“I know,” Lauren said before I was able to come up with a response.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the bed. “You go on that side,” she said. “And anything that I do right now is strictly professional, okay? This is just for fun.”
Cole was on his side, curled up as if spooning someone, except there was no one else there. Well, now there was. Lauren positioned herself behind him like the big spoon.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. “Lie down!”
I did as she said, if only because I couldn’t come up with anything else to do. I lay down, my back to him, and I slid back until I could feel him against me. He took a deep breath and shifted, his forearm moving and coming to rest against my waist. His fingers worked their way underneath the bottom of my shirt, and I felt his warm hand pressing against my side. Just feeling his touch again made my heart surge.
“You’re in the middle of the super deluxe sandwich of your dreams.” Behind me, I could hear Lauren whispering, and I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. I didn’t know what else she was doing back there (and I probably didn’t want to know) but the sandwich comment cracked me up. And Cole’s hand, there on my hip, lightly caressing me even in his sleep, just felt so good I didn’t want to move, regardless of whatever else it was that Lauren was doing. “You know you want to take a big bite,” she continued to croon. “You just want to open your mouth as wide as you can and stick that delicious tongue of yours out and just taste this sandwich…”
I couldn’t hold it back much longer—one peal of laughter burst from me, followed by another, and another. And then Cole started to stir.
Chapter 21
Cole
It was a dream, of course. I’d gone to bed early that night after getting home from the “date” with Melanie. I hadn’t bothered to eat anything, and I’d tried to find something to watch on Netflix but couldn’t seem to focus on anything, so I had just gone to bed, making sure my alarm was set for the next morning.
This dream, though, it was great—Stella had come back. Except there were two of her, two Stellas, luxuriating in lying up against me. It was an entirely realistic dream, because I was in my bed, and I felt sort of sleepy, and the feel of Stella’s skin underneath my fingertips was exactly how I remembered it. Except there was this other voice whispering something in my ear, a voice that wasn’t Stella’s. I wasn’t sure whose voice it was. Something about a sandwich?
Then there were giggles, and the bed shook, and everything seemed so real, that for a second, I was certain it wasn’t a dream at all.
And then I realized: it wasn’t. I was awake.
I pulled my arm back and bolted upright in a tangle of sheets, except I couldn’t really sit all the way up because I was surrounded. There was someone on either side of me.
But I knew that person I’d just been touching—even if this wasn’t a dream, I just knew that it was Stella. There was enough light coming in from the streetlight that I could see her outline and tell that it was indeed her. I was grinning even as I wondered who the hell this other person was.
“Stella?” I said.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, still laughing. “Yes, it’s me. And that other person is Lauren.”
“You guys are in my bed with me?”
Lauren dissolved into giggles again. “Isn’t that like every guy’s fantasy? To wake up and find himself sandwiched between two smokin’ babes?”
“Yeah, I’d be a fool not to want it.”
“Well, big boy, the action stops here, unfortunately,” Lauren said. “For me, anyway.”
I leaned over and turned on the light that was on my bedside table. I blinked, still trying to get my brain to understand just what was going on.
“How’d you guys get in here?”
“The fire escape,” Stella said. “And you left your bedroom window open.”
Lauren grinned. “Maybe you shouldn’t do that.”
“I like a little air circulation when I’m sleeping.” I looked at Stella, then Lauren, then back at Stella. “Wow, though. This was really the last thing I was expecting. Not that I’m complaining. Come here.” I pulled Stella toward me, wrapped my arms around her. “I missed you,” I said softly into her hair. Mmm, her hair smelled so good, like flowers in spring. I inhaled deeply. “I kind of thought I’d never see you again.”
“I couldn’t let that happen,” she said. “I don’t care what my parents say.”
“Oh, my God, you two, I think I’m going to barf,” Lauren said, but she was grinning. “I’d tell you to get a room, but since I’m already in your bedroom…” She looked at me. “Got Netflix?”
“Yeah.”
“I assume the living room is that way. Netflix and chill for one.”
She got up and started to leave. “Hey,” Stella said. “You don’t have to—”
“Oh, but I do,” Lauren said, pulling the door shut gently behind her.
Stella and I looked at each other for several seconds now that we were alone, neither of us saying anything, just connected by this intense energy that was almost palpable.
“I really mean that,” I finally said, breaking the silence, breaking my gaze to look up at the ceiling before meeting her eye again. “I really don’t think I can put into words how completely devastated I would be if I never saw you again.” In the back of my mind, I knew how ridiculous I sounded, like, who is this sap? I barely even knew this person. I was getting way too far ahead of myself. I needed to slow things down, take things one day at a time. But this wasn’t AA! I wanted Stella to know that I felt that strongly about her. That I wasn’t afraid to be completely candid about how much I truly adored her. Yes, I was potentially setting myself up for a spectacular rejection—but then again, she was the one who had just climbed up the fire escape into my room, wasn’t she?
She moved forward, pushing on my chest with her hand until I was flat on my back.
