by Jo Raven
Matt laughs. “I say worse things all the time. Leave your brother be.”
Octavia gives a long-suffering sigh.
“It’s part of my role as an uncle,” I mutter. “Shaking things up from time to time. You can’t take it away from me. Not fair.”
“You always were a bit of a troublemaker,” Mom says. She serves her man, Paul Nelson by name, another spoonful of her famous beef stew, and he smiles at her, clearly smitten.
Good for him. Mom is great, even if she’s fattening him up. I hope she stops while he can fit through the door.
“A troublemaker, was he?” Jarett asks, smirking.
I shrug and shove a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth.
“Like that time when you opened your sisters’ underwear drawers and poured honey all over them, to make them sweet. Do you remember?” Mom goes on.
“Um. Not really.”
“And then tried to lick them all.”
“Guess I always had a thing for girl undies.” I make a face. “Christ. Not my sisters’, obviously. That was a mistake.”
“You were only four,” Octavia says.
“Oh, you were a handful,” Mom adds.
“Uncle Merc was a handful?” Cole lifts his small fist and shakes it. “Like this?”
“Just like that, buddy,” I mutter. “A big handful of trouble.”
“Or that time when he dressed as a ghost and scared our poor old neighbor half to death,” Octavia joins in. “Mrs. Conrad never got over it.”
“That’s not why she moved away,” I mutter darkly.
“She never greeted us again until she left,” Gigi beams at me. “A good thing. I could never stand that woman.”
“Or like the night he vanished.”
“Say what?” I put my fork down and stare at my mom who’s gazing lovingly at Mr. Nelson. Not even that is disturbing enough to break through my shock. “I vanished?”
“Well, yes. You know, that time Octavia had a sleepover at a friend’s, and I took the opportunity to visit my friend Betsy who lived a town over. Left you with our neighbor—not Mrs. Conrad—and came back to find you covered in mud, mute, and Gigi hysterical.”
“I can’t remember.” I glance at Gigi. She’s fallen silent. “Mute?”
My headache spikes, a hot poker pushing behind my eyes. I have an image of a silver swan flashing, blinding, and blood spreading in water in crimson plumes.
Acid rises in my throat.
Pushing back my chair, I stagger out of the room, heading blindly for the bathroom. I shut and lock the door, and then I proceed to lose my dinner.
What the fuck, right?
Chapter Ten
Cosima
“Cosie,” my sister says. “Can we talk?”
I’m on my knees in front of my suitcase, gathering and folding my stuff, trying not to think. “Can we not?”
“Come on. Are you mad at me?”
I consider this. Decide to deflect. “You’re back in town, taking care of your business. You don’t need me here.”
“Cos… I got worried when you vanished yesterday. Why didn’t you return my calls?”
“Maybe I needed some time to myself.”
Time to feel sorry for myself, more like, to hide away, in coffee shops and the movie theater, the same thoughts whirling inside my head.
Soph tugs on her bangs, puts her hands on her hips and nods. “Does it have to do with that boy?”
I freeze in the process of folding a pair of black jeans. “What boy?”
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb with me. The boy who came and talked to me yesterday, asking what my name is.”
“He did what?” I blink, letting the blouse I’d been folding fall into my open suitcase. “Who?”
She huffs, ambles over and sits down on the sofa beside me. “Merc.”
“Why didn’t you ever say you knew him?”
“What was there to say? We’re in Calculus class together. That’s all.”
“That’s all? You share a class with the hottest guy alive, and you don’t care?”
“Cos… I barely know him. Can’t remember his name most of the time.”
“So you didn’t… you haven’t slept with him?”
She gapes at me. “You serious? Knowing how I feel about Griffin?”
“I meant, you know. Earlier?”
“Nope. Never. He’s not my type.”
“Super-hot guys are not your type?” I mutter, trying to hide the wave of relief washing through me.
“Oh shut up.” She grins. “You like him, huh?”
Like? That’s the understatement of the year. “Maybe.”
“He’s the brother of Gigi Watson.”
“Am I supposed to know who that is?”
“She’s at my college. Looks a lot like him, in fact. All the girls were talking about how she’s dating an ex-con who’s also a hottie.”
Right.
“I hadn’t realized until I accepted his friend request on Facebook. Brother of Gigi Watson, aka Augusta Watson. Griffin once said she was pretty, and we had a fight over that.”
I wince. “Oh, Soph…”
“I was so stupid.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was. Griff is… different from other guys. I should have realized.”
Giving in, I put my arm around her and pull her against me. “You mean, like, an asshole?”
“Cos! No, that’s not it.” She makes a disgruntled face, and I let her go. “I shouldn’t have left him. I misunderstood so many things. And then he got sick.”
“That’s not something you could have foreseen.”
It’s what brought her back to him. I wonder what would have happened otherwise.
“Cherish every moment. That’s what I failed to do. That was what proved me stupid. Cherish the moment, Cos. Go after the guy you want.”
“Yes, Master Yoda.”
