The massage lasts about thirty minutes, and I moan and groan alongside Cole, who does the same. The women leave and tell us to take our time. There are no other clients after us, and we can enjoy the serenity of the music around us.
“I hope this was okay?” Cole asks. I turn my head, opening my eyes to look at him.
“This was magnificent,” I admit with a lazy smile.
He smiles back at me. “You do a lot, and I just wanted you to relax a little,” he mutters.
“I can’t leave Trent,” I suddenly blurt out before I slap my hand against my mouth.
His brows furrow and he nods. “Tell me why you can’t,” he demands.
I shake my head, not wanting to get into my sad story; not wanting to see the pitying look on his face that I know he’ll give me. It’s the same one Ines gave me when I told her. I could see it from across our room. “I can’t tell you, just know that I can’t.”
“But you want me?” he asks on a whisper.
Letting out a breath, I give him a trembling smile. “More than anything I’ve ever wanted before. It scares me.”
Cole sits up, wrapping his sheet around his waist again, and hops down from the table. He walks over to me and lowers so that he can look at me straight in the eyes. His hand comes out and his fingertips trace my lips, dance up my cheek, and then his index finger slides down my nose. “I want you too, Jessa. I don’t want to share you, not in the slightest. But, baby, if that’s what you need right now, then I’ll give that to you.”
“Why would you do that?” I breathe.
“I feel it, too. Whatever this is, I feel it between us. I’m almost forty years old, and I’ve never felt this way about another woman in my entire life. I want to know you, all of you, and I want you to know me, too.”
“Cole,” I say as my voice cracks.
“Nothing has to happen right now, baby. Just know, I’m not letting you get away from me,” he states as he presses his lips against mine before he stands. “I’ll text you, or call. Have a good night at work.”
Without another word, he walks out of the door, his sheet still wrapped around his waist. I let out a shaky breath, along with the tears I had been holding back. I’ve never felt this way before, and I’m not alone. Cole feels it too, and I don’t know quite what to do with that.
Once I know that Cole is gone, I slip my robe back on and hurry to the locker room. It only takes me a few minutes to throw my clothes on. I take my phone out of my bag and check it for messages, noticing that Trent’s mother called. My stomach sinks at the sight of her name. I lower down to sit on the bench and stare at her missed call.
I was enjoying a date, a date with a man that isn’t her son. I let him kiss me, all the while the woman who took me in and cared for me as her own was calling me. I bite the inside of my cheek as my thumb hovers over her name. I should ignore her, but I can’t.
“Jessa,” she says into the phone. I can tell that she’s smiling.
“Hey, Margie,” I mutter as I look at my feet, hoping that she can’t sense my guilt over the phone.
“I haven’t heard from Trent. You promised you’d have him call me. Anyway, I was thinking of you kids, so I wanted to check in, see how college life is treating you,” she rambles,
I don’t miss the part where she blames me for Trent not calling. It’s a pattern, of both her and Jim. Trent’s actions, or lack there of, are on me. They always have been. Trent is perfect in every way, and anything he lacks, that’s my fault somehow.
I sigh. “He’s been really busy with football. They practice or workout every day,” I explain. “I got a job at a little restaurant and bar where I work nights,” I say proudly.
“Trent doesn’t mind you working there?” she asks, almost sounding accusing.
Standing, I grab my purse and decide to walk back to my dorm to get ready for said job. Hopefully, I’ll be off the phone with Margie by the time I get there. I explain to her that I need the money for my books and living expenses, like food. Trent gets to eat for free in the dining hall, I do not. I don’t remind her of that.
“He hasn’t said anything,” I murmur.
She hums, and I know her well enough to know that it’s a hum of disapproval. She asks me why I don’t find a job at a cute boutique or somewhere more appropriate, instead.
I don’t bother telling her that with my classes and doing all of my homework, plus all of Trent’s, that there’s no way I could work somewhere during the day. She wouldn’t get it.
