by BJ Harvey
“One minute till midnight,” the DJ calls out over the loudspeaker, but again, I don’t care.
Meeting Skye’s beautiful azure-blue eyes, I snap—more than I already have—and crowd her in against the wall.
“Co,” she breathes. “We need to get back.”
My chest touches hers. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“It was better that way,” she says, her voice wavering.
“Why?” I press my lips to her exposed collarbone.
“So I don’t give us away.”
“Does it matter?” I ask, dragging my lips up her neck and sucking the sensitive skin of her throat between my teeth.
Her hands on my biceps push me away as a moan escapes her. “Co. We need to get back.”
“Soon…” I run my tongue along her jaw to the corner of her mouth. Her breathing quickens, her fingernails biting into my skin.
“I wanted to remind you who you’ll be coming home with tonight,” I say quietly. There’s an edge to it though. I don’t know how to rein in whatever the hell this feeling is that’s controlling me, so I’ve given up trying.
She jerks her head away and pushes her hands against me. “Step back, Cohen.” Something about her tone breaks through my lust-fueled haze.
I shift back and stare down at her, my brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You want to go and try your luck with those dickheads you were chatting up?”
She gasps, her gaze turning sharp. “No. I don’t want to go home with anyone else. I wanted to go home with you,” she says, jabbing her finger in my chest. “Something I’m currently rethinking.”
“Then why were you flirting with those guys?”
“I wasn’t. I went to school with one of them, and we bumped into them downstairs on the dance floor and they followed us back to the VIP level.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, they definitely wanted you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re drunk and being an idiot, Co. Go back to the bar and drink some water. We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Yeah, you are, because you’d never act like a jealous caveman boyfriend around me when you’ve made it clear we’re friends who fuck, and that’s all.”
I jerk back. “What? What are you talking about? We are friends. And we do have fantastic fucking. You know I care about you though. You’re my Skye…”
“Ten… nine… eight…”
“Cohen, we’ve basically been in a relationship for two months now, and then after Christmas Day, it hit me that we could be more and that I want there to be more.”
Alarm bells ring in my ears, and even in my current intoxicated state, I know something is wrong. So very wrong.
She steps in and rises up on her toes, her hand cupping my jaw.
“Seven… six… five…”
“I love you, Cohen Cook, but right now, the way you’re acting, thinking I’d even consider going home with anyone else, tells me we’re not on the same page, let alone reading the same damn book. Happy birthday, Co.” She presses her lips softly to mine, and with tears in her eyes, she looks at me one last time before turning and walking away.
And stupidly, I stand and watch her go, frozen in place.
“Three… two… one.”
“Happy New Year” rings out around the club, and yet I still can’t move because I’m stuck on the fact Skye Rossi broke our promise.
She said she wouldn’t catch feelings and that things wouldn’t get complicated.
This was just supposed to be sex and nothing else, so I never let myself entertain the idea of it being more, but maybe I failed too.
Now I’ve hurt her, something I never wanted to do. It’s why I didn’t want to start this thing between us anyway. I didn’t want to risk losing my best friend and the best damn partner I’ve ever had.
And standing in an empty hallway, with “Auld Lang Syne” blaring out of the speakers, I can only think of one thing to do.
Drink.
Skye and I will get through this somehow. We have to. We’re adults. We can just talk it over tomorrow, and everything will be fine.
It has to be.
But why does my chest hurt so damn bad right now?
22
Skye
I turned my phone off as soon as I got to Dion and Vin’s house at one a.m. New Year’s Day, having ordered an Uber and hidden out downstairs until it arrived. Then I cried out my shock, hurt, and disappointment onto Dion’s shoulder while Vin grabbed a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.
I didn’t turn my phone back on until an hour ago—two days after New Year’s—when I finally decided to come home and face the music—or Cohen. Before I did that, I’d gone to my parents’ house and put some other things in motion, including calling the captain to discuss my future working situation.
I came up with a story about the construction being too disruptive, telling Mama and Papa I needed to stay with them for a few weeks. Mama then dropped me home, not before imparting some maternal wisdom she had no way of knowing I needed, but—as always—her instincts were bang on.
“As long as you stay true, then everything you deserve will follow.”
I fell in love with my best friend when I’d promised I wouldn’t. In two days, I’ve gone through three bottles of wine, two pints of Chunky Monkey ice cream, and one box of Kleenex. Where’s my prize for that?
I’m packing a suitcase with anything I might need for my staycation ’anywhere away from Co’ when there’s a loud knock at the door. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, using the extra oxygen to fortify my resolve to talk this out like a strong, modern-day woman who knows herself, what she wants, and what she deserves.
“You’re here,” he breathes as I stand aside to let him in. He’s panting as if he ran up the stairs, but he looks almost relieved to have found me.
I walk back into the kitchen and move around to stand on the other side of the counter. “Yeah. I got back a little while ago.”
“Where were you?” he says, standing opposite me. He’s talking the way someone might after not seeing his girlfriend for a few days. Sadly, I know that’s not true when it comes to the two of us.
