by Autumn Grey
I’m not ready to stop playing this game. I grab the notebook and write, Teach me and then straighten in my chair, crossing my arms on my chest. When he looks up from the notepad, he’s no longer smiling.
I raise a brow at him, challenging him and point my finger to the words I wrote. His stare drops lower to my chest. I follow his gaze and see my boobs, pressing against my dress, pushing up from my folded arms.
“Really, Cole?!” He’s such a guy!
He shrugs.
“I thought Josh was teaching you.” His shoulders tense, his jaw clenches.
“I want you to teach me.”
He nods once, that little smile appearing once again. His body visibly relaxes.
Downing the rest of my ginger ale, I place the glass on the table and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. He drops the pen on the table, the sound bouncing around the silent room.
He holds his hands out with the palms facing up, draws his fingers toward him as if they’re grabbing something, and then curls his hands into fists, puts one on top of the other and does this counterclockwise grinding motion.
Um. . .
He bites his bottom lip and repeats the gesture while saying loudly, “Wanna get coffee?”
I raise my hands and copy what he just did. I know I’m messing it up big time when he smirks, scoots his chair closer and grabs my hands to walk me through the steps.
His hands are touching mine now. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I swear my brain has short-circuited. I’m useless.
He drops his fingers from mine and asks me to repeat. I do it but mess the steps up again because my skin is tingling where his hands were. He’s patient though. In fact, it seems like he’s enjoying this a little too much.
“Thank you,” I sign.
He nods and says, “The pleasure is all mine.”
Why do I feel those five little words hold more meaning than meets the eye?
Cole stands up from his chair, lifts his arms up in a stretch and my fantasy about ever seeing a part of his skin other than his face and arms comes to life. His T-shirt rides up and reveals a slip of his stomach. He’s toned, probably from building houses and lifting things in his dad’s construction company.
God.
Are those abs real?
Right before the shirt slides back down, I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on the right side of his rib. His smirks when he sees where my attention is. He steps around the small desk, takes my hand from my lap and tugs me up. Once I’m standing, he hooks his pinkie finger around mine, turns around and strides toward the back of the room where the majority of the shelves are. Everyone seems preoccupied with whatever they are doing. Feeling braver with each step, I follow him. I’m helpless not to. It’s like Cole is a wind charmer and I’m the wind. Whichever way he blows, I’m there, following him, unable to resist his call.
We stop at the back of the room in a spot hidden behind two book cases. He gazes down at me with that look of his that makes me wonder what he’s thinking about.
“Can I see your tattoo?” Man, I’m on a roll today.
He nods.
Tentatively, I lift his shirt. The muscles beneath his skin tense as if anticipating my touch. His eyes go from gray to stormy in two seconds flat. I tear my eyes from his and scoot closer to read the inscription:
The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.
Placing my fingers against his abs, I trace the quote with my thumb and he sucks in a breath. I jerk my head up to look at him. His eyes are sealed and his breathing is ragged. I touch his shoulder and his eyes flip open.
“It’s beautiful.”
I drop his shirt and we stand there, staring at each other. He takes a step forward and my legs follow his lead, closing the space between us. He stares at my mouth again, his eyes darkening, seemingly fascinated by my lips. I’m dying to test his theory and give him a taste of what my mouth feels like because I want to know what his tastes like.
I raise to my tiptoes. His eyes widen, darker and hungrier than before, but my Cole, the boy I’ve come to know, doesn’t make a move. I press my lips to his, then let my tongue taste his bottom lip. I’ve imagined doing this a million times. Kissing him. Tasting him. But I’ve never done something like this until this moment. Never initiated a kiss. Something about Cole makes me want to beat down my fear and try things I’ve never done before.
He doesn’t disappoint. His mouth parts on a breath, and his tongue meets mine in a quick caress before retreating back. I drop to the soles of my feet and tilt my head up. God, he is tall.
