by Hannah Gray
“What’s that, bud?” Weston peers around Knox at me. “Tell me quickly before I go cut my own ears off.” He nods to the stage. “This chick sucks ass so bad. I might actually go jump off the roof.”
Knox turns his head toward him and glares. “Fuck off. She isn’t that bad.”
Sloane attempts a high note, and holy fuck, my head hurts.
Knox sighs. “All right, she’s awful.” Punching Weston’s arm, he shrugs. “But I’m bettin’ it took a lot for her to get her sexy ass up there. So, be nice. None of us have the balls to do it.”
“Yeah, that’s why I came over here,” I tell them, taking a swig from the beer the bartender just dropped off. “Ally says we need to be nice and act like she did good. So, spread the word.” I smirk. “If not, Ally will probably have all of our dicks pulverized by midnight.”
Saluting me, they both nod in agreement.
“You got it, Cap.” Weston taps his beer against mine.
“Her voice might suck, but her dancing is fucking hot.” Knox whistles under his breath. “That fucking black dress is sexy.”
She does have moves, making this show a little less unfortunate. It also isn’t fair that she had to sing after Ally. That right there set her up for failure.
“So much for her being up your ass, pussy,” I tease him. “Seems like it might be the opposite, huh?”
He flicks me off and grumbles something. He makes it too easy to give him shit.
Ally is gone from the spot she was in earlier. I’m just about to go looking for her when a big commotion on the dance floor breaks out. Standing up, I push myself through the crowd. I don’t need anyone accidentally hitting my girl.
Only, when I find the fight, I realize, it is my girl.
A big, preppy guy grabs his nose as bright red blood pours out of it, covering his white polo. “You fucking bitch! You broke my nose!”
Holding her arms up at her sides, one eyebrow arched, she only shrugs. “I told you to get your grubby fucking hands off of me not once, but twice. If your dumbass chose not to listen, well then, that now crooked-as-fuck nose is all on you, homeboy.”
“What the fuck?! You’re psychotic! It’s my fucking nose!”
She smirks. “Oh, sweetheart. We all know you weren’t headed for a life of modeling anyhow. You have to be attractive for that.”
Anger fills every ounce of his face along with humiliation. Before he can say anything else, I interfere.
“Ally, what the fuck happened?” I grip her hips and pull her behind me.
Before she can answer, I turn my attention to the poor bastard whose nose is most definitely broken. I can feel the veins bulging in my neck after hearing Ally’s words about what this fucker did.
“What the fuck is going on here, fuckface?” I growl. “Did you put your hands on my girl? After she asked you not to?”
Recognition flashes in his eyes. Holding his hands up, he shakes his head and looks like he might shit his pants. “Cole Storms, sorry, man. I didn’t know she was your girl.”
Stepping closer, I point my finger in his face. “Doesn’t really matter if she’s mine or not, asshole. A woman tells you to back off, you back. The. Fuck. Off,” I roar. “But yeah, because she is mine, you really fucked up.”
“I, uh … dude, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry,” he rambles on. Nose still flowing like a goddamn river.
Ally must have clocked him good.
“You so much as look at her again, I’ll bury you. Got it?” I glare at him before gripping his shirt and shoving him toward the Exit sign, landing him right on his ass. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Normally, I’d light his ass up for touching my girl, but it looks like she had that covered.
He stumbles backward before taking off. He wasn’t any smaller than me, but I know I could have taken him. Especially when it comes to my girl. I could easily defeat a thousand men if it involved my angel.
Turning around, I see Ally storming off.
Great, I’ve gone and pissed her off again.
And I don’t even know what the fuck I did.
Ally
Pushing out through the door, I walk out onto the sidewalk.
“Ally,” Cole’s deep voice says from behind me.
Whipping around, I point my finger at the ground. “I had it handled. You don’t always need to swoop in and make a damn scene.” My voice begins to rise. “What the fuck is it with men needing to wave their dick around to prove whose more of a badass? Jesus fucking Christ.”
He does something even more annoying. He laughs. He fucking laughs!
“Trust me, babe, I could tell you had it handled.” Running his hand up the back of his neck, he rests it on the top of his head thoughtfully. “I think everybody in there with eyes saw you had it handled. Hence the fucking flood. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Al, they’ll probably need to hire someone just to clean that shit up.”
“Not my problem,” I quip back. “Guess he should have kept his sweaty-ass hands to himself, huh?” Letting out a groan, I sigh in frustration. “Either way, I had it handled, Cole!”
“Sweet thing, standing in the shadows, letting you take care of shit all on your own—well, that isn’t how this works.” Stepping up to me, he tilts my chin up forcefully. “And I think you ought to know that by now.”
“You’re the most impossible human being on the planet, Cole Storms.”
“Yeah.” He nips my lips playfully. “But you love me anyway. Let’s get the hell out of here. Any more singers like your friend, and I’ll likely let you cut off my ears.”
Swatting at him, I point my finger. “Be nice. She’s a good friend to me.”
“Sweetheart, that’s great and all. But it doesn’t make up for the fact that her voice sounded similar to that time I heard a rabbit screaming in the woods behind my house.”
