Chapter 7 Coco
Coco
The good news is, the heat is back on. The bad news is that the electricity went out along the entire block sometime in the afternoon while I was napping.
Luckily, my fridge is pretty much empty, so nothing will spoil at least. And now that my mind has cleared of the heavy drug fog I was under in the hospital, I have the added bonus of stressing about paying their bill.
I’ll be out of work for weeks, then I’m supposed to start physiotherapy, but I can’t afford it, so it won’t happen. Oh, plus, I’ll likely have to find somewhere else to live at the end of the month.
Everything is closing in, and there’s no way out. All because I wanted to be friendly and cute to some strange man who wouldn’t have noticed my existence if I’d just kept to myself.
“Stupid, Coco, so freaking stupid.”
Some days, I wonder why my parents ever had me.
There’s no life’s purpose for me except to struggle.
It was easy in the foster system to dream of a grand future, with an amazing career, a husband who loves me, and the sweetest kids.
Reality, however, has been a cold, hard truth, nowhere near what I imagined for myself.
“Stop wallowing.” A ringing phone interrupts my grumbling. Thankfully, it had been charged before the power went out. “Hello?” It’s a private number.
“Coco?” My entire body perks up at the sound of Lucca’s husky voice.
“Yes.” What else do I say?
“It’s Lucca.” Boy, does my body already know that. “How are you feeling?”
Awkward. But I don’t say that. “I’m resting, a little sore, but I’ll survive.” For now.
“That’s good. Can I bring you anything?” Staring around my dinky, little one-bedroom apartment, I stifle a laugh. Would the winning lottery ticket be too much to ask for?
“No, I’ve got everything I need.” I expect him to hang up.
“How about dinner? I’ll be there around six. I just need you to give me your address.”
“Dinner?” I nearly choke on the word while staring at the sleeve of crackers I was munching on, planning to save the rest for later because there’s not much else to eat.
“Yes, I was thinking Thai? Or perhaps you’d prefer soup? I know a great Italian place that makes the best focaccia bread.”
Panic creeps back in. He can’t see this place, see me. I’m a mess. Everything is a mess.
“I’m sorry, I-I-I just…I can’t.”
Hitting the red “end call” button, fresh tears spring to my eyes, and regret coils in my stomach like a snake. I’ve never had so much animosity towards myself or my life before, and now I hate everything.
The phone rings again, then again, until I finally shut the stupid thing off.
Lucca is posh and elegant; I’m barely holding on.
There’s no way he’d come if I gave him my address.
As soon as he saw where I lived, he’d turn right back around.
I know this because I want to do the same thing every time I come home.
Leaning back in my chair, I stare wide-eyed at the aging ceiling discolored by old water stains and decorated with cobwebs in the corners as I contemplate what the hell to do with my life.
I love working at Love & Lattes. The amount of time I spend with Sabrina and Janet is what keeps me going because with them, I know I’m loved and wanted. It’s everything outside of that where I feel invisible and alone.
Sure, I could give things with Lucca a chance, but I’ll forever be insecure about our differences, and eventually, he’ll grow tired of it.
Don’t men always? They want a woman silent and compliant, right?
I wouldn’t know, never having had a boyfriend, and I hold much regret about that now.
Maybe if I had some experience, this wouldn’t be an issue.
It is what it is, I suppose. There’s no changing the past either way.
Sinking deeper into my comfortable chair, I close my eyes and beg for sleep to come quickly because my emotions are simply too turbulent for rational thoughts right now.
* * *
Sleep never came. My body was restless, agitated, and in too much damn pain. There was no chance of falling asleep, so I began reading, but was too distracted. Watching something on my phone wasn’t an option because the power never came back on, either, and I didn’t want to kill the battery.
Needing to pee, I struggle to my feet and use a crutch to hobble down the hall to the bathroom.
The sun is shining through the flimsy curtain, and through it, I see more snow.
After using the toilet, washing my hands, and brushing my teeth, I stare at the shower, longing to soak under the hot spray.
Unfortunately, it’s not feasible because I can’t do it alone.
I leave the bathroom and debate going to my room for fresh clothes, but decide the exertion isn’t worth it, so I head back to the living room and stop short when I see Lucca standing in the doorway with coffee and a bag of food in hand.
