by Amelia Wilde
Tahl’s face is scrunched up. “What the hell is that supposed to be?”
“A unicorn cock. Get it?” Lennon smiles wide. “Apply within?” She winks.
“I don’t even know what that is,” Tahlia says.
“It’s the cock that ruins you for all other cocks. Right, Whit?” She’s giving me those eyes like now is the perfect time to divulge my secret. Is she crazy? Wait. I already know the answer to that.
“Yeah, I guess.” I reach forward and grab my own shot glass, downing it in one gulp. The taste reminds me of the night I met Cole and only serves to make me feel that much guiltier for not being forthcoming with Tahlia.
“Oh,” Tahl says. “I wouldn’t know.” She’s looking down at her hands on the table.
Lennon and I exchange a concerned glance and then look over to our friend.
“Is everything okay, Tahl?” I ask.
“Yeah, you don’t exactly seem like the blushing bride these days,” Lennon adds.
Tahlia reaches for one of the glasses and brings it to her mouth to take a sip. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, everything is fine, it’s just… I have so much pressure on me at work. And there’s a million decisions to be made for the wedding. I thought Chase would be more hands-on than he has been and so everything is falling to me to handle. My mother… well, you know my mother. She’s so concerned that I’m going to embarrass her by not choosing the right food, the right cake, or the right invitations. And the wedding planner she hired is making me batshit crazy. That old broad wouldn’t know class if you hit her over the head with it. I mean, who suggests peach as the accent color for a wedding? It’s not 1986. I have no idea how she came so highly recommended. I’ve just got a lot going on. I’m sure once all these decisions are out of the way I’ll feel better about it all. It’s just not how I pictured planning my wedding to be.” She takes a deep breath and leans back in her seat, seeming to relax a little at being able to vent and get her frustrations all out.
Lennon and I are both quiet for a minute before we say anything. I think we’re both in shock. I’ve never heard Tahlia speak so much at once.
“Maybe you should postpone the wedding,” I offer. “So you have more time to get everything done.”
Tahl gives a caustic laugh. “Are you kidding? Everyone knows it’s supposed to be this spring. My mom would never allow it. People would think there’s trouble between Chase and me.”
I glance over at Lennon, urging her to say what I’m sure we’re both thinking. She takes the hint.
“Is there trouble with you guys?”
Tahlia whips her head up, her eyes narrowing.
Lennon puts her hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m not implying there is. I’m only asking because you seem so stressed out lately and you’ve lost that la-la look you used to get on your face whenever you mentioned Chase.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tahl responds and lifts her glass to take another drink.
“Please. If I put a cartoon of you on my shirt you’d be this wisp of a blonde thing with hearts in her eyes, her hands clenched to her chest.”
Tahl’s shoulders sag a bit before she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.
“You know you can talk to us,” I say, now really concerned that Lennon’s hit on something here.
“Things are fine between us. When we see each other. Which isn’t a lot these days. He’s usually busy with his family’s business, or I am. Or I’m trying to nail down decisions about the wedding that he doesn’t seem all that interested in weighing in on. But that’s probably normal, right?” She looks between Lennon and I with a hopeful expression. “I mean, what guy really wants to be involved in picking color schemes or which trim to cut the invitations in?”
“In my experience, just the gay ones,” Lennon says.
A small smile plays on Tahl’s lips.
“You two are just under a lot of pressure right now. You both have so much going on. I’m sure once this passes you’ll be back to your usual selves.” I reach forward and squeeze her hand.
“Yeah, you’re right. Getting married is a lot of pressure for anyone, but with the two families we come from it’s even worse. We just need to get through this planning stage and then we’ll be good.”
“Glad that dilemma is solved,” Lennon says and then fires back a shot without flinching. “Now, I’m dying to know what you girls think of my Tickled Pink vibrator!”
Tahlia and I exchange a glance.
I’m not sure what to say because I haven’t tried it. I can’t get the image of Sparky with it between his teeth out of my head. The vision isn’t exactly conducive to becoming aroused, but I can’t bring up that entire fiasco in front of Tahl.
“You guys have tried it, right?” Lennon asks, her hands pressed to the table in front of her.
“I haven’t yet. I’m sorry.” I grimace as she shakes her head in mock disappointment at me. It’s hard to get worked up over a vibrator with a dog’s teeth marks in it.
“What about you, Tahl?” Lennon crosses her arms over her chest.
“I’ve been travelling and I’m not going to take something like that with me. What if security wants to search my luggage at the airport?”
I giggle because Tahlia looks beside herself at the thought.
“How am I supposed to improve my design and secure more investors if I can’t tell people it’s tried, tested, and true?”
“I promise I will give it a go this week, okay?” Tahl says.
I nod in agreement. I’ll need to call Lennon on the side to let her know the fate of the pink sex toy she gave me.