She laughs a little. “Crap, sorry. I know I’m the last person who should hand out love advice…”
“Shush.”
“He gave me his number to give to you. Merc, that is. He’s looking for you, Cos. He thought I was you. But it’s not me he wants.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She sighs, rests her head on my shoulder. “Don’t be dense, sis.”
“What? He came to you, didn’t he? And you’re the prettier one.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t whatever me. Look at you, with your feminine dresses and college classes and the love of your life. I dropped out of college, don’t have a home, and don’t even bother to wear make-up—”
“Cos, you’re making fun of me.” When I open my mouth to set her straight, she goes on, “You know why you dropped out of college, why you never settled down. You protected me from Mom’s fits for years, and then when it all went to hell, you were there for me. You’ve been helping me for the past year. You take no time for yourself.”
I find I don’t have anything to say, after all.
“Call that boy,” she says. “I know you want to.”
I sigh, squeeze her more tightly. “Love ya.”
“Love ya more.” She’s silent for a few beats, then lifts her head. “Will you call him?”
That is the question of the day.
“You sure about that?” Lin asks when I call her the next day to say I may not be going back right away. “Didn’t you call me yesterday crying that he’s in love with your sister?”
I might have done that.
Hey, it was a bad day.
“I’m not sure, no. But I was wrong… I think. No way to know until I meet him again face to face.”
And I have a friend request on Facebook, too, from WhatTheMerc.
That made me grin despite myself. For real, Merc? But above all, it made me glad because he’s trying. He shows he wants to find me, meet me.
Get into your panties again, that’s what he wants, I tell myself.
But it’s hard not to recall his
sweet smile, not to remember that sense of rightness when he held me.
When he fucked me, God. That was phenomenal. My body clenches with desire at the memory, and I can’t help but wonder how it can be between us, how good it can be.
The sex, at least.
Good sex is important, right?
But sex isn’t everything. I don’t know what I’m thinking. What I want.
“Then by all means, stay,” Lin is saying. “My guest room has your name on it whenever you want to come back. Just… be careful, girl. Remember your resolution about men.”
“I do.”
“You know the drill. You know the rule. Don’t fall for him. Just don’t. Not until you’re sure he’s not yanking your chain so he can have a good time and move on.”
“Yeah.” I swallow a sigh. “Thanks, Lin.”
She’s right. No more falling headfirst into the deep. Besides, hot sex or not, I need to learn to manage my expectations. Work on separating hot sex from feelings.
I look at the phone number written on a slip of paper, in big, bold letters. Look at his friend request online.
Should I take the chance?
He’s been haunting my dreams, after all. Those dark dreams, and the hot fantasies that have me waking up writhing and tangled up in my sheets.
He still has to explain why he stood me up that time. That’s the promise I made to myself, my resolution, that I won’t let guys walk all over me again.
But I need to stop running and face him, face this between us.
I click “accept” on his request and see the information on his profile appear—photos, posts, his birthday date, where he went to school.
I study his smiling face on a series of photos featuring plenty of people I’ve never seen before. A blond girl is often with him, but she looks so much like him I bet it’s his sister. The tag reads AugWatson, so that’s a good bet.
On a whim, I send her a friend request.
Then I log off and dial his number before I lose my nerve, not sure if I want him to pick up or not. My hand is shaking, sweat is dripping down my back.
Here we go…
His smooth, low voice says, “Hello?” and I take a deep breath.
“It’s me. Cosima.”
A sigh drifts down the line to me. “What took you so long?”
And that makes me smile. “Can we talk?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He sounds tired, but I think I hear an answering smile in his voice. “I wanna see you, Cosima.”
My heart turns over. I bite down on my lower lip not to moan or ask him to say my name again. “Me too. Do you have classes tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Lit class. I finish at midday. Wanna meet then?”
I do a little jig of joy in my sister’s living room, complete with fist pumping. “Yeah, sure.”
“See you then, pretty girl,” he says warmly, and it’s official.
This boy will be my downfall.
It turns out my sister is leaving again today to spend time with Griffin, so she’s grateful I’m staying, and I’m pleased it worked out so well.
Even if my stomach is all twisted up with nerves. I feel like a schoolgirl on her first day at school, or a virgin at her first sight of a dick.
Yeah. That bad. I mean, I had sex with the guy. Brutal, savage, great sex. Oh God… I’m wet and horny just thinking about it, and I smooth down my short skirt for the twentieth time. I admit I took my time dressing this morning, for him.
Do I want him to take me that way again? Is that why I settled on a skirt like last time?
Is that even a question? That was hot.
Oh boy, I’m so nervous.
It’s the first time he’ll meet me as myself. Cosima. Not Sophie. This time he knows I’m not his classmate, not the girl he often saw around campus.
I’m the Other Girl.
Moment of truth. I wipe my hands on my sides, scan the length of the building, then the building across. I hope it’s the right one. He explained where it was, but what if I made a mistake? Should I text him?
No, no way.
He’s late.
He’s not coming. I knew it, I knew it. This is nuts. I’ve put my life on hold for my mother, my ex, my sister and now for him.