“How’s Jim doing?” I ask in an effort to change the subject.
It works.
If Margie isn’t talking about Trent, she’s talking about Jim; and if not him, then she’s talking about everyone else in town. She rambles in my ear about Jim for a while, until she does exactly what I had anticipated and switches off to talk about everyone in town. I finally, tell her that I have to go and we say goodbye before hanging up.
The conversation I had with Margie should make me nostalgic, to hear about all these people and their happenings, but it doesn’t. I’m glad I’m gone, if I’m being honest with myself. The stigma that surrounded me there, the one I was born with as the daughter of Stephanie Peterson, and then the one that came with moving in with my boyfriend’s parents while in high school—I’m happy to be away from it all.
I close my eyes and lean against the wall next to my dorm room, taking a breath and trying to relax for a minute before I go inside. I don’t know if Ines is there or not, and I don’t want to answer any questions. The high I felt during my date with Cole is now gone.
Now, I feel nothing but shame—ashamed of myself and my selfishness. I want him, I want him so much, but it’s selfish. Margie and Jim have cared for me for years. Trent has always been there for me, too. How do I repay that? By kissing another man, by wanting his touch, by desiring all of him. I’m no different than my mother. I’m exactly like her, cut from the same cloth.
COLE
I WALK AWAY from her.
I walk away from a naked Jessa.
Once I’m dressed and out of the building, I hurry toward my office, thinking the entire time about what a scumbag I am. She’s taken, and yet, for whatever reason, the guilt I should feel, the disgust I should feel about pursuing her, I don’t feel it in the slightest. That’s what makes me think I’m a scumbag.
My phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket as I sit down at my desk. Brittany. Fuck. As much as I don’t want to answer, I do it anyway.
“Cole,” she breathes into the phone.
Her voice is husky, breathy, and over the top, as usual. It’s also familiar. I know exactly what she wants just in the way she says my name.
“Hey,” I murmur as I close my eyes.
She waits for a beat before she speaks. “I miss you.”
For a split-second, I think about telling her the same, even though it’s not true. I think about the fact that I’m technically single, and I can relieve some pent-up stress by using her body. Then, as fast as the thought comes, it leaves, replaced with a vision of Jessa.
“I met someone, Britt,” I blurt. She gasps.
“It’s only been a few weeks,” she mutters, as though she’s talking to herself.
I nod. “I know.”
I can tell she’s trying to come up with something to say, and maybe she does but she decides not to share it. I’m grateful. I don’t want to have to explain Jessa to her. Not now, and not ever.
“Where’d you meet her? And when?” she asks, sounding hurt.
I run my hand through my hair. “Bison Witches—but Britt, it doesn’t matter. I met her and I like her. We’re exploring where this is going to go between us,” I truthfully admit.
“Yeah. I’m happy for you, I really am,” she lies before she rushes to tell me she has to go.
I feel like shit.
Brittany and I have been so back and forth for so long that she probably feels as though I’ve strung her along. In some ways, I probably did. She was easy, we w
ere easy. I knew her body and she knew mine. But she isn’t Jessa, and she doesn’t make me feel the way Jessa does by just thinking about her.
JESSA
WORK DRAGS ALONG, and more than once I catch myself in a daze thinking about Cole. The way his lips and his fingers felt on my skin. I want to know all of him. It’s selfish of me, and yet, I know that I’m still going to continue to go to him anytime he calls. If I don’t find out what this feeling is, what this magnetic pull is about, I’ll always wonder.
“You thinking about Coach?” Keith asks, lifting a brow at me.
“Coach?” I ask, shaking my head out of the fog it was in.
He smirks and lifts his chin. “Coach Bronson. He’s come here more than once and requested to be seated at your section.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out how to answer that. Keith plays on the football team. I’m not sure if he knows Trent, or that I’m Trent’s girlfriend, but I don’t want to chance it.
