The Bad Boy’s Heart

by Holden, Blair

  “Fucker,” Cole mutters under his breath.

  “He’s crazy,” I say out loud, and Cole pounces off the sofa, heading right for the fridge and grabbing a beer. He downs it quickly, slamming the bottle on the counter.

  “Do you think that lunch is a good idea?”

  I’m not asking his permission; that’s not what this is about. I want his input; I want to include him in my decisions. This is as much about him as it is about me.

  “Of course,” Cole says, grinning mischievously, all the angst evaporating. “I’ll be right there with you; the boy band asshat needs to know you’re mine.”

  I laugh, feeling all the tension leave my body, and giddiness overcomes me at his words.

  That’s the Cole I know. However, I suddenly fear for the well-being of the McQueen family. If the older one’s got to deal with my drug-addled mother, then Drew is certainly in for the fight of his life, because he just pissed off Cole Stone.

  And you just don’t do that.

  Chapter Nine: What Do I Need to Know about Baby Dolls and Teddies?

  My fingers flex around the doorknob, a guttural instinct telling me to just go ahead and open the door, but there’s another part of me, the vindictive part that wants him to suffer just a little bit more. After all, these will be memories I’ll cherish in the future and use to blackmail him into buying me all the ice cream I could ever want.

  “Come on, Tessie,” he whines on the other side. I can picture him, his powerful body hunched against the doorframe, his forehead leaning against it. His fists will probably be clenched, and there might be a risk of him punching a hole through the wall.

  My dad can pay for that—I’ll risk it.

  “I didn’t mean to hit him, I swear.”

  Snorting, I sit down, leaning against the door and pulling my knees up to my chest. Whenever I think about that moment, all I feel is horrible, terrible embarrassment. Of course, I’d known that lunch with Drew McQueen wouldn’t exactly be a joyride, and adding Cole to the mix was an even worse idea.

  But, stupidly, I’d believed him when he said that he’d be on his best behavior, that he’d try to keep his caveman tendencies at bay. Needless to say, things did not go according to plan.

  “Were those your exact intentions when you punched him so hard, he flew over the railing?” I cringe as I say those words, the image of Drew being carried on a stretcher into the back of an ambulance making me want to crawl out of my skin. Not that the guy needed an ambulance; Cole hadn’t done any real damage, just some minor external wounds, nothing life-threatening. But if there ever was a male drama queen, it would be Drew. He’d dialed 911 faster than I could talk him out of pressing charges. So, the theatrics ensured that everything got blown way out of proportion. I wouldn’t be this annoyed with Cole if the aftermath of the entire thing wasn’t so embarrassing.

  “You know he deserved it. The guy kept talking about shit he knows nothing about.” I can practically hear the fury in Cole’s voice. He still hasn’t managed to cool down, and I’m glad that Drew’s currently in the emergency room, even if he has no reason to be there. Damn, pretty boy.

  “So? There were other ways to get him to stop. We were leaving; I told you that we’d leave and to wait till I got back from the bathroom. Imagine my surprise when I got back and found Drew clutching his jaw in agony. How’d you even hit him that fast and hard?”

  He laughs, that idiot! This is not funny; he could’ve been arrested for assault had I not groveled to Drew on the ride to the hospital. Yes, I’d been the one holding the guy’s hand as he moaned and complained about his knocked-out teeth on his way to the hospital. I definitely count it as one of the most traumatizing experiences of my life.

  “He got worse after you left, Tessie; if I hadn’t shut him up at the right time, you’d be coming back to a corpse,” he growls.

  I’m terrified to even imagine that scenario. But mostly I’m scared for Cole and hope that his parents don’t find out about this. He doesn’t need assault charges right now; Sheriff Stone would drag him to hell and back and then some. I shudder at the thought.

  Getting up, I swipe my hands on my poor, blood-stained white dress and unlock the door. Before I even get the opportunity to open the door, Cole is barging in and hauling me to his chest. His chin rests on my head as he crushes the life out of me.

