by Maria Xystra
“Cole…” I nudge him, and he moans. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He sits up slipping into autopilot, with his eyes still shut. I take his hand and help him up. “That’s right, honey. Come on, up, up, up.” He lets me guide him to the bedroom and I tuck him in. I change into my PJs and fall fast asleep on the other side of the bed.
CHAPTER 31
Much to my surprise the next few days pass by quite smoothly. Without any complications, without any turbulence.
Cole had a hard time accepting the fact that he needed to stay at home to heal. His wounds kept getting better and better and what would have normally taken a month to recover from, for Cole, less than a week was enough.
When I got home from work the other day, I found him doing some push-ups in my living room. Or at least that’s what it used to be until this morning. Apparently, someone got bored and decided to redecorate. I clearly recall standing beside him, crossing my arms and tapping my shoe on the floor. Getting his attention travelled like a rush from my feet to my head, just like his gaze. When he shot up from his workout position, all sweaty and sexy as hell with his muscles exposed and practically steaming with his hotness, I had to try really hard to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor and myself from drooling all over my shirt.
But after that, I kind of got used to it – him. Kind of. I’m sure that even now, after four days of having him around, every time I walk into the kitchen and see him, my insides will clench, and a small lump will settle in my throat.
I bring the covers over my head and lay in bed for a while longer. Major headache. Well, it comes with a major hangover. The result of following Cole’s advice and going out last night. The events from my night out replay in my mind like scenes from a film.
“So, are you two sleeping together?” Sam had asked the moment she got into my car.
“Well, hello to you, too,” I greeted her.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get to the point,” she commanded as we made our way to the club. After an exaggerated sigh, I granted her with an answer.
“We are sleeping together, but in the sense that we’re just sharing the same bed.”
“Whattt? Whyyy?? Oh, my G- Are you ser- WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!?” she exploded with a series of ‘I-can’t-believe-this’ comments. I waited patiently for her to finish her lecture. “OK,” she calmed down after a bit as if me not having sex with Cole is the most shocking news she’s ever got. “So, you’re saying that for the past few days, you have been lying next to… that… body… that… face… that... well, practically the hottest man on the market, and you’re not… fucking him?”
“Sam!”
“I’m not done!” she raised a hand warning me. “You have him there, all wounded and vulnerable, and-”
“He’s not that-”
“Not done! And you just like, what? Say goodnight and… and sleep?” she finished in accusatory disbelief. “I just don’t see why.”
“Really?” I turned to her fully sarcastic. “You don’t see why?”
She started saying something, but it was my turn to erupt. “Don’t you think I want to?? You have no idea how much it’s been torturing me, Sam. Ever since the first moment I laid eyes on him I’ve wanted to have him. And I’m talking about raw, primal, senseless desire,” I emphasized each word. “And it’s not like it has diminished in any way. It’s just that it’s gotten kinda easier to control now; easier to get used to the fact that I can’t have what I want.” I shook my head and she stayed silent. “Sleeping with him it’s…it’s not that simple, and you know it.”
“Have you ever considered telling him about you?” she suggested.
“No! No way! I won’t bring him into this.”
“I’m just saying, if there’s one man that could surely handle something like that, it’s Cole.”
“Forget about it, Sam… It’s not like I can just walk up to him and say: hey, you know what I forgot to mention? I’m a freaking vampire!” I mocked her.
“OK, then, explain this: how come you’re sharing a bed with him? Don’t you have a guest room? Isn’t this…well, masochistic?”
“Actually, there’s a very reasonable explanation for this,” I started but she interrupted me with a ‘pfff’. I rolled my eyes and she urged me to go on. “Since the night of the attack, I keep dreaming about Cole’s stabbing.” That captured her attention and she got serious. “Sometimes I made it on time, other times I was too late. The dreams were really brief, but I kept waking up scared. The last time I had the dream, I got a good glimpse of the attacker – Marcus.”
“What? Is there any chance Marcus was the one who attacked Cole?”
“No, no, none of the men who were there looked like him. I’m absolutely positive. But I saw him in my dream and… well… the second night that happened, I went to the room Cole was sleeping in. You know, it’s one of those dreams where, even though you know it’s just a dream, you still feel the need to see that person and make sure they’re safe. And I just wanted to check up on him.”
“And what? Getting a quick glance through the door wasn’t enough? You had to get under his sheets and feel him up to ‘make sure he was OK’?” she wastes no time to tease me.
I smiled at her mockingly. “He wasn’t asleep. He saw me in the doorway and slowly moved to one side of the bed, drawing back the covers from the other, making room for me.”
“So, he kind of invited you into his bed?” she said reaching for her phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Cole! You two are pathetic! OK, I understand you are stupid! But him? He had you under his sheets, in his bed, and he didn’t-??”
“Sam! Hang up the phone, now!” she complied before she got an answer. “They’re meeting up with the rest of the guys, just let them be.”
“One of these days, Lex…one of these days.”
“One of these days what?” I challenge her.