“Are you sure…?” I started to say, but she put her fingertips to her lips and shook her head.
“Quiet,” she said, a slow smiling spreading across her face. She reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it off with both hands. My own hands went to her hips, then I lightly traced a forefinger along her taut lower belly, right above the waist of her jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said, “and I just want you to lie back and enjoy.”
Well, okay then.
Chapter 22
Stella
That had not exactly been my plan—to sneak into Cole’s and seduce him like that—though I probably should have guessed that’s exactly what was going to happen. I wasn’t sure how long Lauren was going to hang out in the living room for, but I took my time, undressing myself first, feeling only a wisp or two of self-consciousness as Cole’s hands ran the length of my torso, over the scars. The self-consciousness was obliterated by the fact that I could tell he was enjoying himself so much, because he was enjoying me. I was pretty certain I would never tire of that feeling, of knowing how much pleasure someone was getting because of me.
We had just finished and were lying next to each other when there was a knock at the door, and then Lauren poked her head in.
“Hello, lovebirds,” she said. “So, I think I’m going to head back. This couch of yours is comfortable, Cole, but my bed is calling. There’s an Uber on the way.” She looked at me. “I’ll cover for you, okay?”
I smiled. “Thanks.” I looked over at Cole. “Actually... is it... is it okay if I stay over here?”
“Of course it is.” He paused. “Except... I have to get up early tomorrow. There’s this thing I have to go to. But please. You can stay. You can stay for as long as you want.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Lauren said in a singsong voice. She smothered a yawn with the back of her hand. “All right, I’m about to pass out right here in the hallway. Have fun, you two.”
After she left, I snuggled back up against Cole, sleepiness finally descendi
ng.
“Thank you,” Cole whispered, his mouth right next to my ear.
“For what?” I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was almost asleep.
“Everything,” he said.
***
I woke up to Cole’s arms around me. I had never really enjoyed snuggling, but lying there in his arms seemed like the most natural thing in the world. A few minutes later, his alarm started to go off, and he jerked away, fumbling for it on the bedside table. He finally got it to go off, and then he turned and looked at me, a sleepy grin on his face.
“Ah, good,” he said, stretching. “I thought that had all been a very pleasant dream last night. But if it had been, you wouldn’t be here right now.” He kissed my forehead. “I can’t believe this, though. Of all the days that I have to actually get up. Goddamn. Believe me when I say leaving this bed is the last thing I want to do. But I have to.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“Let me at least make you breakfast.”
“No.” I pushed the covers back and stood up, stretched. I hadn’t gotten that much sleep last night, but I felt surprisingly refreshed. “Let me make breakfast for you. You’re the one who has to get ready to go, anyway.”
“Really?” he said, and the happiness in his voice was unmistakable.
“Yes,” I said. “People are always making me food. I’d like to return the favor for once.”
“Well, I’ve never made you food before.”
How was I supposed to explain to him that I wanted to do something for someone else for once? And that this was really like the first time the feeling had truly overcome me? I’d probably sound like a spoiled, overprivileged brat if I tried to explain it to him.
I went out into the kitchen, listening as he whistled some song as he turned the shower on. His apartment was very cute, not the sort of gross guy apartment one might expect a single guy his age to be living in. I opened cupboards, checked in the fridge. There was a carton of eggs, a half loaf of wholegrain bread, an avocado on the counter. I wasn’t much of a chef, but I could handle this. Oh, yes, and coffee.
As I busied myself at the counter, I let myself fall into the fantasy that this was my home, that Cole and I lived here together, that we had a simple but happy life. I had a job somewhere, and we both worked hard to make ends meet. We had good jobs, though, so we were able to save money to take a nice vacation once or twice a year. What would that sort of life be like? It seemed better than the life I was living, because the life I was living wasn’t entirely my own. I wasn’t financially independent, and because of that, my parents felt as if they had the final say. But I was an adult—I wasn’t some kid. Maybe it was now time to start thinking about alternative options. When I’d been racing, my schedule had always been pretty hectic; I’d never really stay in the same place for long. During the off-season, my parents’ house served as my home base, but that was interspersed with trips down to La Jolla and New Zealand. The idea of me getting my own place didn’t really make much sense then, because I was never really in one place long enough. But now I was. And now maybe it made sense to start thinking about doing things on my own, even if it meant pissing my parents off.
When Cole got out of the shower, the coffee was ready and the breakfast was done. It was a fried egg with avocado on toast. Not the most beautiful thing, but I hoped it would at least taste good. And Cole’s whole face lit up when he came out of the bathroom, his hair spiky with dampness, and he saw the plate of food and the coffee mug on the table.
“Wow,” he said. He came over and gave me a kiss. “You’re incredible. Thank you.”
The food didn’t taste that bad; I was rather proud of myself—not that I was going to let on to that fact. I really loved that the two of us were sitting here at his little kitchen table, enjoying breakfast together, like a couple. That was nice.