“Dion and Vin’s, and then my parents.”
He nods, looking the most uncomfortable I’ve ever seen him, and this is the man who once had to attend a callout with me after a geriatric dominatrix got her zipper caught in a sex chair hook and some injuries were suffered that required an ambulance.
That was awkward. This is a whole other level.
His body language is different from the man he was two nights ago at the club. This is a Cohen I haven’t seen before, and I’m not sure how to get a read on him.
“Skye, I want to apologize for the other night. I was acting like an idiot, got jealous, and lost my mind.”
I nod, ’cause he’s not wrong. “Yeah, you did.”
He shoots me a gentle smile, but I force myself not to react because that smile would have a weaker Skye melting and letting herself fall back into the way things were before.
Now the cat is out of the bag—so to speak—I know things can’t be the same. Nor do I want them to be. But I also need there to be a line in the sand—a clear delineation between what we were and what we might get back to being in future, once I’m over my feelings for him.
“We need to talk about the other night,” he says.
”I’m not sure there’s anything else to say, Co.”
His entire body jerks and I wait for him to argue, but he doesn’t. I’m disappointed, but part of me knew it would end up being like this. It’s not like he vocally returned my feelings. Drunk as he was, there wouldn’t have been any inhibitions to stop him from telling me how he felt. Even now, he’s not confessing all—he’s sitting there looking like he doesn’t know what to say, or even how to act around me.
Okay, I guess it’s up to me then.
“The problem we had was that we already knew almost everything about
each other before we started sleeping together, and we already liked that because we were best friends.” I have his complete attention now and as unnerving as it, it’s also empowering. “Then we had the sex, and it was spectacular, which turned you from a cool guy with a great ass, who made me laugh and wasn’t a dick, into the whole damn package.” I pause and bite my lip, touching my tongue to the roof of my mouth and looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears stinging my eyes from taking hold.
“Babe…” he says, moving to come closer. I hold my hand up, and he stops.
“By Christmas, I admit I was already halfway gone, but you gave me everything that day. After that, I had to accept I’d caught feelings and didn’t even fight it—I didn’t want to.” I square my shoulders, strength coursing through me, and thank God because I’m going to need a titanium spine to get through this. If he says he loves me now, I don’t know what I’ll do short of crumbling at his feet and giving in.
I have to stay strong. I have to be strong.
Cohen’s eyes gentle. “Babe, you caught me by surprise. We said we’d be honest, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Did you miss me telling you I loved you the other night?
His soft, beautifully conflicted eyes bore into mine as he shakes his head.
“Did I miss you running after me and making sure I was okay? Or calling around everyone I know to try and find me yesterday?”
The look of regret in his gaze threatens my resolve. But I power on, needing to get it out.
“Co, when a woman says ‘I love you,’ she usually wants some sort of acknowledgment that it’s been heard. It’s one of the most vulnerable times in a person’s life, being brave enough to put their heart out there and offer it to someone else, hoping they feel the same way. I know you, and I know what this was supposed to be, but sometimes people fall and do it hard, and with you…” I clear my throat, “… with you, I felt safe, and in that moment, in your arms, I trusted you enough to take a chance on us becoming more than the us we were. This isn’t casual for me anymore, and I owed you the truth.”
Cohen looks nothing short of bewildered. What he doesn’t look like is a man about to sweep me up in his arms and tell me it’ll be okay—that we’ll be okay. Besides, the time to say anything was the other night, or any time before now—not today after sleeping off his hangover.
“I would say something, but I don’t know what to say, Skye. I didn’t see this coming.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Really, though? Because you’ve been giving me all the signs that this was more than just an easy lay for you for weeks now.”
Again, he stands there, a bewildered expression on his face. Right, time to get this done.
“What I do know is that you owed me at least something. Any kind of response—a yes, no, I don’t know. Anything would’ve been better than nothing.”
He shakes his head, but still, he’s speechless. Why won’t he say something?
“Now that it’s out there, it’s like this giant thing between us. I can’t take it back, but I also don’t want to take it back.” I take a moment to breathe and fortify myself. My voice drops. “The kicker of it all is now that I know how I feel about you, it changes everything.”
I feel the heavy weight of his stare and know deep in my soul that as hard as this is, I’ve made the right decision. Everything I’ve done may have been a snap decision on my part, but nothing is going to change without me putting much-needed distance between the two of us.
“I deserve more, Co, and I see now that I’m not going to get that with you, and we both know life’s too short to waste.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He turns away and paces to my sofa, rubbing his hand through his hair before facing me. He watches me for a beat before trying again. “I’m not saying I don’t care about you; I do, it’s just…” I can see he’s struggling, but a man who knows what he wants wouldn’t be short of words in a pivotal moment like this. He wouldn’t be standing across the room from me either. He’d be a man of action, a man determined to prove to the woman he wants that her heart is safe in his hands just as his is safe in hers.