Does he want to grab me, kiss me again? Or push me away? I can’t read him. All I know is that his eyes are like thunder and lightning on a dark velvet night. A part of me is terrified and the other is excited because I know that when he finally really kisses me, I won’t want to emerge from the storm he will create.
Finally, he slides one hand around my waist and pulls me close. He rests his forehead against mine before lowering his head to the crook of my neck. His other arm comes around my back, pulling me close. He hugs me tight, then his hold loosens, and just when I think he’s about to let me go, his arms tighten again, firmer than before. Like he’s not ready to let me go. Like he wants our bodies to meld into each other. God, I want that too.
He lifts his head and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. A groan rumbles in his chest and that is the only warning I get as his lips crush into mine, swallowing my squeal of surprise.
“Fuck, Snowflake. If I had known kissing you would be this intoxicating, I would have claimed this perfect mouth sooner. But I was a coward. I need to kiss you,” he says, pulling back slightly. The words are a little unclear, affected by the same hurricane that’s destroying my thoughts inside me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you glare at me from your front lawn. You’ve crawled under my skin so deep, I have to kiss you to seal you in. Never leave.”
Did he just call me Snowflake?
Holy crap. “Were you afraid of kissing me?”
He blinks. His hands loosen their hold. He seems hesitant to say anything, but I see the moment he decides to let me in.
He nods. “I wasn’t ready for you. I wasn’t ready to get myself tangled up with you. Girls break you. I’ve been broken before. I planned to stay away from you, but fuck. Nor. I keep coming back to that roof every night. Every fucking night. And now you’re here, in my space. What have you done to me?”
My knees buckle and my hands shoot out to grab his arms for support. Before my body hits the floor, he grips my upper arms hoisting me up and his hips press forward, supporting my weight at the same time that my back connects with a hard surface. Then he slides his hands under my knees, hooking my legs around his waist, locking me in completely. My heart’s thumping hard against his chest. I wish I had more than two sets of hands so I could touch him all over at once like I’ve imagined doing. I settle for sinking my fingers into his thick hair and pulling him down toward my mouth, but I don’t need to. He’s already leaning down to me.
When his trembling fingers connect with my body, the hesitation I’d felt when he first joined me on my roof is gone. His hands are all over me, brutal and greedy. One hand slides up my neck and lifts my hair over to one shoulder. His fingers splay on my throat, soaking up the vibrations from my groans.
“Is this okay?” he asks. “I want to feel the sounds you make on my skin.”
I nod in understanding. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I let him guide me because I know he won’t hurt me. I trust him, even though that’s an emotion reserved for very special people.
Just before his mouth crashes down on mine, he groans, a sound that’s a cross between torment and desire. I moan and the last thing I see are his stormy eyes as they darken further. Then he’s kissing me, driving me wild with kisses that taste like mint, hope and storm. Gravity can’t hold me down, I’m so high I’m touching the sky without my feet leaving the ground. His mouth moves, shaping into mine, his hands desperate and
needy. Demanding and unrelenting. I’m like clay in his hands and I don’t care. He can shape me into whatever he wants. Whatever he needs me to be as long as he doesn’t stop making me feel like I’m kissing heaven. It’s overwhelming.
Pure torture.
Exquisite.
Perfection.
It’s everything that is Cole Holloway, a quiet yet powerful storm, which could wreck me.
Break me.
Mend me.
I swear this boy will be the death of me.
His hand leaves the nape of my neck and now he’s cupping my cheeks, slowing the kiss, taming the hurricane currently destroying every little fragment that makes me who I am. I open my eyes and lean my head back, as his mouth slides down my neck, across my collarbone, before he pulls back to stare at me.
“Hi,” he pants.
“Hi,” I reply, twirling the hair curling on his neck. I bury my face in his chest. Feel his heart beating frantically to the same rhythm as mine.
I close my eyes and smile.
I could live on that kiss alone.