“One of these days I’m gonna lock you up in a room and won’t let you out until you two…become one!”
“One??? Do you mean fight until there’s only one of us left standing??” I comment sarcastically. “And why the fuck are you so obsessed with this? You’ve never been so interested in who I have sex with before!”
“SAM!” a muffled voice came through her phone. We both jumped at the interruption and exchanged wide-eyed looks.
She held the device in her hands as if it was burning and I could see Cole’s name in a not-at-all dead line. “WHO’S HAVING SEX WITH LEXY?”
We got into a silent fight with each other, me trying to terminate the call and Sam trying to talk to him. Given the fact that I was driving, she won. She put him on speaker and greeted him as if nothing was happening.
“Hey, Cole! What’s up?”
“I don’t know, you called me.”
“I did??” she feigned innocence.
I slapped myself in the forehead in a dramatic ‘we’re-so-doomed’ motion.
“I must have misdialed. Is…um…everything OK? Are the boys there yet?”
“Not yet. Who’s having sex with Lexy?” he repeated his question.
I grabbed the phone from Sam’s hand. “It’s none of your business. Don’t trash the house!” I warned him and hung up. And then made sure I did hang up.
Sam burst into nervous laughter and I couldn’t stay mad for long.
“I’ll make you a deal” I told her. “If what you’re rooting for actually happens, which it won’t, you’ll be the first to know. But until then, you are not bringing up the matter again. Ever.”
The conversation ended there and the last thing I recall from last night, was meeting Hans and Charles at the club. Everything gets quite hazy after that. Bits and pieces are trying to fill the puzzle. Lots of dancing, lots of drinking, lots of…flirting? Oh, no… I don’t even remember how I got home. Or how I got into bed. Or how I got… undressed? Shit!
I push the covers off me and standing up feels like a real struggle. I reach for my robe and try to
fight past the headache. I gotta find out what happened last night.
I find the shirt I was wearing last night by my bedroom door. Picking it up I turn the handle. I hear noise coming from the kitchen and make a beeline for the bathroom. That earns me about ten more minutes before hell breaks loose.
I squeeze my eyes shut, getting ready for the encounter with Cole, dreading the information I’ll get and taking a deep breath, I exit.
I notice my cardigan lying on the floor, between the guest room and my room. I pick it up and walk further into the kitchen.
Cole slowly stirs his coffee and taking his time, he raises his eyes to me. I can see the shadow of a smile across his features. I squint my eyes at him trying to see what I’m missing.
“Oh, please, don’t mind me, keep going,” he urges me with a nod to follow the trail of clothes.
I take a look around the open space and spot my heels – quite far away from each other. One by the front door, the other close to his bedroom. One last piece missing.
“Khm. Where are my jeans?” I ask him already feeling the blood gathering in my face.
“Right where you left them,” he replies casually.
I glance at the door of the guestroom and back to him. He nods in confirmation. I cover the distance in a couple of strides, cursing myself the whole time and I hesitantly step inside. And of course, I find my jeans by the bed. And to be specific, by the side of the bed he’s been sleeping on.
Picking them up, I storm out of the room. Well, not really out since he’s standing in the doorway and I actually collide forcefully with his chest.
“Oh, you found them!”
Lost for words, I take a few deep breaths and draw my hand over my face.
“Well…?” I try to get some answers from him, but he seems too intent on dragging this ‘talk of shame’ as far as he can.
“Well, what?” he says and heads back to the kitchen.
I follow him reluctantly. He leans against the breakfast bar and sips his coffee slowly.
“Well, what happened last night?” I blurt out the question.
“Last night? Hmm, let me see…” he stalls, and I cross my arms over my chest in response. “The guys came over and you went out with Sam and Hans. Right?” he starts.
“That I remember. I’m talking about what happened here,” I prompt him consciously trying to remain patient.
“…What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks me with the cup halfway to his lips. I catch the glint in his eyes and right before he takes a sip, he gives me this mischievous, sexy as hell smile. Like he has a secret he’s dying to tell but chooses to wait and torture me before sharing. It’s a look I’ve never seen before and it catches me off guard. My knees bend and a fist grabs my heart violently.
I shake out of the trance he almost pulled me into, and dig deep into my brain trying to recall the events of the previous night.
The last thing I remember is Hans telling me I should slow down and that I’ve had too much to drink. Not information I’m sharing with Cole. “I remember being at the club with Sam and Hans. And Charles!” I hurry to add.
“So, basically you want me to tell you what you did from the time you were at the club until the time you fell asleep?” he settles with his hands gripping the edge of the breakfast bar and I fight hard not to throw myself at him there and then.
“I’m glad we finally understand each other,” I state and very conscious of my robe-attire, carefully settle on one of the stools across from him. “And leave nothing out,” I warn him taking the cup of coffee he offers me.
“Let’s see…actually, let’s watch.” He starts a video on his phone and passes it to me. It takes me a few moments to realize the woman who’s frantically drumming over neon paint is me. I embarrassingly watch my so obviously drunk self and start to give him back the device.