“Secret’s safe with me, Jessa,” he winks before he walks out the door for the night. I hurry and finish my closing duties, glad that my shift is over.
Stepping outside into the cool weather, a shiver runs through me. The season is beginning to shift into fall, moving toward winter, and I mentally count up my tip money, hoping that I’ll have enough for a new coat and boots by the time winter is in full force.
“Jessa,” a voice calls out. I spin around, holding my breath, and come face-to-face with Cole.
The smile that erupts on my lips can’t be held back or stopped. He returns one as well as he closes the distance between us. Immediately, his hands wrap around my waist, and his head lowers so that his lips brush mine.
“Feels like I haven’t seen you for days,” he grunts against my mouth.
Lifting my arms to his shoulders and slipping my fingers into the back of his short hair, I whisper, “It’s only been hours, Cole.”
“Don’t care, I just know it’s been too long,” he grunts. His lips touch mine again before he steps away from me, slipping his arm around my waist and tugging me close to his side. “You have a good night at work?”
I tell him how slow and boring it was, and he listens. Then he asks me about my classes and how I’m doing in them. It’s nice, to talk to someone who is curious and who wants to listen. His hand moves from around my waist and up to my shoulder as he tugs me closer against his side with each step we take. I lean my head on his chest with a sigh as I ramble about everything.
“I must be completely boring,” I admit as my dorm comes into view.
He chuckles as he tugs me over toward the side of the building and presses my back against the wall. His pale green eyes glitter in the moonlight, and he shakes his head. “I love listening to your voice, Jessa. It’s soothing and sexy all at the same time.”
Cole’s head dips down and his lips brush mine again. My mouth tingles, and I open immediately, hoping that he’ll slip his tongue inside. When he does, I let my head fall back against the I’llhard brick building.
After he tastes my mouth, his lips move down the column of my neck as he grinds his pelvis against my stomach. I let out a gasp at his hard length that’s pressed against me. I want so much more.
Gripping my hands around his strong biceps I push against him slightly, my chest heaving up and down as I try to breathe. “Jessa?” he asks, sounding confused. His voice is so sexy and raspy.
“I want you, Cole,” I admit.
His pale green eyes darken as they search my face. “Tomorrow,” he grunts.
“I…” Gulping, I don’t take my eyes from his, and I nod. “Tomorrow,” the word spills out before I can even think about it, because I want that, I want him—tomorrow.
“Go inside before it becomes tonight against this wall,” he murmurs.
He’s holding his body tight, and I slip from beneath him, rushing toward the main entrance to my building. I turn to face him, and his eyes are looking straight at me, his head bent slightly and his jaw clenching.
“Tomorrow,” I mouth as I open the door. His lips twitch into a tight smile.
“Tomorrow, baby,” he says loud enough for me to hear. My heart starts to slam against my chest.
I hurry inside toward my room, and I freeze when I see Trent leaning against the wall next to my door. My heart doesn’t just slam, it practically stops beating at the sight of him. As if he can sense me, he lifts his head and his eyes find mine instantly.
“Do you always work this late?” he asks, running his hand over his short hair.
Reaching for my door, I nod as I mutter, yes. He follows right behind me, and I can’t help but wonder if he knows anything—if he’s seen anything.
“There’s a party this weekend. I need you to come with me. It’s Saturday night,” he murmurs as we walk into my dark room. I let out a sigh of relief.
“What kind of party?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even and calm.
“Frat party, with a bunch of my teammates,” he explains as I hear him rustling behind me. “Let’s get to bed, I’m fucking beat. I thought you got off at midnight. Fucking shit, you made me stay up all fucking night long,” he grumbles as he climbs up to my bed.
I pull on one of his old t-shirts and follow behind him to go to sleep. I turn to face the wall as he throws his arm over my waist. His weight is heavy and his breath is hot against the back of my neck. I feel like I’m suffocating, like all of the air is being sucked from my lungs.