Okay, calm down. Stop.
I force myself to breathe in, breathe out. It’s the same feeling of panic I always got when Mom didn’t come home night after night, when the neighborhood kids called me names, when my sister called me a year ago for the first time to tell me she needed my help.
I don’t know why this, with him, should feel as important, why it should cause such a reaction in me.
He’s not all that late yet. He said he’ll be there. Don’t run, Cos. Don’t you dare run.
Don’t you dare.
“Cosima!”
Heart pounding against my ribs, I turn. That’s his voice. His broad-shouldered form appears, coming from the building across, the winter sun glinting on his short hair.
He’s so much larger than in my mind’s eye, taller, more muscular, that square jaw so firm and masculine. Then again in my memory he’s either fucking me or bleeding out in weird nightmares, so I can’t trust them.
But here he is, heading toward me, safe and sound, generous mouth tilting in one of those bright smiles of his.
Catching me off guard, like every time.
Catching me straight in the heart.
“So you’re Cosima,” he says a little breathlessly, still smiling, looking like a young Chris Hemsworth as he approaches me, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, a T-shirt that says ‘Come at me, midnight black,’ stretched over his strong torso, those big earphones hanging around his neck.
You know what they say about a guy with big earphones… ha.
“That’s me. Cos.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he says, taking my hand in both of his, chafing it to warm it up, and I laugh, I can’t help it. “And you know my name.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Merc.” His name, and the taste of his mouth, the feel of his cock inside me. I know all these things about him.
My pussy clenches, and right on cue, heat licks at my face.
“Cos.” He’s suddenly so close, that mouthwatering scent of his filling my senses. He’s close-shaven today, the smooth cheeks giving him a boyish look despite the dark smudges under his clear eyes. “Is that what I should call you?”
You can call me whatever you want as long as we have sex again, I want to say, but bite back the words—because didn’t we just establish it matters to me, a lot, what he calls me?
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Cos.” He lifts my hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving my face, and presses a hot kiss to the center of my palm. “Or CosieCat?”
“What? Oh.” His lips on my palm do strange things to my insides, starting a fire in my belly. I grab at his thick biceps with my other hand as the heat shoots through me. “God.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against my palm and I feel it all the way between my legs. “I tried. But I fucking can’t.”
I’d say the same, but my voice has deserted me. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, what will come out will be a moan instead of words.
He walks me backward, a strong emotion flaring in his eyes, but I can’t read them until he presses me against a wall.
Déjà vu.
But it’s not just desire in those blue depths, although it’s there, too.
“Why did you run?” he asks, his voice dipping. “Why didn’t you talk to me, why didn’t you say anything—”
“I told you I’m not Sophie.” I swallow hard. “Didn’t I?”
“Like that was going to clear things up?”
He’s pissed, even as he’s aroused, his hard length branding my stomach, trapped between us. He’s pissed with good reason, but my first instinct is always to kick back and then run. I realize I’m already planning my escape.
But he grabs both my wrists
and traps them over my head, leans in and whispers in my ear, “I’m not letting you go.”
I blink.
“Do you want me to let you go?”
I shake my head.
His breath on my neck makes me shiver. “So why did you run?”
“I thought…” I swallow again, aware of every inch of his strong body touching mine. “I thought you had a thing going with my sister.”
He huffs a silent laugh. “Nope.”
“It’s not funny!” I close my eyes, my face hot. “I was wrong. Happy?”
“Apology accepted.” He draws back and pins me with that brilliant gaze. “Damn, I thought you’d never call. That I’d never see you again. That I fucked it up.”
The uncertainty, the sadness in his voice gives me pause. “You didn’t. Fuck it up, that is.”
His lips twitch. Then he leans in and kisses me deeply, keeping my wrists locked over my head held in one big hand. The big headphones hanging from his neck jab into the sides of my neck.
He licks at my mouth, and when I moan, his tongue tangles with mine. He’s kissing me like he wants to eat me up, crushing me into the wall.
He shoves a hand up my skirt and grabs my ass.
I break the kiss, breathless. “What are you doing?”
His eyes are dark, the pupils so dilated they’ve swallowed the blue. “I can’t stop thinking of you, of being inside you again. To fuck you until you come so hard.”
I stop breathing completely. “Merc,” I choke out.
“What?” It’s a whisper. He’s looking at my mouth. He’s rock-hard where he’s pressed to me. “Want me to stop?”
I draw a deep breath, face heating. “No, I… wanted to ask if you know any other handy storerooms around here.”
His gaze lifts to mine and he chuckles, the sound low and rich like dark Brandy. “Is this our thing, then?”
“It could be.” My body is wound up tight, burning for his touch. I want him to put his hands on me, his mouth, I want his cock inside me. Never wanted sex like that, never dreamed about it.
Sex with a guy like him.
He lets go of my wrists to drag his hand over my cheek to press his thumb against my lips, until I open up and take the digit in, sucking on it. A sweet groan leaves his throat, deep and tortured.