The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3)

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The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3) Page 37

by Blair Holden


  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “I thought we discussed this! No more surprises, my poor heart can’t take all of this.”

  He leans in and kisses me thoroughly and deeply until the whistles and catcalls of the people around us force me to get to my feet and for him to stop.

  “As long as I can still get this reaction from you, you bet your ass I’ll keep doing this.”

  Beth laughs behind me. “You realize how hard it was for me to keep her down here for more than two drinks?”

  Turning around, I point an accusing finger at Judas. “I can’t believe you didn’t warn me! I’m on day-four hair right now.”

  She raises her hands, palms facing me. “Hey, I was working on pretty short notice here. But now that your one-and-only’s here, I should get going. Don’t want to get in the way of your catching up, now do I?” She winks at the two of us, grabs her things, and is out the door with a hurriedly muttered apology and a see-you-later thrown my way.

  “So,” Cole wraps his arms around my waist, pressing his chest to my back, “how about that catch-up?”

  Chapter Ten: You Can’t Live with Them, Can’t Order a Mob Hit on Them Either

  Boys will be boys.

  I hate that phrase, I really do. What does it even mean? What is this universal pass that allows the opposite sex to act like complete imbeciles, and that behavior is explained by that one infuriating phrase, that boys will be boys? I grit my teeth and try not to bite off my dad’s head through the phone because that’s exactly what he tells me.

  “No, Dad, not buying it. I might honestly need you to send in that helicopter you once mentioned.”

  “Tess, honey, it’s not like I’ve got one parked in the garage.” He chuckles and my blood boils. I take a look at the pair seated on opposite sides of the vinyl booth and consider tipping the waitress a little extra if she could just slip a little bit of laxative in their drinks.

  “But you do technically own one, right?”

  He hesitates, clears his throat, and then obviously gives in. “I do,” he sighs, “but it’s nowhere near where you are right now, so I would suggest that you stick with your car.”

  “But Dad, it’s either the helicopter or homicide. You pick.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  Oh, but it is, exactly that bad.

  Only the Stone brothers could make a two-hour journey back home feel like the descent to hell, right from Greek mythology. I felt like I was Persephone, languishing in hell for half of the year as I tried to drive these two demons back to our hometown. Now that we’d stopped for food, I’d been contemplating dining and ditching, knowing that they were more than capable of finding their own way. Either they would arrive home, both of them intact, or one of their corpses would end up in the woods.

  Of course I’m rooting for my man, but it would be so great if he didn’t turn into a sociopath around his stepbrother.

  “Would you like me to send in reinforcements?”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the Farrow Hills Police Department, to make sure those boys don’t get ahead of themselves?”

  I sigh; it shouldn’t have to be this difficult. Gazing at their table, watching Cole and Jay bicker like it’s going out of fashion, I realize that the fact that they were usually separated by considerable land mass is a blessing, and that perhaps holidays would always be a nightmare. Someone needed to step up and make sure that they learned how to get along and not treat each other like the scum of the earth.

  That someone would have to be me.

  “Don’t worry, Dad, I’m over the theatrics. I’ll get them home.” I blow out a breath and hang up on him and store in my memory the fact that my father owns a helicopter.

  “Boys,” I say, walking toward them and slipping into the booth next to Cole. “Have you ordered?”

  “No,” they both say in unison and resume glaring at one another.

  I see a poor, terrified waitress hovering nearby, pen and paper gripped tightly in her hands. I try to kindly signal her over because she looks like she’s both entranced and scared to death of these two, obviously good-looking guys who’re both looking like they’re about to burst out of their clothing and go all Hulk on each other’s behinds.

  I really need to sort out this mess, it’s Thanksgiving break for crying out loud, and I’m in the middle of throwing an over-the-top, slightly extravagant and completely against Beth’s guidelines, engagement party for my brother and best friend. These boys need to get it together because I did not spend the budget of a small family’s trip to a luxury island resort in Thailand on this party to have two testosterone-fueled grown men act like toddlers.