  “I’m sorry, babe; I didn’t want to mess up this day for you.”

  “Don’t be cute; this is exactly what you wanted,” I mumble into his chest, and I can actually feel the smug bastard smile. He wouldn’t be smiling if he were in jail now, would he? Maybe I can hold that over his head for life. He’d be my slave for all eternity. The thought of Cole as any kind of slave turns my thoughts in the wrong direction, thoughts that are highly uncomfortable with him pressed against me like this.

  “You’re right; I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Dickhead Drew.”

  “Well, you should’ve told me you wanted him for yourself. I’d let you two be happy, no need for violence, buddy.”

  “Does the fact that you’re being sarcastic mean that we’re good?” He pulls back and tips my chin up to meet his eyes. I’m very tempted by those hypnotizing devices he calls eyes, but I stand my ground. He went too far today, and it’s not even Drew I care about. It’s him and how prone he is to self-destructing. If he’d gotten arrested…

  I pull out of his arms. “What exactly did he say to you? I mean, yeah, he was being a jerk, but what was so bad that you went all Incredible Hulk on him?”

  “Please, I’d be Batman.”

  “Don’t change the topic. What. Did. He. Say?”

  His expression darkens, and that’s when I know that Drew must have really crossed a line. I brace myself for the worst. I could call Mom or Patrick and tell them to relocate him to parts of the world unknown. But, just for a second, I do consider locking him up with Cole and letting my boyfriend do whatever the hell he pleases. The possessive part of me wants to hunt down and kill any person that’s hurt this wonderful, amazing creature.

  But this wonderful, amazing creature does have a penchant for making me a prime candidate to die young, probably due to cardiac arrest. I do have some sense of self-preservation. I can attempt to tame him, to make him see that he can’t go about beating someone nearly to death. Even if the guy is a pretentious douche bag, you just don’t do these things.

  I grab his hand and drag him to the bed. Alex, Megan, and Beth agreed to give us space, but they have probably all been camped out outside since the moment the two of us stepped inside and saw Cole’s bruised knuckles. After assuring them that nobody was dying or getting arrested, I locked myself in. It’s been around three hours since the actual incident occurred, and my phone is going crazy with all the calls from my mom. If she dares say anything about Cole or something along the lines of “I told you so,” I would lose my mind. Things might get said that neither of us could take back, so the better thing to do would be for me to ignore her calls. If only she’d get a clue.

  “Tell me, please.” We sit at the foot of the bed and I cup Cole’s cheek. His knuckles have been bandaged, courtesy of Alex. The two know how to handle situations like these, letting me know that they’ve been in more than enough fights.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore, okay? I don’t even want to think about it because if I do, I’ll end up doing some serious damage.”

  “Oh no you don’t. You are not going anywhere near the guy ever again, not on my watch.”

  He rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “He’s probably going to be spending thousands of dollars on dental work. It wasn’t pretty.” I shudder.

  “Well, now we both know he should’ve just shut up when I warned him the first time.”

  “How nice of you to pre-warn him, is that a regular practice for you?”

  He smirks. “You really want me to answer that?”

  I can almost feel a panic attack coming on at the thought of all the times Cole might have don
e something similar. Only in my head, the endings don’t go as well as planned. All I see is him lying in a ditch somewhere, a bloody, bruised mess. I’m forever the pessimist.

  “How about later? Can you promise me that when you cool down, you’ll tell me everything?”

  He sighs, flopping back down on the bed and closing his eyes. “Yeah, I promise.”

  Great, that buys me enough time to get Drew out of the country.

  ***

  “So, let me get this straight, Dickhead Drew basically attempted to get into your pants while your boyfriend was sitting at the table,” Beth asks, stopping amid painting her nails.

  The three of us are sitting at the kitchen table, all painting our nails and unwinding from a hectic day. It’s not the norm for me to watch a fistfight take place live and then take a rather adventurous trip in the back of an ambulance.

  Well, maybe it is, mostly since Cole’s come back. At least I can’t complain about having a boring relationship.

