Songbird (Songbird, #1)

by Lisa Edward

  I looked closer still. I was sure I could see words interwoven in the feathers of the wings on his back. I sat up, trying to find more.

  “So you’ve finally seen that some of the feathers are actually words,” he said, smiling over his shoulder.

  So I was right. I could see strength and beauty and courage. What else could I find? There was harmony and peace. It was absolutely beautiful. The closer I looked, the more I found.

  “Oh my God, Cole,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

  He placed the guitar down beside him. “There are about twenty words so far. I get more added as I think of words of significance. Do you really like it?”

  I nodded, still trying to find more, but it was getting dark and it was almost impossible to see now.

  He then lay next to me, propped up on his elbow. “So, what’s going on with you, babe? You seem to be getting better.”

  I looked over at him. Even in this half-light as the sun was disappearing, I could see his eyes examining my face intently.

  I gave him a half-smile. “I’m getting there, I think. I only cried twice today, when different things reminded me of Riley.” I rolled onto my side to face him, and propped myself up on my elbow to mirror his body language. “So I guess, give it another month or two, and I’ll be able to go a whole day without crying.”

  “So just another month or two to wait before you’re ready to move on?” he asked with a half-smile.

  I nodded. I guess he was tired of me crying all the time, and would be happy when we could spend some time together without him having to comfort me.

  My hair was blowing gently around my face, and I pulled it back into a ponytail. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “You know I’m here for you if you need to lean on me.” Cole’s hand continued travelling down my cheek to my neck as he spoke, his gaze following his hand as it travelled. His tongue licked his bottom lip, leaving his lips moist and slightly parted.

  Why did my stomach always do back flips whenever he was close?

  I chuckled. “I thought I was leaning on you. If we spent any more time together, you might as well move in.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “In all seriousness, though, I couldn’t have gotten through the last month without you.” Then I jokingly added, “You know, you’d be the perfect man, if you could only keep The Prince in your pants.”

  He chuckled. “Is that right? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  I laid my head back down, but it was uncomfortable. “I need more pillows,” I joked. “Can I have your pants?”

  He chuckled. “You could take off your dress,” he said cheekily.

  “You’re right, I could.” I jumped up and pulled my cotton dress off over my head. “I’m going in,” I called over my shoulder as I ran down to the water.

  “What are you doing? Have you completely lost your mind?” Cole jumped up after me and stood on the water’s edge, trying to coax me back out as I ran into the cool shallows.

  “You should come in. The water’s so refreshing.”

  I had only gone in waist deep, but was bobbing down, so my whole body was submerged in the still water. It felt so good to be cool again.

  “No way. There could be sharks in there. You would never see them in the dark,” Cole replied, running his hands through his hair. “Just come out, please.”

  I felt something brush up against my leg and then wrap around my ankle. I yelped and tried to get free, frantically splashing around. I looked up to see Cole running through the water to my rescue, water spraying everywhere.

  He grabbed hold of me, and lifted me up so my legs were wrapped around him, and I clung around his neck in a death grip.

  Now that my feet were out of the water, I could see that what had attacked me was a tiny length of seaweed.

  I started laughing. “Attack of the killer seaweed,” I joked as I unwound it, and threw it out into the ocean.

  I looked down at Cole. He was standing hip deep in the water, still wearing his jeans. But he was smiling at me, and shaking his head.

  Loosening my grip from around his neck, I lay back in the water. I let my upper body float, my legs still wrapped tightly around Cole’s hips. I put my arms out to the sides, and slowly raised and lowered them like a bird in flight, and then Cole started gently swaying me from side to side, making ripples in the otherwise calm water.

  The gentle breeze caressed my wet chest and stomach, giving me goose bumps. I closed my eyes, lost in the stillness, the absolute silence.

  Then I felt Cole’s hand touch my neck.

  Slowly half-opening my eyes, I watched as Cole, head slightly tilted to one side, ran his hand over my chest, down between my breasts and down my stomach. Both hands were now gripping my hips again, and I watched as he pulled me closer to him, his chest and arms tensing as he subtly rubbed up against me.

  I had the briefest glimpse of what it would be like to have sex with Cole as he simulated the act, looking up at him as he took control of my body. I whimpered, and his eyes left my skimpy underwear and lifted to meet mine. The corner of his mouth twitched in a half-smile, and I could see the heaving of his chest as his breathing accelerated.

  Sitting up again, I held on around his neck. We locked eyes for a moment and my heart skipped in my chest. Then he leaned forward and ever-so-lightly kissed my neck, before resting his forehead on my shoulder for a moment.

  He sighed. “We should dry off now. You’re getting cold.”

  That was funny, because I felt like I was on fire.

  He carried me back out of the water, then let me down gently onto the sand.

  “We didn’t think this through too well, did we?” I said. We were both now shivering. I looked down at his dripping wet jeans. “You can’t walk back to my place soaking wet.”

  “No problem,” he said, indicating to the tall high-rise building directly across the road. “I live over there.” He passed me his T-shirt to pull on. “We can dry off, and I’ll get changed.”