“Oh, no, no. You haven’t seen the best of it yet.”
I watch again as a woman is lying on the bar and a man is having body shots from her. Yes, I’m the body and he’s doing the shots.
I stare blankly at myself slut-dancing with strangers until I take the conscious decision to skip to the end of the video. Someone knocks a guy out with a punch and leads me out of the club.
“Is that Hans?? My Hans?? He punched someone??”
Cole nods and fights to keep a straight face.
“But why?” I ask in utter astonishment.
“Some douchebag…” he starts and tries to find the right words, “let’s just say he got too close. And Hans defended your honor,” he says and chuckles.
I shoot an evil glance towards him and he quickly raises his hands in surrender.
“OK, you have the footage of the club – I’m not even gonna ask how you got that. Or why you were watching me – that’s stalking!” I accuse him.
“That’s my job,” he fends off.
“That’s an invasion of privacy!” I insist.
“It’s my club!”
I raise an eyebrow and hand him back the phone.
“And…what happened…afterwards?” I murmur over my cup.
“After that, Hans drove you home.”
“And…?”
“And you started taking off your clothes,” he replies with casualty as if that was the most normal thing for me to do. “But don’t worry, I was alone.”
“I-? You-? You just stood there watching me undress??” I verbally attack him.
“Well, not there… you came into my bedroom – and now, that’s an invasion of privacy! …And, well, your jeans were half-way off! I wasn’t sure if you were in the middle of dressing or whether you were undressing!” he says with a grin all the way to his ears.
I shove my face in my hands and shake my head in disbelief. I try to hide the embarrassment I feel but to no effect.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. It’s not like I haven’t seen women getting undressed before.”
“Oh! Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I retort sarcastically.
“No- I mean, yeah. Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re way… hotter than any woman I’ve ever seen before!”
“Great! Now, you’re comparing me with your…ladies?” sluts, I meant to say but I didn’t.
“I’m not- Look, all I’m saying is when you put on your little show-”
“My little what?”
“Your little show. You know, undressing slowly, seductively, you were all like ‘you can leave your hat on’…and it was…I mean I…well, I’m just a man! I admit I enjoyed every moment of it – even the part when you were fighting with your jeans ’cause they wouldn’t come off!”
I drag my hand over my face and into my hair.
“And, yeah, you fell down at some point, hence the bump on your forehead,” he points at the left side of my face and I trace a small swelling, evidence of my collision with something.
I recover quickly and put my fists on my hips.
“So, you did just stand there and…enjoy the show!” I put the blame on him now.
“What was I supposed to do? I stopped you after a while.”
“After a while?? Oh God!”
“Yeah, you were so angry at your pants I didn’t want to get in the middle of it!”
“Couldn’t you just-” I start frustrated again, eager to accuse him.
“Oh God, Lex, you started taking off your clothes and begged me to have sex with you!”
I freeze in place. It takes me a while to articulate a response to that.
“I… begged?”
“You really don’t remember anything?” he looks at me with true wonder.
I reluctantly shake my head and cross my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt to shelter myself.
“Well, yeah. You begged. You begged before, and you begged after. And then you begged some more. For all the times that followed,” he informs me with a smirk. And I just wanna punch the cockiness out of him. But I’m more preoccupied with registering what he’s actually saying.
/> “Wait. Did we…?”
Cole doesn’t grant me with an answer and he walks to the sink.
I follow him, stomping my feet emphatically.
I poke him on the shoulder repeatedly, hoping to leave a bruise.
“Hey! I asked you a que-”
He turns around in a flash and places me against the sink, locking me between his body and the counter. I raise my eyes to his face. He gives me a predatory look and lowers himself, closing the distance between us.
“Would you rather I reminded you of what exactly happened last night?” he whispers against my ear. I struggle to focus and snap out of the haze he’s so effectively leading me into.
“I…I…” I murmur.
“Does this ring any bells?” he says as he plants a soft kiss at the base of my neck.
A forceful tremor travels under my skin and I close my eyes savoring the moment. Could this be true? Did I actually sleep with him last night? Whatever happened to my defenses? You were utterly drunk, you moron! At that moment, I realize that sleeping with Cole, even right now this instant, might not actually be the end of the world. He obviously wouldn’t think of it twice, so, why should I?
…God, who am I kidding? All the complications that would come with giving in to him…unless…unless it’s just raw, meaningless sex. I could do that. Right? A myriad of thoughts pass through my mind in a brief moment. The bottom line is, the more I try to deny and suppress any feelings I have for him, the more intense they become, and I find myself constantly on the verge of falling.
Before I get a chance to push him away, or turn away from him, or more likely wrap my arms around him and pull him closer, he takes a few steps back.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he chuckles and shakes his head.
“It kinda hurts that you think I’m such an asshole,” he states.
I draw my eyebrows together in confusion.
“Do you really think I would do that to you?” he sounds kind of offended.
“So, are you saying that we didn’t…?”
“No, Tipsy. We didn’t.”
I thought I would be more relieved by his answer but to be honest, I’m not.