“I want you each to report back.” She raises her hand to catch the bartender’s eye. When he looks over at us she holds up the empty shot glass and wiggles it side to side. Like a good bartender, he understands the non-verbal signal and winks at her before turning to grab some empty shot glasses from the shelf behind him.
“Did you ever sleep with him that night?” I ask.
“What night?” Tahlia asks.
“When you were out of town we came here for drinks and Lennon was determined to take him home.”
Tahl nods, unaffected, because this is not an uncommon occurrence for our friend.
“Of course I did.” Lennon takes a sip of her drink and sets it down. “Then I gave him that awesome tat you see on his forearm.”
We both glance over and spot the tattoo in question as he’s pouring liquid fire into a shot glass.
“Nice,” I say. Not because we’re friends but because Lennon is amazing at what she does.
“Well. How was it?” Tahlia asks.
Lennon shrugs. “Not bad. Eight out of ten. Worth repeating.”
“I guess we’ll have to make sure each other gets home okay tonight then,” I say to Tahlia. “Sounds like Lennon’s busy later.”
“Here’s hoping.” Lennon raises her glass and we all follow suit. “May we get what we want. May we get what we need. But may we never get what we deserve.”
We all laugh and clink our glasses together.
It’s good to have some time with just the three of us. Even if the guilt I feel from keeping something from one of my best friends is eating away at the pit of my stomach.
After we’ve all taken a sip of our drinks and set them back down Tahl scoots out of the booth. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
She’s barely out of earshot before Lennon pounces.
“Are you still going to tell her about Cole?”
My eyes dart to the hallway that Tahlia just entered to make sure she’s not headed back this way. “I don’t see how I can. You heard her earlier. You saw her all day. I think she’s at her breaking point. What do you think?”
Lennon runs her hands through her chin-length black hair and then fluffs it up a bit. “I hate the fact that we know something she doesn’t, but with her state of mind right now I honestly don’t know how she’d react.”
I take a large swallow of my drink.
“I don’t want to be responsible for ruining what’s supposed to be one of the happiest times in her life.”
“Doesn’t seem like that’s the case anyway.”
“I know. That’s my point. I’m worried about her.” I bite my bottom lip.
Lennon focuses on the glass she’s spinning around in her hands before she answers. “Me, too.”
“I think I should wait. She has some strong opinions about Cole. I’d be surprised if she was happy about the news.”
“Fine. But you can’t wait too long. Sooner or later it’s going to come out and it’ll be a thousand times worse if she finds out from someone other than you.”
I nod, knowing she’s right, but still feeling like I’m caught between two pieces of bread in a shit sandwich.
28
I lie tangled in Cole’s bed sheets with one leg draped over his, my front pressed into his side, while we lazily watch Game of Thrones. We do a lot of this after we’ve had sex. Almost like we don’t want to leave the scene of the crime—or the orgasm, as it were. Well, orgasms, plural.
“How are you feeling about your big meeting?” I ask.
“Good,” he says, wiggling under me.
We’ve been counting down until the day that Cole meets with the national distributor and now that we’re less than a week out he seems to be getting more and more nervous every time I bring it up.
“Do you think you’re prepared?”
His fingertips brush up and down my upper arm a few times. “As much as I can be. I’ve got all my figures and projections pulled together. We’ve laid out a plan of how we’re going to produce enough product, should we be successful and have to supply to bars and restaurants across the nation.”
“Well, I for one think you are going to nail your meeting.” I turn my head and press my lips to his chest for good luck. I don’t think that’s really a thing—kissing bare chests for good luck—but it totally should be. I’ll take any excuse I can to get my lips on this man.
“Thank you. I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I am. I’m always right.”
“Is that so?” He chuckles and the rich, deep sound reverberates through his chest into my ear. I smile.
Cole’s hand trails a path down my arm, onto my hip and then dips between my legs. I suck in a breath when his fingers coast back and forth over my clit.
“Hmm, already so wet for me.”
When aren’t I? I swear I’m perpetually wet and ready for this man.
I spread my legs apart a little more to give him better access and allow my eyes to drift closed. He works his fingers back and forth and back and forth before one of them breaches my entrance. I suck in a breath and rock my hips, urging him to continue.
The vibrating of his phone interrupts my happy thoughts and Cole lets out a sigh and draws his hand away.
“To be continued,” he says, dropping a kiss on the top of my head and rolling away from me to step out of bed. I watch him make his way across his bedroom to where his phone rests on his dresser, fascinated by the way the muscles in his perfect ass clench while he walks.
He lifts his phone up and looks at who’s calling and a crease forms in the middle of his forehead. He hits the button to take the call.
“Hey, Steph. What’s up?”
I now know that Steph is the blonde woman who bartends for him at the Thirsty Monk. The one woman who always gives me that predatory vibe where Cole is concerned.
He listens to her speak for a few seconds before responding. “Calm down. I’m sure it’s nothing. You’re positive? Uh-huh. Okay. Hang tight. Don’t worry. No, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”
His gaze snaps over to mine and I mask the sharp pain in my chest over his comment. She’s obviously upset about something—maybe he’s just trying to make her feel better.