  “And he pretended that Cole wasn’t even there? Did he want to get hit?” Megan asks.

  I blow on my nails, pretending to ignore the anger rising inside me as I remember the meeting. Dickhead Drew is such an appropriate name for the guy. I’d gone to meet him in the hopes that he would persuade my mom not to interfere with my relationship. Instead he had shown as much respect for it as she had, which was basically none. He’d barely acknowledged Cole and had flirted blatantly with me. I don’t know what kind of Kool-Aid the people in New York drink, but, apparently, they don’t know what to do with boundaries when they see them. Or maybe they just tend to want to demolish them in general.

  I fume silently as I remember him kissing my cheek when Cole and I arrived. His lips had been stuck to my skin as if with semi-permanent glue, and I’d counted seconds till he’d back off. A kiss on the cheek is an acceptable form of greeting, and I’m not a complete prude, but as the afternoon progressed, he made sure to touch me in some way, making me highly uncomfortable. He’d drag his chair closer to mine, place his hand over mine when talking, and, more importantly, he ignored the fact that my boyfriend was barely restraining himself from bludgeoning him to death. We didn’t even talk about my mom; kind of funny that that was the point of the dinner. Instead Dickhead talked about himself, and then some.

  I’d excused myself to go to the bathroom, hoping that an escape route would magically appear as I pretended to retouch my makeup, but before I could tell Drew that my dog had diarrhea, I’d heard him yell in obvious pain. Chaos ensued, and I couldn’t quite get to Cole and ask him what the hell had happened in a space of ten minutes.

  “I should never have agreed to see him. My mom’s vapid enough to know that the people she hangs out with would be the same. She’s probably feeling really smug right now and can’t wait to point out that she was right about Cole.”

  “But she wasn’t; he didn’t do anything wrong. Granted, he could have gone about it in a completely different way but he was defending your honor and he shouldn’t be punished for that.” Beth glowers at me. Recently, she’s become a staunch supporter of my boyfriend, and it amuses me to no end. Sometimes I think she’s trying to make up for how badly Travis still treats Cole. My brother hasn’t completely warmed up to Cole again and there’s certainly no love lost between the two. Beth tries to balance things out a little, especially when the four of us hang out. The fact that she’s so in sync with my brother’s life makes me feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy.

  “I know that, okay? I’m not blaming Cole for anything. It’s just that this tendency of his to get violent scares the shit out of me. I don’t want him to get into trouble and ruin his life. He’s been to prison at least once since I’ve known him and…”

  “Oh, but I really wanted to see Jay get beaten up at some point. Isn’t that the bright side in all of this?”

  Megan looks at us expectantly and we burst out laughing, the tension dissolving easily. Maybe I need to stop stressing and just be grateful that I intervened before things got out of hand and that Cole isn’t going to jail. My mother’s opinion stopped mattering to me around the time she decided that being overweight made you the equivalent of a second-class citizen. There’s no reason why what she thinks of Cole should be of any importance and that’s that.

  ***

  Alex has taken Cole out to blow off some steam, and by now, it’s pretty dark outside. We haven’t really gotten an opportunity to talk since our last conversation, and I don’t know if he’s ready to tell me what happened. A part of me is scared to think that someone Mom purposefully placed in my life could be so vile, but the other part wants to know so if I ever run into the woman again, I can tell her to keep her flings and their spawn far away from me.

  We’ve decided to leave New York in a day or two; no one’s really in the mood to do the tourist thing, and we’ve done the bar crawling. We haven’t planned the next destination; it’s all supposed to be spontaneous, but I’m majorly stressed that this isn’t what Cole and I need right now. It’s been a tumultuous couple of days; we’ve gone from not having a relationship to going full throttle. This fight today, and the meeting with my mom have put unneeded doubts into our heads and now Cole feels like he’s got something to hide…

  “He said I was dragging you down.”

