Falling in Love With My Ex’s Best

by Izabella Brooks

  I step forward. I still can’t believe I’m here. Doing this. With Cozzie. My heart brutalizes my chest, nearly punching its way out. I inhale sharply to steady myself, but instead I take in Cozzie’s sweet scent, like tropical flowers after a rain and it does things to me. Things I can’t describe.

  I reach out, my hand shaking, and set it gently on Cozzie’s chin. She’s so warm. So gloriously, amazingly warm. Her skin is smooth silk and my fingers are so much rougher I almost feel the rasp against it. Her eyes flutter and close. My heart beats all over and my pulse spikes violently. I can’t breathe. I’m lost. I’ve been lost for so long. Like her, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be me. To feel anything at all. I’ve stamped it out for so many years, stamped it down. I can’t begin to fathom what it means to be me.

  I want to find out. I want to find out with her.

  I have no idea if this will work, if it could ever go anywhere. I know it could hurt both of us. A lot. I know I’d rather die first. I know all of it, but I still lean in like after all the decades of pain and frustration and shutting down, this was supposed to happen all along.

  Our awakening.

  Chapter 10

  Cozzie

  I’m naked.

  Okay, not really. I’m standing in the middle of the park, fully clothed and sweating under them, a cold sweat from my adrenaline inspired run, but the sweat lingers, clammy, warming up with the rest of me. I feel naked though. I feel like everything has been stripped away. The walls I never fully realized I’d built up. The pain, the numbness, the basic belief that I was, essentially, flawed. It all comes crashing down, exposing my nakedness and my vulnerability.

  Trell’s hands are huge. They’re alive, one tilting my face up, the other sliding to the back of my neck protectively. My eyes are already closed. I want to open them, but the lids feel weiged down. My lips part, to try suck breath into my aching lungs, but Trell’s mouth crashes over mine, shocking me, even though I asked him to do this.

  His lips are soft but unyielding. They demand surrender and I give it to him because I have no other choice. I let down my walls, inviting him straight in to my soul. His lips move against mine like fine music, a complex art form that leaves me straining and breathless. My nipples harden beneath my clothing and a pool of moisture floods between my legs. A volley of shivers trace their way up my spine and liquid heat detonates in my belly and my chest.

  My hand is still on his chest and it feels like my palm is on fire. I want more. I want him to deepen that kiss. I want him to drink my breath and give me his. I wouldn’t care if our teeth knocked together like the first time or if he kissed me so hard that I drooled down my chin. I wouldn’t care if it was embarrassing or wild or filled with aching need.

  Considering where we are, Trell keeps the kiss pretty PG. From a distance, if anyone was watching, it might have looked like our heads were bent close as we discussed a secret. He pulls away before I’m ready, and when I come crashing back into myself and realize we’re still standing in the middle of a park, my body gets hot with embarrassment.

  Trell pulls away, a little awkward as well. We both glance around before we look at each other.

  “Was that okay?” he asks, uncertain, like we’re twelve and we just kissed behind the school during recess.

  “It was fine.” Fine doesn’t even begin to cover it, and I think he gets that from my raspy, broken breathing.

  Trell’s eyes sweep the park. “I think this is mostly for kids. We should probably leave before someone calls the cops or yells out their window for us to get a room.”

  I give him a wobbly smile because I know what he’s trying to do. “Sure. I think I’ll go, though. It’s going to be awkward in there.”

  “I could give you a ride.”

  “I came with my sister. I drove, so it’s alright.”

  Trell’s lips arch into a smile that looks painful and forced. We kissed. So what? What does that mean? What’s our next move? I think we’re both trying to figure it out, fumbling and drowning in the process.

  “She could take your car home for you. Or not. If you don’t want.”

  I have to close my eyes because I can’t take looking at Trell anymore. He’s beautiful. God, his face looks like it was carved by angels. He doesn’t even look human. I know he’s taken a lot of shit over the years for how beautiful he is, those god-like features combined with rugged planes and those dark velvet eyes with otherworldly lashes. Kissing him feels like looking at him. Dangerous. Sensual. Not entirely human—and I mean that in a good way. His isn’t the kind of face you forget. No, his is the kind of face that haunts you with its ethereal beauty and the touch of sadness and the pain I now know is there, just below the surface.