Pouting, I shove him. “That’s sad. Rabbits do that when they are being killed.”
He widens his eyes and puts his mouth in a line. “Well, your friend sounded like she was slaughtering a pack of wild turkeys.”
Throwing his arm around me, he drags me closer to him. “Let’s go make sure the turkey murdering herself is all right to drive home, and then I can take you back to my place. Oh, and, Ally?”
“Yes?”
“For future reference, don’t put up a fight when I defend you. That’s a bad girl.”
Turning, I lock eyes with him. “Then, punish me.”
He grins. “I can’t. You’d like that too much,” he says against my ear, causing my entire body to tingle.
Maybe I am hot and cold. And maybe he is overbearing. I can’t deny this gravitational pull that we have with each other. I’m not dumb. I know even an ocean couldn’t keep us apart.
I need to keep him close enough for me to survive but far enough for him to not find out the truth about the day that I left.
twenty-one
Ally
Two Years Before
“Twenty questions?” I ask Cole sweetly.
We’ve been together for four years now. I know him inside and out. I know his body, I know his heart, and I know his soul. But one thing he’s always kept sort of hidden is his mind.
“Tell you what, angel. I’ll give you five.”
“Fine,” I huff.
Five is better than nothing, I suppose.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if our parents had been normal?” I ask Cole as I lean against him while we sit with our legs dangling off the bridge up the road from our house.
“Nah,” he says, throwing a rock in the water. “Wondering won’t change it, Al.”
I bite my lip and nod. “I know. I just … can’t help but wonder. That’s all.”
He gives me a knowing smile. “I know. But if my dad hadn’t been an addict, I wouldn’t have ever met you. And if I hadn’t met you … I don’t want to even imagine that.”
I jab his chest lightly. “Laying it on thick, aren’t you, Stormy?”
; “Just for you, babe.” He winks.
“Do you ever miss them? Your parents?”
Leaning back on his hands, he shrugs. “I didn’t know my mom. And my dad? Well, that man, like I’ve told you before, was a piece of shit. So, no, Ally. Not one bit.”
I nod. “Do you wonder what your mom was like?” I ask this more for my own curiosity.
My dad has never been in the picture. I tried to meet him, and it was a miserable fail. Yet I still find myself wondering.
He’s quiet for a moment before looking off in the distance. “In my head, I imagine that she had sunshine hair and smelled like chocolate chip cookies. I tell myself she left because she had no choice. My dad was a nightmare.” He looks at me, his knowing eyes reading my every thought. “I tell myself these things to feel less worthless, unlovable, or damaged. But at the end of the day, I’m not the one who should be feeling any of those things, and neither are you.” Reaching over, he cups my cheeks. “Both of our parents left their kids because of something inside of them, Al. Not because of us. It had nothing to do with us.”
His answer hurts my heart. He always knows what to say to quiet my demons. The ones who make me feel everything and nothing all at once. The ones who drive me almost to the point of madness.
He’s so reasonable and rational. Unlike me.
“Two more, baby. Time’s a-wastin’.”
“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”
“I’ll be twenty-six. So, I’ll be in the NFL, for sure. And you’ll likely be a famous singer, and I’ll be the lucky son of a bitch who’s married to you.”
My smile falters as I glance at the ground. “You’ll have a lot of women throwing themselves at you and all that fame and fortune. You’ll probably forget all about me,” I say, my cheeks growing redder with each passing second.
“Never going to happen. There’s nothing I’d put before being your man. No goal, no place of arrival, no amount of money, no woman, nothing. None of that is above me and you.” He smiles as he runs his fingers down my cheek. “One more question, sweet cheeks.”
“Why did you call me the angel when we first met?” I ask the question that has always been in the back of my mind.
Standing up, he pulls me up with him and scoops me up. “Because in the darkest of my days, I prayed for you. I just didn’t know you yet. But I prayed for an angel, knowing one day, if I was patient, an angel would come.”
“An angel.” I smile.
“Yep. And I never want there to be a day when I wake up in a world where you and I are apart.” His lips kiss mine, and after, the taste of mint lingers on my lips. “Understood?”
I nod slowly, wanting to taste his lips again. “Understood.”
twenty-two
Ally
“I think you’re the only one who’s ever scrubbed the legs of the chairs,” Carla says from behind me.
Dipping the rag in the hot, soapy water, I wring it out before moving to the next leg. “Bitch, that’s clear. These things were nasssty.” I shake my head and tsk her. “You all should be ashamed.”
The kitchen door swings open, and out strolls Lenny. “I’m too old for that shit, Al. And Carla here, well, she’s too damn lazy.”
All Carla does is shrug and lift her eyebrows up. “He speaks the truth. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”
“Well, I mean, it’s slow as shit. I think we got a little time,” I deadpan.
“You’re not about to soon.” She nods her head toward the front door.
Following her eyes, I watch the door to Lenny’s push open, and in strolls Cole. A white T-shirt and faded blue jeans with a pair of Nikes on. And a ball cap that is pulled down low on his head, making my stomach do somersaults.
Pushing myself to stand, I walk over to meet him. “Hey, stranger. What are you doing here?”