“I’ll try to get the night off, but I really need the money,” I wheeze.
“Fuck me, Jess. I don’t fucking ask you for much, and you can’t do this one thing for me?” he asks on a whispered shout.
I close my eyes tightly and turn to face him, trying not to throw all the things that I do for him in his face. I look into his brown eyes, eyes that should make me feel like I’m home, eyes that should comfort me and make me feel at ease, but don’t.
He doesn’t make me feel anything but anxiety, obligation, and a little fear. What I don’t feel is love, kindness, or care coming from him. I also don’t feel any of those things for him, either.
“I need a new winter coat, Trent, and snow boots. I have to walk to and from work, and it’s only going to get colder,” I explain, keeping my voice on a whisper.
“Are you trying to get more money from me? Or my parents? Is that why you talked to my mom today? To hit her up for money? Haven’t they given you enough?” he says, his voice climbing higher.
I shake my head, although I’m sure he can’t see me. “Trent no, she called me, and we talked about school and stuff, nothing about money,” I say, soft and gentle in hopes that he’ll calm down a little. I don’t want him to wake up Ines.
“Get the fucking day off, Jess. Don’t act like you don’t have any money. You work and you get tips. Stop being a fucking leech,” he grunts.
I press my lips together and try not to cry as I roll away to face the wall. He settles behind me and his breath is hot against my neck again. “You could strip if you really wanted to make good money. I overheard a couple cheerleaders say they were doing it on the side.”
My eyes widen and I’m glad he can’t see not only the look of shock, but also the complete disgust that crosses my features. Not that I think stripping is necessarily a bad profession, but there is no way I could take my clothes off for strangers. I am far too shy to even think about it. The fact that he’s thinking about it for me is what’s disgusting. He’s supposed to be my boyfriend. He isn’t supposed to want anybody looking at me.
“You could make some serious fucking cash, babe. Think about it.”
I nod, but I don’t think about it. Because… no, thank you. I close my eyes and I think about Cole. I think about how, just a few minutes ago, he had me pressed up to the wall of the building; how he kissed me and how my stomach flip flopped; how my skin broke out into goosebumps, and I wanted those lips of his all over my entire body.
Then I think abou
t his length, how hard and long it seemed pressed against me. I bite the inside of my cheek as I think about how he would feel inside of me, stretching me, and if I would be wet. I bet I would be, especially since just his kiss makes me squirm. Tomorrow, I’ll find out. Today, actually, in just a few hours, I’ll know how he feels inside of me. I’ll be a cheater, and I’ll be just as slutty as my mother.
But I don’t care.
I want him.
COLE
THIS MORNING, I wake up feeling almost as excited as a kid at Christmas. Jessa and me, alone together. My lips twitch as I think about finally tasting her, and I sigh as I run my hand over my face, attempting to wipe the twitch that turns into a full-fledged smile at the thought of making her come on my tongue. I won’t be able to take all the time I want to with her, but I’m going to do as much as I can, making her come with my mouth, for starters.
I jog toward my office and my feet falter when I see none other than Trent Keller waiting for me next to the door. My eyebrows tug together with the thought that he somehow knows I’ve been coming onto his girlfriend, kissing her and making dates with her.
“Keller,” I grunt as I fish my keys out of my pocket and reach for the door.
“Can I talk to you, coach?” he asks, sounding smaller than usual, less sure of himself, less cocky.
Lifting a brow, I jerk my chin toward the small space and hold the door open for him to walk in first. I let the door close behind me and make my way over to my desk before I sit in my chair.
I study the boy for a minute and note that he looks tired, really fucking tired, and I’m curious as to what’s wrong with him. This isn’t the normal Keller that I’m used to seeing.
“What’s up?”
He runs his hand along the back of his neck before he lifts his head and looks at me. “I’m having problems with my girlfriend, and I can’t really talk to any of my teammates about it,” he admits and lifts his shoulder.
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