  I finally rip my eyes open. “You mean you’d give me a ride home? Right now? If she doesn’t want to come?”

  “Or anywhere.” Trell doesn’t dumb down the intensity in his gaze. “Your place. Mine. The ice cream stand that serves waffle cones upside down on the overflowing, ten thousand calorie creations they come up with, your mall, the antique store Arla loves so much, to a movie…wherever. Wherever you want to go.”

  I dig the toe of my boot into the grass.

  Are we really doing this? What exactly is this? God, I’m so out of touch with dating. I always assumed I’d grow old with Bryn. I assumed it and I’m ashamed because right now, in this moment, everything is so crystal clear that it’s painful. My whole body aches. I thought I’d stopped loving Bryn a few years ago, but I never stopped to realize that I loved him in all the wrong ways. Like my best friend. My protector. My confidant. I loved him, but it was never with that passionate, fiery, burning love that I now realize I should have felt. I never had shivers. I was never weak in the knees. It never consumed all of me to the point where I was mindless and boneless. I never felt it straight to my soul. I thought all of that stuff was just for romance novels.

  I was wrong. I was so wrong. I don’t even know where I’d be if Bryn hadn’t come to me a year ago and confessed that he didn’t feel it anymore, if he ever did. We were wrong for each other. We were wrong, maybe from the start, and it terrifies me and makes me ache straight to the bottom of my lungs and the pit of my stomach and the soles of my feet that maybe Bryn and I just threw away nearly a decade and a half to learn a very hard lesson.

  There’s the other small, hopeful part of me that argues that I shouldn’t throw this away now. Now, when I actually feel. Now when I feel like I’m awake. I’m not used to the wild stir of sensation, emotion, hormones, whatever you want to call it. I’m just so used to Bryn already knowing everything about me, that it’s crazy to think about having to intentionally put myself out there and let my guard down. I’m completely flustered, but I also know that I can’t keep running and hiding. That’s never been how I want to live my life. That’s not me.

  This is Trell. Trell, who I’ve known for as long as I’ve known Bryn. Trell, who is safe and caring and a good friend. But he’s not just that. Not anymore. Ever since that first kiss at his house, he’s had the potential to get inside my world and create the most massive explosion.

  “It’s up to you, Coz. This is about you,” Trell says.

  His words cause a flurry of goosebumps to erupt all over my skin. “It’s not,” I whisper. “It’s not all about me. That’s the problem. You’ve made yourself into a martyr for the past thirteen years. I don’t want you to have to keep doing that.”

  Trell barks out an uncomfortable laugh. “I’ve hardly been a martyr. Don’t think that. I don’t have any regrets. The only regret I’d have is not letting you know how I feel now that I have the chance. It’s like a do-over. I don’t want to pressure you or force you though.”

  Can I take a chance? Can I find out what it means to actually live again? Can I trust Trell? This new Trell, the one I knew nothing about before? The one who, if I give the word, is going to transform into so much more than just a friend?

  I swallow hard. Trell is so close. I want him clo
se. I want his hand twisted through mine. I want his lips on mine. I want him to help me come alive again, even if that’s scary. With Bryn, I got used to being safe and that turned into hurt, which morphed quickly into indifference as we grew apart. I’m so unused to the idea of caring, hurting, taking risks, fear, all of it. What’s the alternative though? What I’ve been doing? That’s not living, and the thought of going back to my silent apartment is enough to make me cringe.

  “You know, that ice cream place sounds good. I haven’t been there in forever.”

  “You think it will be lined up on Valentine’s Day?”

  “I’m sure it will be an unbearable wait.”

  Trell grins. “You’re on, then. I could use a bit of that.”

  “My tote and keys and everything are in Arla’s living room. I’ll get them. I’ll talk to Taye. See if she can bring my car back. If she minds that I’m ditching her after causing the scene of the century.”