“That’s the thing, Co. Maybe is not what I want. I want a guy who knows, and if you don’t know after twelve months of working with me, nearly two months of sleeping with me, going out for drinks, playing games of pool, shooting the shit with the guys, and hanging out with your family—and mine—then it’s never going to happen. It’s just not meant to be.”
I take a deep breath and walk over, stopping in front of him. I wrap my hand around the side of his neck. His intense gaze locks with mine, and suddenly, it hurts to breathe. I close my eyes, taking a moment before giving him the last part of whatever it was between us.
“It’s okay,” I say gently. “I know that somewhere out there is a man who will know he wants me and will not even hesitate a second when I tell him I love him. I need to be free to be ready for him when he comes into my life, whenever and wherever that may be. I didn’t think I could have it all before. But now, I want everything. My career, friends, my family, and I want to be with someone. A partner. Working towards a future.”
His hands cup my face, his eyes soft and so damn sincere that it makes this all the more harder. Dipping his head, warm air fans across my lips. “Skye, you’ve got to know I’m a little blindsided here. We said no strings; we said no commitment. I didn’t let myself entertain the idea of us becoming more because we said—”
“Yeah, Co. We said all of that, but no one can foretell the future. You can go into something with the best of intentions. Then, bam, suddenly you realize that you’ve fallen in love with your best friend, and you’re not sure if it was the flirty texts, the sexy gym workout, the constant frustration over his family’s cock-blocking, or the fact he gave up Christmas with his family to make sure you were okay and even arranged a visit from the one person he knew could put you back together.”
“Babe, I just need some time,” he says tenderly.
“Co, you shouldn’t need more time to see what’s been right in front of you all along.”
“You promised this wouldn’t get complicated.” His voice is rough and guttural, conflict written all over his face.
“The only one complicating anything right now is you, Co. You and your denial.”
Past Skye would understand he needs time to process all of this. Present-day Skye knows Cohen needs a push; otherwise, it’s never going to happen.
“One day, we’ll look back and laugh and realize this is for the best. Until then, we need time apart. I need time to get past this, and I can’t do that if I’m still doing the same things with the same person, and nothing changes.”
“Everything has changed, Skye. You said that.” He brings his mouth just shy of mine. “I need to know I’m not going to lose you. Promise me we’ll be okay.”
I press my lips to his and hold them there as a lone tear drips down my cheek.
“One day, we’ll be okay,” I whisper against his lips.
Cohen pulls back and meets my eyes, reaching his hand down and lacing his fingers with mine, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s not going to let me go. Despite making this decision, I still don’t want him to.
He brushes his lips against my temple, holding them there before giving me a gentle squeeze and stepping back.
I may have done this, but it still hurts when he does exactly what I asked him to.
“See you in a few days,” he says. I don’t have it in me to tell him that not only has everything between us changed, but the flow-on effect means it’s not just us who are changing.
We both should’ve known nothing was going to be the same after that kiss on my couch.
When he closes my front door, I stand there staring at the blank space. My entire body feels like a dead weight, heavy and unable to move.
“It’s for the best,” I whisper to my big empty apartment. “It has to be.”
Hopefully, one day I’ll believe it.
/>
23
Cohen
As someone who has always loved his job and the people he worked with, I’ve always looked forward to starting a shift.
This morning—two days after Skye ended things with me—I’m dragging the chain. I’ve already pressed snooze twice. It was only when my old-school back-up alarm clock went off across the other side of the room that I actually hauled myself out of bed and made myself get ready.
It’s because I found out yesterday that Skye requested an immediate transfer, and the captain made it happen. Just like that, she’s out of my bed, our friendship is on pause for God knows how long, and now she doesn’t even want to be partnered with me either.
She’s also staying somewhere else—temporarily, according to Jamie—claiming she’s helping out a friend, but I know that’s a front. Yesterday, after the few messages I’d sent Skye went unread, I broke the rules and shot Dion a text. I’d saved his number on Christmas Day.
Cohen—Have you heard from Skye?
Dion—Yes, she’s staying here, and she’s doing okay.
Cohen—Thanks. I just wanted to check.
Dion—And maybe you need to ask yourself WHY.
I didn’t spend the last two days relaxing and enjoying my time off. I spent it drunk, on my couch, in my ratty-ass sweat pants and with the Uber Eats driver as my new best friend.
If I wasn’t rostered on today, I may not have even showered. I didn’t even answer my door when Bry called by yesterday, or when Jax called and left a voicemail asking if I wanted to come over for dinner.
I haven’t wanted to see anyone because then they’d see what I’ve been stupidly denying for days now. I didn’t want to face up to the fact that I had a good thing going and I let fear stop me from keeping it.
I couldn’t even admit it when I saw a sliver of hope in Skye’s eyes as she opened her heart and showed me her true feelings, telling me everything I deserved to hear about her needing to be free to find a man ready for her.
The drive to work is quiet and feels weird. I’d become used to carpooling with her, enjoying the ease between us that I haven’t ever felt with a woman I was involved with. I can’t even conjure up the enthusiasm I need ahead of a long shift, and it’s not due to not knowing who I’ll be partnered with now—it’s because it won’t be Skye.