He grins, those beautiful white teeth showing. “Just wanted to see my girl for a minute. Team’s heading to the airport in a few hours for our game tomorrow in Massachusetts. I wanted to kiss you good-bye.”
When I glance at our audience, Lenny quickly tries to busy himself. Pretending he wasn’t just eavesdropping the hell out of this conversation. Carla just continues to blatantly stare.
“I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“Make it forty-five, Al,” Lenny calls over his shoulder. “We won’t have our dinner rush for a few more hours anyway, and I don’t want to see Romeo here salivating over you. So, go, scoot, skedaddle.”
Knowing I won’t see Cole tonight, I don’t need to be told twice. Forty-five minutes is all I need. Hell, I would have settled for five.
“Where do you want to go?” he says as we climb into his truck.
“That pond is what, ten minutes away?”
His eyes show the smile that he tries to keep from his lips as he backs out of the parking spot, doing that incredibly sexy thing where he puts his arm on my seat.
“So, while we’re on our way there, I wanted to run something by you,” he says, flicking his gaze between the road and me.
“What’s that?” I ask anxiously.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, reading my mind. “I was talking to Coach. I asked him if he could talk to the music director and get you to sing the national anthem at our next home game.”
“Cole, you didn’t …” I say.
I feel like I’m going to puke. Doing that in high school was no big deal. We had a small school. Brooks U is huge. That’s a lot of eyes. A lot of judging eyes.
Wiggling his eyebrows, he grins. “I did. Because, babe, you love singing in front of people. I know at first, you always do this thing where you get nervous. And when you get nervous and stressed, you get bitchy. But then you fucking love it.”
I frown and point to him. “You just said I’m bitchy.”
He shrugs. Taking my hand, he presses it to his lips. “Well, sometimes, you are.”
“This was really nice of you, Cole. It means a lot, really.”
I’m nervous as shit about doing this. But he believes in me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t want me singing in front of thousands of people.
“You can repay me when we get to the pond.” He winks.
twenty-three
Cole
“Take your shirt off. Let me see all of you,” I say in between kissing her. My hands find a long lock of her hair, gripping it back.
Then, I run my hands up her bare thighs as she straddles me.
She moans, “Storm.”
When she says my name, it finally sounds like the way she used to say it.
“You’re always so ready for me. Aren’t you, baby?”
She groans before thrusting her chest in my face. Needing my mouth on her gorgeous tits.
I do what she’s silently asking, earning me a hiss as she grinds herself against me. I love how she’s always ready for me. Always wanting me.
When I glance out the window, I don’t see a soul in sight. In fact, this place is so secluded that I don’t think anyone even knows it’s here.
Pushing the driver’s door open, I carry her outside with my pants down around my ankles.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she says, excitement laced in her words.
“I’m going to do something I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to fuck you against this truck. Okay, sweetheart?”
She nods and greedily tightens her legs around my waist. Ready for more. Always.
As I push her down onto my cock, she cries out. And I’m okay with it because I know without a shadow of a doubt that we’re alone. There might be bears or ducks or some shit around, but I’m okay with them hearing her sexy sounds. As long as it isn’t another dude, I don’t really give a fuck. Because hearing her makes me that much more turned on.
As I thrust into her over and over again, all that fills the air are the sounds of our skin smacking together and her cries.
Her dark hair falls down her back, cascading in an irresistible blanket of silk for me to grab on to. Pulling it slightly, I fo
rce her head up so that her eyes connect with mine.
“I love you,” I tell her, as I’ve told her a thousand times before. And I’ll tell her thousands of times again.
Her name will be on the last breath I take on this earth. I’m sure of it.
“I love you,” she whispers back.
I drive myself in as deep as I can. Moving my hands down, I grip her ass, pushing her onto me harder.
She bites her bottom lip, her eyebrows pulling together as she does. “Cole.”
“You there?”
She nods.
“I’m here too, baby. Right fucking here.”
That’s all it takes for us to finish together.
And I wish like hell I could do it again. But looking at the clock, I realize she’s got to get the fuck back to Lenny’s. Fast.
Sex with her, as many times as it happens, will never not leave me wanting more. It’s far from just being intimate—I know this much. It’s a spiritual fucking awakening. It’s two souls connecting in more ways than one. And more than anything, it’s my fucking addiction.
“Wait.” Ally’s eyes stare at the tattoo on my back—of the angel who looks like her—before I get my shirt over my head. “I’ve always loved this tattoo. You never did tell me why you got it though,” she says softly, running her hand over the ink.
Turning around to face her, I pull her to stand between my legs, and I lean my back against my truck. “Because the thought of you, my angel, is what got me through, Ally. Then, before, and now.”
“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me? For leaving you?”
I laugh. “I mean, the way we’ve been fucking, I thought that was a given.”
“Fucking and forgiveness are two very different things, Cole,” she says, leveling me with a hard look. “Have you actually forgiven me?”
“I am working on it,” I tell her truthfully. “I really am.”
It would help if she told me why she left me. I think that would give me the closure that I need to let the past stay in the past. But she dances around the truth about that day like she’s doing the fucking do-si-do.