“Ugh, I hate that I have to go to this stupid thing!” Cole said, pushing his plate back once he was finished. “Really, it’s the last thing I feel like doing right now. You can stay here as long as you’d like. I hate to run off on you like this.”
“Don’t feel bad,” I said. “I’ll stay a little longer and then I’ll probably head back home.” I smiled. “I wish you didn’t have to go, either, though. Maybe I’ll sneak back over tonight.”
“I would love that. Except I also have this thing to go to tomorrow, too.”
“What about Sunday night?” I wanted us to be able to lounge in bed all day, if we wanted to.
“That would be perfect.”
He gave me a long, lingering kiss, and then he was gone, leaving me alone in his apartment. I didn’t want to leave. I would, of course—I would go back home and tell my mom I’d had a great girls’ night, that it had been exactly what I needed. And then I would pack a bag and tell my mom that I was going to visit a friend somewhere. Grace. Yes. I’d tell her I was going to go visit Grace, even though Grace was probably in Val di Sole by now. Whatever—my mother wouldn’t know that. And instead of visiting Grace, I would stay over here, just for a few days. We’d lie low, and if Cole had to go to work, I’d hang out here.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to get an Uber, but saw I had several text messages, all from that unknown number:
You are playing a dangerous game.
I don’t think you realize just how dangerous.
It would be in your best interest to stop.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket without bothering with the Uber. I decided I’d just walk instead; I was in no rush to get home. I was more mad than anything else—my day had actually been going pretty well and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it get spoiled by whatever asshole was sending me these stupid texts.
***
When I got back home, I figured it would be better to find my mother right away and tell her I had a great time with Lauren and that girls’ time was exactly what I needed. So much so, in fact, that I was now planning to go visit my friend Grace for an undetermined period of time. There was a part of me that felt wonderfully devious, like I was pulling a fast one on her, like sneaking out of my bedroom window one night freshman year of high school to go off to some beach party with Lauren. We’d never gotten caught for that, and it was one of my fondest memories. It had just been so much fun; everyone had been having a good time, and there wasn’t a single negative vibe in the air. The way I felt with Cole replicated that feeling, though in a different sort of way. I couldn’t have stayed at that party for the rest of my life, but I had thought about what it might be like to get to spend the rest of my life with Cole. To feel this every day.
Shut up, I thought now. Don’t be a fool. That is never going to happen.
That part of me was loud and frankly sort of obnoxious—demanding, needy, insistently pessimistic. Why was I getting my hopes up with Cole? Didn’t I know how stupid that would be? How nothing between us would work out, no matter how great or happy it made me feel right now?
The part of me that believed all that negative self-talk also believed that that sort of great love would happen to others but certainly not me. I would probably end up single, secretly pining for a husband and a brood of children, a nanny, or au pair, or whatever it was. I would play it off like it didn’t bother me, but it would. That was how this part of me assumed the rest of my life would go.
But now I had met Cole—a fact that I almost couldn’t let myself believe. I certainly couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud to anyone, but that was just for now. I wanted to wait and see how things went. If it turned out that things between Cole and me actually could work out, could sustain the sort of madly in love that I really, truly did want, (when I was honest with myself), then I would broadcast that to the world. I would post sickeningly sweet photos of the two of us, pair it with some self-deprecating caption, and use hastags like #love, #happy, #boyfriend, #relationshipgoals. Okay, maybe (hopefully) I wouldn’t be that bad, but I would try to be an inspiration to other people out there who maybe at one point had
believed something similar to what I had thought—that I would end up alone. That I would never find that one person in life whom you can truly be yourself around, that person you feel like you would do anything for. Because that was how I felt right now.
I found my mother in the atrium with Gareth, talking about an upcoming orchid show they were thinking of going to.
“Lillian said the tickets were all sold out,” my mother was saying. “But I told her not to worry about that because all I needed to do was call the event organizer and tell them who I was and that I was interested in attending. Everything will be taken care of and they will—”
“Excuse me,” I said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but—” They both swiveled their eyes in my direction, Gareth cutting me off before I could even finish my sentence.
“It’s no bother,” he said, and then spun on his heel as if he couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” He trotted off before either of us could say anything. My mother looked at me expectantly.
“Yes?” she said. “You’re back—how was Lauren’s?”
“It was good. You were right—I just needed some girl time.”
My mother was clearly pleased that her idea had seemed to work. “I knew that would help.”
“It did. In fact, it helped so much that I’m going to take a little trip.”
“A trip? Where?”
“You probably don’t remember her, but I’m going to visit my friend Grace Whitcomb. We used to ride together. It’ll be even more girl time, which I think will only help me more. So that’s okay—right? You don’t mind? I’m not exactly sure how long I’ll be gone for. I just want to sort of play things by ear.”
“Oh,” my mother said, clearly disappointed that I wasn’t going to be visiting someone more to her liking. “A bike trip? That’s what this is?”
“No. I mean, we might go for a little ride or something, but it’s mostly just going to be so we can catch up. We haven’t seen each other in ages. Just... have girl time together. You know.”
Parker Security Complete Series Page 41