  Startled at the sudden sound of his voice, I sit up. I’d been lying on my back on the bed waiting for him to come back. Cole looks deliciously rumpled, hot, even, in his tiredness. His T-shirt is creased, his hair a mess, circles under his eyes, but he’s still the kind of beautiful that breaks your heart.

  And now he’s going to tell me what’s been eating at him.

  “What?”

  He sighs and flops down next to me on the bed, taking my hand in his. His thumb traces circles over the back of my hand.

  “Dickhead kept flirting with you, which was enough to make me want to tear his head off, but I didn’t want to ruin this thing with your mom before it really got a chance, right? But he was pushing my buttons; he wanted me to fight him. Even when I punched him he had this smug look on his face, like I was doing exactly what he wanted me to do.”

  “That asshole,” I mutter.

  “He made sure to let me know that I was the scum of the earth, and that my being with you would only end up with you spiraling into this pit of doom. I tried to not let it get out of control but the guy’s fucked up and the things he kept saying about you? He needed to shut up and I just happened to be there.”

  “You’re editing and omitting a lot right now, aren’t you?”

  “I can basically see the steam coming out of your ears, babe; I’ll spare the man whatever it is you’re planning to do to him.”

  He’s right; I’m furious. I’m sick and tired of judgement and of people interfering in our relationship. We’re still being careful with each other, still figuring out how to go back to being us and the last thing that I need is for a self-righteous prick like Drew to make things more complicated.

  “He’s not worth it. The sooner we put this nightmare behind the better, I’m not letting my mom think she’s won in some twisted way.”

  He chuckles. “I had no idea she disapproved of me that much. Do I need to dress up like a preppy asshole to get her to like me? Because you know I’d do that.”

  I hit his arm playfully. “Shut up. It doesn’t matter to me. I know who you are; I know you, Cole. What my mom thinks, what anyone thinks, it doesn’t matter.”

  He cups my cheek and leans in, his lips ghosting over mine. “I love how you’re so defensive when it comes to me. It’s a huge turn-on.” He grins and presses his lips softly to mine. My breath hitches and I kiss him back, softly at first, almost revering, but then frantically as it progresses, until my hands are grasping fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him to me. He cups the nape of my neck with one hand, the other still at my cheek, tilting my face to give the right angle. The stress of the day fades away as we attempt to lose ourselves in each other. We kiss until my lips start to ache, un
til it becomes difficult to breathe, and even then, we pull away, only to find each other’s lips again. It’s magical; that’s what it is.

  “It’s so good with you,” he says gruffly, now kissing my jaw. “Everything feels so much…”

  “More, it feels more,” I say breathlessly, and as I say those words, I’m filled with a certain kind of conviction. Something seems to have clicked, like a hazy picture suddenly becoming visible in high definition. Right now, at this moment, I know that I’m ready.

  I’m ready to take that next step with him, not just physically but with everything I’ve got. A part of me will always be scared of getting hurt like I had been before, but a bigger part knows that this is the guy. The guy who is it for me and that if ever he’s not with me anymore, then every man who comes after him will need to match the standards he’s set.

  My heartbeat skyrockets as the epiphany settles in. I want to tell him, tell him that I trust him completely and that I can now give myself to him without any fears or insecurities. But today’s been eventful enough without me dropping this bomb. Besides, it deserves a special occasion, preferably an occasion where we’re alone.

  “Hey,” he asks, kissing my cheek. “Where’d you go?”

  I smile, blushing at the directions my thoughts had taken. Hopefully, he won’t be able to pick up on it. “I’m just really ridiculously happy right now; that’s all.”

  He pulls me into his lap, cradling me in his arms. “I know the feeling.”

  ***

  “This has got to be the single most embarrassing moment of my life.” I moan and squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I can imagine that I’m not in a lingerie store with my best friends pressing all kinds of skimpy underwear to my body, I’ll be able to get out of this alive.

  “Shush, this is going to be like the most important moment in your life. You need the right attire,” Beth reprimands. She’s got a scrap of black lace in her hand that she seems to think will cover my chest and torso.