at Jeremiah, I never thought of him again.
I didn’t feel regret or loss or even curiosity.
I felt relief. He’d found someone who wanted what he could give.
And I’d found someone who gave without me having to ask, who showed up when it mattered, who looked at me like I was everything he’d wished for.
Cole tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, then dropped a kiss there. “You good?”
“I’m perfect,” I said, leaning in for a longer, deeper kiss.
After the show, we ended up back at his place. We liked my condo, but he had so much more room. And he had Ms. Patricia, who, after learning that I existed, started leaving meals for two and decadent desserts for us to enjoy.
Cole unlocked the door and pulled me inside, his hands already reaching for me. “I’ve been waiting all night to get you alone,” he said against my mouth.
“You had me alone at dinner.”
“Not alone enough.”
He walked me backward to the stairs, kissing me between steps, his hands mapping the curves of my body through the dress. He pulled me up the steps and to the bedroom, where he turned on one lamp, filling the room with low golden light.
He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it over a chair. “Let me know if you’ve got somewhere to be. I plan to take my time with you.”
“I’m all yours,” I replied.
“Yeah? For how long?”
“How long do you want me?”
“That is actually a perfect question to ask.”
He undressed me slowly, his hands reverent, his mouth following the path of each revealed inch of skin. When I was finally naked, he looked at me like I was something so precious. The look in his eyes made me want to cry.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So made just for me.”
“Cole—”
“Let me—I had this all planned out,” he said. “Let me say it. You’re beautiful and brilliant and stubborn and funny. You consume me in the best possible way. I’m so fucking in love with you, Harper. I need you to know that.”
I pulled him down to the bed, needing him closer. He stripped quickly, then covered my body with his. When he finally pushed inside me, I sucked in a breath, my eyes closed. He just felt so good. So right.
“You okay?” he asked, his hips stilling.
“I am…” My eyes opened. Then I realized they were brimming with tears. “I’m more than okay.”
He moved slowly, building rhythm and searing heat. Our fingers intertwined, his forehead pressed to mine, our bodies moving in sync.
“Baby,” he groaned, shuddering. “Why do you feel so good right now?”
I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, drawing him deeper. “Do not ever stop, Cole.”
He shifted his angle and suddenly, he was hitting a pleasure center that made me cry out.
The orgasm unfurled slow and devastating, flames licking through my body, consuming me in waves that built and built until I was on fire.
When it finally crashed over me, I screamed his name, my fingers digging into his shoulders for dear life.
Cole followed seconds later, a low moan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep.
“Stay,” he said when he caught his breath. Still inside me, still on top of me, my limbs still tight around him.
“I was planning on it,” I said. I was tired of pretending I wanted to get up and go home right after sex anyway.
“No, I mean…stay. With me. Let’s do this. For serious, for real, forever. I meant what I said, Harper. I’m in love with you.”
I tried to speak, but nothing came out except a whimper. Or a squeak. Cole laughed and kissed me again, slow and deep, his hands on my face like he needed to hold me in place.
“You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready,” he whispered, his lips skimming my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “I just need you to know.”
“No…Cole. I—”
I didn’t know what I thought would happen when I opened my mouth, but I was not prepared for the torrent of emotion that came from simply trying to tell this man I was in love with him.
Had been in love with him.
Was so scared of opening my heart and life to someone, but I couldn’t help but fall hard for him.
Cole rolled us so he could hold me, rubbing my arms and whispering to me while I got myself together. It took a minute, pressed under his warmth and muscle like the best weighted blanket.
Then I propped myself up on one elbow, looking down at him in the dim light. His expression was open, vulnerable.
“It scares the shit out of me to say this,” I said, the words tumbling out before fear could clamp down on them.
“But I can’t even picture my life anymore without you in it.
I want this. All of it. Whatever’s next, however messy or weird or sideways it gets.
I want you. I want to love you. And I want you to love me back. ”
Cole pulled me down to him, kissing my lips. “Good. Because I’m already there.”