  We gave the doorman a quick wave, then rode the elevator dripping wet to the twelfth floor, the penthouse suite. As soon as the doors opened we were in an entry foyer of the actual apartment.

  Cole quickly grabbed me a towel, and pointed me in the direction of the bathroom. I stripped off my underwear and dropped it on the floor then dried my body, before slipping my dress back on. Then I wandered out to find Cole.

  I walked down a hallway that looked to be heading towards the living space but ended up outside three bedrooms instead. There was a light shining through a crack in the door at the end of the hall, and I could hear Cole humming to himself.

  “Hi,” I called. “Which way to the kitchen? I need a glass of water.”

  The door opened, and Cole stood there with a thick white towel wrapped around his hips.

  There’s something very sexy about a shirtless man, if he has a great body. There’s something even sexier about a guy wrapped in a towel. My eyes must have popped out of my head, because Cole laughed when he saw my expression.

  “It’s the other way, to the right,” he said, pointing, still smiling at my reaction to his near nakedness. “There’s wine or beer if you want a proper drink.”

  I nodded, then turned and scurried away.

  A few minutes later Cole appeared, clean and dry again. I handed him a beer and strolled over to the window to take in the view of the ocean from twelve-storeys up.

  “Girls must love this place when you bring them here. It’s like the deal clincher.” It was a magnificent apartment.

  “I don’t bring girls here,” he said casually. “Actually, I’ve never brought a girl here.”

  “Well, I’m here,” I said, eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah, but you’re not a girl.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, beer bottle half raised to my lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked indignantly.

  He half-rolled his eyes. “You’re not a girl I just want to shag, is what I mean.”
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br />   I didn’t know how to respond to that. The biggest man-whore in the world, and he didn’t want to sleep with me. Not that I wanted to sleep with him; it just would have been nice if he wanted to. After all, this was a man who would sleep with anyone—well, anyone, except redheads, and except apparently me.

  He looked at my face. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just that you’re like a mate. One of the boys, that’s all.”

  The hole he was digging for himself was getting deeper, and I was ready to start throwing the dirt back in over him.

  “Thanks for the beer. I’ll let myself out.” I turned and headed for the elevator.

  He started following me. “Tara, I don’t understand why you’re upset. I thought that was what you wanted.” He ran his hands through his hair. “We’re friends, right? We’re really good friends.”

  He was holding his hands out to the sides, and he let them drop, slapping his thighs. “What did I say wrong? That was all you wanted.” His hands were back in his hair but he left them there, laced behind his head.

  He was right, and I couldn’t explain why I was so offended by his comments. Maybe it was just because I was still feeling rejected by Riley, but I always thought in the back of my mind that at least Cole found me attractive. Apparently I was wrong. So if Riley didn’t and Cole didn’t want me, then did anyone? Probably not.

  “I’ll see myself out,” I snipped at him, and pressed the button. The elevator was there instantly, of course; it was the penthouse.

  “I’ll walk you home,” Cole said, and got in the elevator with me.

  I got out.

  He got out.

  “I don’t need to be walked. I’m not a dog.”

  I got back in.

  He got back in.

  “Fine, I’ll walk behind you, but I’m walking back to your place to make sure you’re safe.”

  I went to get back out again but he quickly pressed the button and the doors closed. We stood in silence the entire ride down. I chanced a sneaky sideways glance at his face. He looked confused. I, on the other hand, was a cross between fuming and bitterly disappointed.

  As soon as the doors opened, I flew out of the building as if someone had just fired a starting pistol. I needed to get away from him. I could hear him calling out behind me to wait up and stop being ridiculous, but I kept going. Every time he got closer, I sped up to increase the gap. I could have won a walking race at the speed I was going.

  I walked around the corner, and finally slowed down a little. I was now on the main strip, and speed walking looked pretty ridiculous unless you actually were in a race. Besides, there were people everywhere, outside bars and eating at tables on the sidewalk on this warm balmy evening, and I wanted to blend in.

  I walked past a group of guys who had spilled out from a popular English-themed pub, and they asked me if I wanted a drink. I stopped to talk to them. Ha! I’ll give him not attractive enough to sleep with. I smiled sweetly, and was just about to accept the young guy’s kind offer when a hand grabbed hold of my arm.

  “Sorry boys, not tonight,” Cole said as he tried to pull me away.

  One of them went to protest, and asked Cole who he thought he was.

  “I’m her sober sponsor,” he replied in a serious manner, then whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “She’s a recovering alcoholic.”

  What? I looked around at him, stunned, and pulled my arm away. “I can’t believe you just told them I’m an alcoholic!” I was mortified.

  “No I didn’t. I said re-cov-er-ing alcoholic.”

  We were only a block away from my apartment, and I could see my balcony clearly from the street.

  “I’m fine from here. You can go.” I said dismissively, and left him standing on the street shaking his head with his hands on his hips.

  I got home but left the lights off. I went out to the balcony and looked through the trees to the street, and to the revellers below. I could see Cole still standing there, looking up at my apartment, I presumed waiting for some sign that I had made it home in one piece.