  We place our order amid the glaring match and the waitress scurries away.

  Beneath the table I kick Cole’s foot to have his glare directed toward me, but it softens significantly when he looks at me.

  “What?”

  “You realize that between school and work, I’ve hardly seen you, and now that I’ve finally gotten you back, you’re only interested in getting into these weird staring contests with your brother. Honestly, if you want, I could just call and Uber and the two of you can spend some quality time driving home by yourselves.”

  His jaw goes slack and then he blinks as though having a moment of clarity, and I can almost see the clouds parting and light streaming down from the cracks in the ceiling above us.

  Almost.

  But I think I’ve made my point.

  “Tessie...I...I’m so sorry.”

  “You seem to be spending a lot of time apologizing to me lately. How about we make sure that doesn’t happen anymore this weekend?”

  I see the resolve settle in and with an almost-steely-yet-humorous determination, Cole nods his head. “Got it, no more fucking up.”

  “Thanks, much appreciated.” I give him a quick kiss, which he tries to prolong, but PDA still make me oddly uncomfortable, especially if it’s in front of one particular Jason Stone.

  “And you,” I point to the man in question, “stop baiting him, I see what you’re trying to do here, and I swear on my collection of Pixar-themed pajamas, I will go right up to your mother and tell her about the questionable figure who showed up on my doorstep, wearing only a trench coat and looking for you.” Beside me, Cole attempts to suppress a chuckle and Jay gapes.

  “Look, I met her in a bar and we got talking. I had no idea that she was a...” he hisses.

  “You still led her to believe that you were interested in making some sort of a transaction and she followed you to my place. Do you realize how hard it is for me to show my face in the lobby these days?”

  Jay’s face reddens and with a self-satisfied smirk, I settle back into my seat feeling like a total badass. With both the boys in control, I have a feeling the next hour of the journey will be a lot more peaceful.

  ***

  “Get off dickhead, we’re here.”

  A girl can only hope.

  “I have eyes, jackass. Don’t worry, I won’t be breathing your toxic air for a second more than necessary.” The two Stones stomp and huff and puff, and I nearly let Jay get out of a running car rather than stand this stupid confrontation a second longer. He doesn’t mind that I throw his bags at him because I’m guessing two hours in a car together is really all they can manage. How they were able to live under the same roof is still a mystery to me and makes me wonder if the sheriff and Cassandra practice voodoo on the side.

  Once we drop Jay off, I make the short drive to my own house in utter silence but can practically hear Cole groveling. Wordlessly, I park the car in our garage, grab my bags, and head inside. Cole is hot on my heels and as I keep ignoring him and greet my dad, there is an obvious elephant in the room but my father, bless him, is smart enough to not broach the subject.

  “So...” he awkwardly rubs his palms together, “you guys hungry? There’re some leftovers in the fridge that’ll fill you up till dinner. How does that sound?”


  Right, dinner with Cole’s family tonight. This just keeps getting better and better.

  “Sounds great, Dad. I’m going to go take a quick shower and then you can put me to work.”

  He waves it off. “The caterer’s got it all taken care of, but I know you love to make dessert together so we’re all set for that tomorrow.”

  As I begin to lug my bags to my room, Cole tries to help and follow me, but Dad intervenes again with his telepathic superpowers and not so casually steers him in the opposite direction, telling him that there’s something wrong with his lawn mower.