Cole cups the side of my neck, caressing my jaw with his thumbs as he searches my face. His eyes are filled with something akin to bewilderment, bordering on wonder. And then he shakes his head and kisses my forehead.
“Thank you.” He mouths the words on my skin and I can feel them imprint themselves in my soul. The soul that he owns.
Unhooking my legs from around his taut waist, I slide down his body, and suck in a breath as his erection pushes against my stomach. I land on shaking feet. Cole doesn’t let me go yet. He readjusts my dress, then deftly brushes my hair back with his fingers before pulling me back into his arms, wrapping them around me. Cole doesn’t just hug me, though. He has a way of holding me, and just when I think he’s about to drop his arms and let me go, they tighten around me. Firm yet gentle. I love it. I’m sure he invented this kind of hug.
A Cole kind of hug.
He ducks his head to meet my gaze and asks, “Can you walk?”
I jerk my head up and feel heat burst on my cheeks at the look on his face. I’m afraid if I open my mouth to speak, I might start whooping in joy.
I nod and grin. “Dude. You’re lethal.” I still can’t believe this quiet boy kissed the living crap out of me. The quiet ones are always the most dangerous, I guess.
One side of his mouth tips up. I’m beginning to get addicted to that smile of his. He steps back and shoves those hands that tilted my world off its axis inside his pockets.
Cole kissed me.
Cole hugged me.
Cole kissed me.
“See you later.” And hopefully we’ll create a storm of kisses again.
I wave and turn around, literally skipping out of the room and ignoring the freckled boy gaping at us. With Cole’s taste still fresh on my tongue, I press my fingers on my lips and grin.
He tastes like what my dreams are made of. I like it.
“That look suits you,” Megs announces, startling me out of my thoughts.
I glance up and see her smiling wide. She and Simon exchange a look. Simon scowls, darts a look in the direction I came from, then back at me.
“Damn it,” he says, shoving his hand inside the back pocket of his shorts and pulling out his wallet. He pulls out a ten-dollar bill and slaps it on the counter toward Megs, who is now laughing hard.
“What’s going on?” I ask, feeling the heat in my cheeks fade a little.
“I told him Cole would kiss the shit out of you. Simon said he wouldn’t. We placed a bet and I won. How could Cole not kiss you when he gets this moony look in his eyes whenever your name pops up in a conversation?” She winks, grabs the money on the counter and tucks it inside her bra.
I don’t even know how to react to this, but the look on Simon’s face is priceless. A giggle sneaks out of my mouth, followed by another one. Soon Megs and I are laughing hard. Simon’s lips twitch as he fights a smile. When I finally stop, Megs walks toward me and hugs me too tight.
“It’s so good to see you laugh, Nor,” she whispers in my neck.
I hug her tighter, basking in this friendship. “I promise to laugh more often then,” I say, pulling back.
“That shit would be hot if you two didn’t look as if you’re having a soap opera moment,” Simon says from the other side of the counter.
We turn to look at him as he waggles his eyebrows.
I chuckle and shake my head, too happy to even form any kind of reply. “I’m ready to check out those dresses you were talking about.”
“Awesome.” She sashays around the counter. Simon grins like he can’t stop himself, his face lit up with his feelings for Megs. Grabbing her hand, he drags her to an alcove which is mostly hidden from the public, shackles her wrists with one of his hands and slides them above her head before he kisses her. Oh my God, he kisses her like he wants to consume her whole.
My face starts to heat again at this passionate display, so I yell, “I’ll be in the car, Megs,” while turning around and heading out the door.
Once I’m seated inside my mom’s old Station Wagon, it hits me that Cole probably wasn’t just giving me a lesson in ASL. He asked me out for coffee.
Well, at least I hope he did.
I roll down the window to let out the heat in the car and wait for my friend, and my thoughts go back to what happened in the book nook. I shiver all over again, feeling a tingly-warm feeling settle low in my stomach.
I’ve always wondered what steamy, heart pounding kisses feel like. Cole knocked the ball out of the park with that kiss.