  I thought about just going to bed and leaving him standing there all night, but I knew he would be up here in about five minutes to check on me if I didn’t let him know I was home. I went in and turned my lights on and off a couple of times.

  He waved, and then turned around and started the walk home.

  I WAS an idiot. I’d very stupidly decided to tidy up my apartment when I got home from Cole’s. I was too worked up to go to bed, so I’d started cleaning out the drawer and bathroom cupboard that held Riley’s belongings.

  Sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor, I carefully pulled a pair of black jeans, a couple of T-shirts, and some underwear from the drawer. I pulled out a maroon Jag Jeans T-shirt that I had seen Riley wear many times, and held it to my face and inhaled. It still smelled like Riley, and the memories came flooding back once again.

  He had worn that T-shirt in Fiji when we had relaxed in the bar one afternoon, sipping on exotic cocktails before heading back to the bure for some mind-blowing sex. The tears stung my eyes, and my body ached at the memory of it. He had always been such a considerate, tender lover, and had made me feel totally comfortable to be myself, not self-conscious as I had been in the past. I closed my eyes, and could almost feel his touch caressing my body, his lips lightly grazing my neck as they had done so many times in the past.

  I had learnt so much from Riley. I had learnt to believe in myself. I had learnt to trust in my abilities, and to follow my dreams. But my dreams had included him always beside me, and now those dreams were over.

  Sniffling, I opened my eyes, then pulled the T-shirt on over my head.

  I checked in the wardrobe. At the end of the rail against the wall was my favourite blue shirt, the one that had made Riley’s eyes look impossibly blue. He had worn that shirt when we had gone to the Moroccan restaurant, and again on Christmas Day.

  I slid down the wall beside the wardrobe, dropped my head in my hands and sobbed.

  Being the glutton for punishment that I was, I went into the bathroom to see what else I could find. I found his disposable razor still on the shelf. It was just a razor, and could have belonged to anyone, really. But I remembered the time I had shaved his gorgeous face after we returned from Fiji, and the steamy sex we‘d had on the chair in the bathroom. I smiled through my tears at the memory. God, I missed that man.

  I found the bottle of Riley’s cologne I had bought, and just to rub salt in my already gaping wound, I sprayed it on his pillow. I spent the night cuddling his pillow, and sobbing as more memories of our time together came flooding back.

  We had been in bed when Riley had given me my Tiffany & Co bracelet. I still wore that bracelet every day, and would often find myself absentmindedly fingering the charms, in particular the four-leaf clover. I knew I was just torturing myself, but I couldn’t bear to not wear it, just like in the end, I couldn’t bear to dispose of any of his belongings. I put all of Riley’s clothes back into his drawer. I would clean them out some other time.

  I needed a makeover. After my night of reminiscing about Riley, and Cole’s comments about me not being a girl, and quite possibly being the only female on the face of the planet who he didn’t want to sleep with, I was feeling like a bit of a troll.

  So I knocked on Jason’s door, and waited for my Fairy Godmother to answer.

  Jason of course ushered me in, always happy for the company, and the chance for a good gossip. I told him what Cole had said, and it immediately put him on a mission to make me as stunning as humanly possible.

  The salon was closed for the evening but we went down there anyway, and Jason went to work highlighting and cutting my hair until I had the female version of bed hair. It was super sexy, even if I do say so myself, and the lighter colour around my face somehow made my pale-blue eyes pop.

  I was still freshly waxed, and my eyelashes were still tinted black, but Jason suggested an eyebrow tint in a dark brown. He literally wiped the tint
on and a few seconds later wiped it off, but that was all that was needed. The darker colour framed my eyes, and the result was amazing.

  “So, what are you going to wear to Songbirds tomorrow night?” he asked as we stood in front of my wardrobe. “It has to be super sexy. You know he’ll be there; he always is.”

  It was true. Since Cole and I had struck up a friendship, he spent every Monday and Tuesday at the bar listening to me play. And I spent every Saturday there, quite often working while his band played.

  Pulling out a couple of options, I tried them on for Jason’s opinion. Out of all the dresses, the black halter-neck dress I had worn for Riley’s birthday dinner was the winner. It was low-cut, but not obscenely so, and fitted but with a flicky, flirty hem at the bottom.

  For the pièce de résistance, I pulled out my favourite Jimmy Choo metallic sky-high sandals. I had always had a weakness for gorgeous shoes; shoes, and sexy lingerie. I had on occasion worn just the two together and nothing else, for Riley.

  I went to bed feeling happier than I had in a while. I don’t know why it mattered so much what Cole thought, but what he had said had really put a dint in my already deflated self-esteem. I didn’t want to move on from Riley. If I was being honest, I still wanted Riley back, but a little male attention would do wonders for my confidence.

  Jason entered Songbirds before me. He wanted to be there to see Cole’s reaction when I arrived. He sat at the bar beside Cole, and then discreetly sent me a text, letting me know that Cole was there and I should come in—now.

  I walked in, head held high, and went straight to Marcus to greet him as I always did.

  Marcus did a double-take, and raised his eyebrows at me before hugging me. “Wow! You look amazing,” he said appreciatively.

  Good. Score one point for the girl who’s “not a girl”.