“Yep. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hits end on the call and blows out a big breath before coming to sit beside me on the edge of the bed. “I have to go.”
“Yeah, I gathered as much. Problem at the bar?” Maybe I’m asking to be conversational because it seems like the logical thing to say, but deep down I know I’m asking because I feel insecure. Which I hate.
“Not exactly.”
Okay. I’ll be honest. That answer doesn’t instill much confidence in me.
“I shouldn’t be too long. Why don’t you stick around and I’ll make dinner for us when I get back?”
“You don’t mind me being in your place by myself?”
“Of course not.”
That eases some of my lingering uneasiness.
He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips then rises from the bed to start getting dressed.
“I need to jump online and check out the job ads anyway. I’ll take care of that while you’re gone.”
He nods as he lifts his jeans up to his hips, seeming a little preoccupied now. Another couple of minutes pass and he’s fully dressed and walking over to me on the bed.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” We kiss and moments later I hear the door to his place close and I’m left sitting in the middle of his big bed alone, feeling none of the warmth I usually do.
Hours later I’ve scoured every online job site known to man, applied to a few that I’m more than qualified for, and I’m resting on the living room couch watching Sunday afternoon TV. Which is to say watching my third episode of Storage Wars. I stopped on this channel for a second just to check it out and somehow, I blink and it’s three episodes later.
I hear something and I mute the TV. It sounds like a phone vibrating, so I hurry into Cole’s bedroom thinking it’s mine. I realize when I get there that it’s Cole’s phone ringing on the dresser. He must have forgotten it when he left in a rush. I don’t pick it up, but I walk over to it and see the name Nadia flashing on the screen. Something about seeing the name of another woman on my… hell, I don’t even know what to call him—my boyfriend, fuck buddy, friend with benefits? Whatever, something about seeing another woman’s name on his phone lights a fire in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t recognize the name and yes, she could be one of his employees whom I’ve never met, but something doesn’t sit right in my gut about the whole situation. First Cole gets called out in the middle of the day by Steph for some reason he didn’t seem too eager to divulge to me and now another woman I’ve never heard of is blowing up his phone.
The vibrating stops and a minute later a message appears on the screen, indicating that he has a new voice mail.
Before I can figure out how I want to handle this I hear the door to the condo open and Cole’s heavy footsteps enter.
“Whit? You still here?”
I come walking out of the bedroom with what I’m hoping is a genuine-looking smile. “Right here.”
“Sorry I was gone so long.” His easy-going mood from earlier is gone and he seems tense and on edge. He has frown lines between his brows and the sparkle in his eyes has dimmed a fraction.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my body.
I lean into him and enjoy the cadence of his heartbeat in his chest, the soft feel of his shirt against my cheek. “Maybe I should go. You have your big meeting first thing in the morning. I don’t want to be in the way.”
He pulls away and looks down at me. “No. I want you to stay. Please?”
I study him for a moment. Something happened when he was gone. What I have no idea. But this isn’t the same man who left six hours ago. “You sure?”
He nods and tucks a section of hair behind my ear. “Positive.”
“Okay,” I near-whisper.
I decide not to press him for answers and I’d like to say that it’s because I’m confident he’ll tell me when he’s ready, but the reality is that a part of me doesn’t want to know.
We’ve got a good thing going here and I’m not eager to mess it up. That makes sense, right?
I’m awoken by the
sound of my cell phone vibrating on the night stand beside me. At first, I moan and roll over, enjoying the vestiges of sleep too much to want to wake from my slumber.
But it begins vibrating again almost immediately. This time I crack my eyes open as much as they’re able. The room is filled with a soft morning light. It’s apparent that it’s early, probably somewhere around dawn.
Who the hell would be calling me right now?
I reach out for my phone and tilt the screen toward me. It takes a moment for my eyes to focus. The sight of my grandparents’ contact info sends a spike of fear straight through me. My pulse picks up immediately and I sit straight up in bed and slide my finger to answer.
“Hello?” Though my mind now feels alert, my voice hasn’t caught up yet and still retains that raspy just-woken quality.
“Whitney? Oh, my dear.” My grandma’s voice sounds frightened and panicked and it dawns on me in the way that strange things do in a time of crisis that I’ve never heard her sound so afraid, even when Sparky chased the Jehovah’s Witness who knocked on our door down the street.
“Grandma, what’s wrong?”
“I’m on my way to the hospital. I had to call an ambulance.” She breaks down and I picture her standing all alone in the middle of the kitchen, clutching the phone tight.
“Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. Your grandpa got up in the middle of the night, I guess. I found him passed out in the hallway, blood pouring from his head.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth while she speaks and tears threaten to spill from my eyes.
“Are you still waiting for the ambulance?” I ask once I’ve removed my hand.
“They’re just getting him in the ambulance now and we’re headed to the emergency room.”