MONDAY MORNING, I JERK AWAKE at the sound of a bird chipping merrily outside my window. I turn my head to check the time on the clock on my nightstand and fly out of bed.
Crap!
It’s nine-thirty in the morning. I’m starting my job at my grandma’s shop today and I’m supposed to be there in ten minutes.
I slip on knee-length sky blue dress and adjust the straps on my shoulders, my mind on last night. Last night’s star-gazing session was incredible. Cole held my hand in his the entire time and when we finally climbed down from the roof, he kissed me so long, so soft, so hard that I stayed up for hours just thinking about it. It’s as if the kiss behind the shelves at the book nook unlocked something in me, in us. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other when we were close.
A tap on the window pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn around to find Cole standing there. My heart drums its usual thud thud thud inside my chest and heat fills my cheeks, absorbing the way his gaze travels down my body like he wants to crawl through the window and ravish me.
“Hey,” I wave, wondering why my knees feel like jelly but I’m still standing here.
“Come here,” he says. Somehow, I float across the room to the window, and he enters my room.
As soon as I reach his side, he takes my face into his hands, and stares into my eyes for long seconds before dipping his head and pressing his lips to mine. My eyes automatically fall shut as the soft innocent kiss quickly changes into a passionate one as our tongues tangle and teeth clash. My hands find their way to his neck, and further up, to tug the beanie aside a bit and sink my fingers into his thick, soft hair.
The kiss ends too soon. The sound of our ragged breathing fills the room. I open my eyes and watch as he takes a deep breath, before his eyes slowly open.
“Do you want me to drop you at Phoebe’s? I looked out my window and saw your mom’s car still parked outside. I figured you hadn’t left and so I am here to offer my chauffeur services.”
I nod, thoroughly excited about sharing space with him in the car. “Let me just get my purse and phone.”
His fingers linger on mine a little longer before he shakes his head as if he is lost in a dream and pulls them away. Cole crawls out the window again to wait for me in his car. He has been using the window since the confrontation with my dad. If there’s something I’m grateful for, it’s that my dad is rarely home, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t car
eful.
After quickly checking on mom in her room and find her sleeping, I pop in to say bye to Elon and Elise, letting them know how long I’ll be gone and to call me if they need anything. I bound downstairs and out the door. Cole is waiting next to his car in his usual parking spot, holding the passenger door open for me. Once I’m seated, he rounds the car to his side and slides in on his seat. Seconds later, he pulls out of the spot and drives off, with our fingers already linked together on his thigh.
When we arrive at Phoebe’s, he walks me to the door and we stop. I turn around to face him.
“What time will you be done? Maybe we can continue with those sign language classes I promised you.”
Yes! More Cole time. “In four hours. Or. . .” I pull out my phone from my purse. “You can give me your number and I’ll text you.”
He glances down at the phone and says, “Right, why didn’t I think of that?” Then he chuckles. The sound is breathy, sexy, husky.
After exchanging numbers, I turn, heading for the glass door with the “Open” sign on it, but a hand wraps around my wrist, spinning me around. I gasp and before I can say a word, his mouth is once again on mine, parting my mouth and exploring me in a gentle sweep of his tongue. Reminding me of what I’m looking forward to when my shift here is done.
Then he nips my bottom lip before he pulls back, straightening to his full height. “See you in four hours.”
God.
Cole. I have no words, really.
As soon as he leaves, I push open the door and float inside the shop.
“Now that is what I call a good bye kiss,” Grandma says with a chuckle. I glance up and see her sitting in a chair next to her desk.
I stop next to her and toss my purse on the chair across from the desk, suddenly feeling shy. I lean down to kiss her cheek and straighten. “I’m happy.”
“Is that the Holloway boy?”
I nod, taking in my surroundings and breathing in the mixed scents of roses, lilacs, gardenia and some flowers I don’t even know, placed strategically around the room.
“Yep. That’s Cole.” Even his name makes me shiver.