  An intuitive father is definitely something I’m thankful for, because had Cole tried to have a conversation with me after the journey from hell, I could foresee myself hurling several heavy objects toward him. Ever since Cole had surprised me by flying to the city first, I’d been dreaming about just how wonderful this holiday break could be. With the building distance between us, the unsaid words and the non-verbalized frustration of keeping things from one another, we desperately needed this time to reconnect. But the fact that the entire day, from the moment we woke up till I literally had to kick Jay out of my running car, had been all about Cole acting like the kind of toddler that makes people not want to procreate. I don’t begrudge Jay anything because I have zero expectations where he’s concerned. He’s not my boyfriend, the love of my life, that one person who won’t get tired of having to eat the same flavor ice cream all year long because I only keep one flavor in my fridge. No, I’m not mad at Jay, because I don’t care what he does, but of course with Cole, I’d been stupid enough to think that our time together would be more important to him than some childish feud with his brother.

  Obviously, I’d been wrong.

  I take a scalding hot shower in the hopes of washing off some of my anger, but that doesn’t work. Instead as I get dressed and stomp downstairs, I’m still seething, and seeing Cole helping out my dad in the kitchen with dinner, whistling as though nothing is wrong, really gets on my nerves.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I call out to both of them, scrambling to grab my phone and wallet before beelining for the door. I don’t want questions and I don’t want interventions. Just thinking about this morning, which I thought would start out with a romantic breakfast in bed and lead to all kinds of fun things in bed but instead turned into a battle of the egos.

  Ugh, men. You can’t live with them, can’t order a mob hit on them either. But it’s especially disappointing when you think your boyfriend would’ve grown past his caveman tendencies.

  “Hey, hey, wait up.” Cole chases after me, of course he does, and I ignore him. If he thinks it’s okay for me to be stuck in the middle of some pointless family feud that’s been brewing for ages, on a day when I thought we’d finally have some time alone outside of his weird little family back in Chicago and my work, then he’s got another thing coming.

  “Tessie, I’m sorry.”

  “Aren’t you tired of apologizing? Because I sure am sick of hearing you say sorry.” I’d managed to only throw on a pair of leggings and a thin sweater, so the cold November air seeps into my skin, making me shiver. I wrap my arms tightly around myself, wishing that the hair I’d piled on top of my head wasn’t still wet. Jesus, my teeth start chattering and I realize very quickly that this walk is an extremely bad idea. Bridesmaids with pneumonia aren’t the most fun.

  “Here, yell at me all you want but put this on.”

  He’d grabbed my coat, how thoughtful of him.

  Jerk.

  I stand there like an obstinate child as he wraps me up and sure enough, I don’t feel like a human popsicle anymore.

  “Thanks.”

  Sneaky as he is, Cole takes the moment to wrap me in his arms and pull me toward his chest. I pretend to resist for a minute but, surrounded by his warmth, I’m left with little choice but to rest my forehead right above his heart and breathe in his delicious scent. He smells like cinnamon because he’d been helping Dad get started on the baking, but of course he also smells like Cole, that woodsy, citrusy-clean scent that I’ve always associated with him.

  I might be mad at the guy, but of course I’ll be the first to admit it when he smells downright edible.

  “I’m mad at you,” I mumble into his jacket.

  His hold around me tightens. “I know. I’m so sorry, Shortcake. Today should’ve been about us, and I let my own stupidity get in the way. It’s just...you know why it’s hard for me.”

  “I know, and I can’t believe how that’s still an issue for you all these years later.” I close my eyes, beyond frustrated with the fact that Cole would still have any reason to be jealous of Jay. How could I possibly explain to him that what I feel for him goes above and beyond my feelings for his brother? Nothing, I feel absolutely nothing for Jay. Half the time I hang out with the guy, I’m not even sure if I like him. But I’d come across as so pathetic if I tell Cole that sometimes when you’re lonely and aren’t exactly stellar at making friends, it’s the people that you have history with, people you know are safe territory that you turn toward. And that’s what Jay is for me, that safe area.

  But I bet saying that out loud won’t make this situation any better.

  “I woke up this morning, wanting to make you breakfast, but Jay was already there, waiting to be let in. Apparently he’s a regular?” Cole raises a brow and waits for me to explain but I don’t really owe him an explanation.

  Especially not when I think about Mel and Lainey, because really that would be ridiculous.