“How did you get in?”
He kicks the door shut behind himself.
“I know a trick or two.” His smug smile shouldn’t make me want to sigh happily at how handsome he is.
“That’s breaking and entering. It’s like a felony or something.” I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it sounds like it could be.
He shrugs. No big deal to a man with enough money to feed a small country. I’d be cocky about it too.
“You shut your phone off, so I had to act a little more drastically than anticipated.”
Okay, okay, this is true, but… “I told you I wasn’t interested.” Except, I desperately am.
“I heard what you said, I just don’t believe you.” He places the bag on the short counter, then hands me a coffee and unloads the contents. “Sit down.” His stern tone sets my body on high alert, and not because I don’t like it.
“You’re bossy,” I grumble and sit on one of the stools, warily reaching for the coffee. He watches me as I take a sniff, immediately straightening up when the scent of vanilla caramel latte that I favor tickles my nostrils. “How did you know?” That first sip hits, and I could melt with happiness.
“I pay attention.”
After searching through a few drawers, Lucca returns with a knife, unwraps a breakfast sandwich, slices it in half, and places it in front of me on the wrapper.
The thoughtful gesture nearly brings tears to my eyes.
Fighting them off is difficult. It’s been a while since someone has taken care of me.
“Why are you here, Lucca?” My voice remains low while my fingers wrap around half the sandwich, bringing it to my mouth for a small nibble.
Standing across from me, his gaze pierces my insides as he takes a bite of his own sandwich before saying a word. Lucca eats silently, allowing the tension to intensify, amping up my nervousness with every passing second.
When he does finally speak, my body responds in kind. “You’re mine, Coco. I knew it six months ago when I walked into the café. I suspected you were the one leaving me those gifts and following me on occasion, and when Sabrina confirmed it, I was done. I decided you would be mine.”
My nipples pebble, and my sex clenches at his primitive declaration, plus, I read way too many dirty books. “I’m not a possession, Lucca. You don’t get to just pound your chest and claim me like a piece of property.”
He shakes his head, his gaze enrapturing me as he reaches forward to caress my jaw tenderly. “If that’s what you need to believe, amore.”
Frowning, I set my sandwich down. He ignores me and picks it back up to feed me himself.
Of course, I cave. Of course, I do. Who wouldn’t?
The man you’re half in love with is hand-feeding you, wouldn’t your resistance falter too?
We finish the meal in silence. Him encouraging me to eat more and more, and my stomach being greedy for everything he gives me.
To the point where I cover my mouth so he’ll stop.
“No more, please, too full.”
Satisfaction curls his lips, and he cleans up our mess.
“I would like you to come and stay with me while you’re recovering. You need help.” He finally gazes around my small apartment, frowning when he realizes there is no light. “And better living conditions.” Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be judging me. I hope. “I’d like to help you.”
“I don’t need help.” Even to my own ears, that sounds weak. He looks at me like he’s asking if I’m honestly that delusional. “I don’t.” Grinding my teeth, I’d stomp my foot if I could, too.
“I’ll call Preston. He can handle your belongings and whatever lease that needs breaking.” Lucca types away on his phone. “When did the power go out?”
Our eyes meet, the ice in his flashes with what I think is rage, and I hesitate to answer.
“I’m fine here, Lucca.”
“You’re not. When did it go out.” It’s no longer a question.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in my throat, my voice tightens. “Sometime after I got home yesterday.”
“Yesterday,” he hisses, and I just know someone is about to be in big trouble. “That chair, you want it to come?” He takes obvious note of it being my bed for the moment. I nod, and he types some more before putting his phone away.
Watching Lucca maneuver around what has been my home for almost a year, I’m hit with a sense of foreboding. Things like this don’t happen to me. But after grabbing my medication, phone, and charger, he wraps my blanket around me and scoops me into his arms, much too gently for a man his size.
My lone crutch clatters to the ground, and he doesn’t even care as he starts to leave.
I want to protest harder, but who am I kidding?
I could barely make it to the bathroom this morning, and I’m so tired of always being worried about the gas and power being cut off.
I can’t keep living like this, and for once, I want to be greedy.
I want Lucca to be my white knight, or is it dark knight?