  “We were going to drive back together, it made sense.” I move away from his orbit a little, already feeling cold again, but this time it’s got little to do with the weather.

  “What sucks is that I know that.” He growls through gritted teeth and I can see my frustration mirrored in him. Cole doesn’t want to have this conversation any more than I do, but something compels him to continue being plagued by this ridiculous insecurity of his.

  And I remember how he’s always been there for me, my rock and my safe haven through every single insecurity I’ve ever battled. To other people they may have appeared to be insignificant, but Cole’s never taken them lightly, so even though right now I feel like banging my head against the wall, I listen.

  “Can we keep walking?” Cole asks, taking my hand in his. “I think people are starting to watch.”

  We’d stopped just outside of my neighborhood and sure enough, there were plenty of eyes watching us from their windows, and some of them might even step outside to get an earful because hey, it’s a small town and we live for the drama. So I squeeze his hand and let him walk us to our old haunt, that park where we’ve made one too many memories.

  On the way there, he finally talks.

  “I just...I’m not used to him being around you anymore, I guess. And when he walked in, carrying your usual coffee and breakfast order, it threw me off a little.”

  “Cole, just because he knows how I like my lattes and my love for pain au chocolat, doesn’t mean that we’ve established this deep, unbreakable bond over the course of the short period of time he’s been in New York.”

  “You don’t need to remind me, I know, okay...I know.”

  “But?”

  “But he’s so smug about it!” Cole kicks at the ground. “He couldn’t help but rub it in my face that he knows which bakery makes your favorite croissant and how much sugar you like in your coffee. He knew which cabinet you kept the dishes in, which frikin’ plate you liked to use in the morning. The ease with which he moved around that place, where I haven’t ever managed to spend a decent amount of time? Yeah, not the greatest feeling.”

  He scowls, and despite trying my best and biting my lip so hard that I tasted blood, I start laughing. I laugh so hard and so loud that my boyfriend has to press me close to him and kiss me just so that I’d shut up. I go all-in to the kiss, though, because his little ramble has done wonderful things for my heart.

  Bless him, he’s so jealous, and I kind of love it.


  I wrap myself around him like a vine and just like that, my anger dissipates because I understand. I know exactly how he feels because the kind of irrational jealousy he’s experiencing right now is the kind I’ve dealt with throughout my relationship with him. There’s always been a girl around the corner, watching and waiting for me to mess up so that she could swoop right in and replace me. I’ve seen them come in every shape, size, and color and through it all, I like to think I’ve come out stronger. I don’t get jealous the way I used to, so to see the tables turning and for Cole to be the one having to deal with those feelings? It doesn’t feel good, but I’m glad that he understands.

  When he finally lets me come up for air, we’re both breathless and greedily inhaling some air. My lips feel swollen and Cole’s hair is all messed up. I see my lipstick over the corner of his mouth and I try to rub it off with my thumb, but when he licks the thumb in question, I all but disintegrate.

  “We’re in public, Stone,” I remind him, and his response is to slip his hands up my top and caress the sensitive skin of my back.

  “I don’t care. I’ve wasted enough time as it is acting like a dumbass when I should’ve never removed my hands from your body.”

  “A dumbass, hmm, I think you’re going a bit easy on yourself. I’d say you acted more like a—”

  He slaps a hand over my mouth before I can finish the sentence. “I realize that I was jealous of a breakfast plate’ you don’t need to make it worse.”

  “Oh, I think I do,” I mumble beneath his fingers, because really, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds.

  He removes his hand, only to kiss me again, and it’s like whatever barrier there previously was between us, whatever damage the distance and time apart had done, has all been fixed because we can’t keep our hands off each other.

  “Still want to go to the park?” Cole asks in the middle of another dizzying kiss.

  “My dad did say he had to go out to his office for some last-minute work emergency.”

  “Back to your house then?”

  “Back to my house.”

 

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