  “You didn’t. That was all Bryn and me. Your sister is a freaking hero.”

  My lips wobble. “I don’t think anyone’s ever shut Bryn up so fast.”

  “Don’t worry. Everyone will come around. It’ll just take some time. I promise. It’s going to be fine. All of it. I can go in and get your stuff. Talk to Taye. You can wait in my car if you want.”

  I know it’s the easy way out. The cop out of all cop outs. I know I should tell him no, but I just can’t bring myself to face anyone at the moment. I just need a day to try to come up with answers. I know Bree and Arla will be beating down my door tomorrow, seeing as it’s Sunday. I should dig out those stupid, hideous big girl panties, but one giant leap out of my comfort zone into the unknown is pretty much all I can handle at the moment.

  I surprise myself by reaching out and curling my hand through Trell’s, so that our fingers are intertwined. It surprises me even more how natural it feels when his big palm rests protectively against mine.

  “Okay,” I breathe. “Come get me if you need backup.”

  Trell grins at me, a smile I’ve never seen before, one that reaches all the way to his dark, liquid eyes. I didn’t even know there was a difference. That before, when he smiled, he wasn’t smiling with everything. That he was holding something back. He’s not holding back now.

  He’s jumping fearlessly into this, opening himself up, giving me everything, risking it all. He’s giving me the opportunity to hurt him every bit as much as I fear opening up and being hurt. Knowing it, realizing that this big, strong, giant of a man with the baby face and the softest eyes and a heart of pure gold makes me feel so much safer.

  I know Trell. I’ve known him forever. He’s always had my back. He’s been there through it all, not just for me, but for Bryn and the rest of our friends. He’s a part of us, even with his little eccentricities. This new Trell that I don’t fully know, he fearlessly took a risk for me and shoved his heart out there to be wounded and battered and bloodied if need be. Maybe I can meet him a tenth of the way. Maybe I can take risks too and get to know the man we all thought we knew, because old Trell or new Trell, I know I can trust him. I know he’d never hurt me.

  Safe in that knowledge, I curl my fingers tighter through his and let him lead me out of the park.

  Chapter 11

  Trell

  Things had pretty much calmed down at Jake and Arla’s when I walked back in. Everyone buzzed around with questions that they tried to make tactful, but I shrugged them off and promised them that they could blow up my phone soon enough and that I’d actually answer. I know that out of all of us, I’m the one everyone thinks is weird. I don’t tell people where I live. They barely know where I work, or at least, they think they know where I work. They do know my parents and my brother, and I’ve been a part of them forever. They know that even if I’m weird, I’m real. I have their backs. Always. They give me a pass that I’m pretty sure only I could get away with.

  Taye was hovering around with Bryn, probably trying to keep him talked down. He’d cleaned all the traces of cake off his face and was back to the normal, grouchy, broody Bryn who showed up at the place. Taye was fine with taking Cozzie’s car home. She actually looked really excited at the prospect and winked at me when I handed her the keys.

  Afterwards, I somehow managed to actually navigate my car for ice cream, which was basically the achievement of the century, given how my body was reacting, falling into complete chaos, at having Cozzie in my car, only a few short feet away.

  We stuffed our faces with ice cream after an insanely long wait and then I drove us back to my place. Again. The place I’ve kept hidden and guarded and private.

  I knew that I’d bring Cozzie back here, so all my paintings are still tucked away. The bald spaces are still there on the walls.

  When I push open the door, I expect to have to make really awkward small talk, given that it’s only eight and neither of us have any liquid courage, but I’m wrong.

  Cozzie wraps her arms around my neck the second we walk into the house. She slams her lush body flush against mine and I barley have time to get the door shut before she yanks my head down and attacks my mouth.

  I still can’t believe this is even happening. Everything about the past few months feels like a really strange dream. I may have even pinched myself a few times a week to make sure that I’m real. That this is my new reality.

  Even if it isn’t, fuck it. I’m not going to turn this opportunity down. I’d take making out with Cozzie in my dreams, even if I’ll wake up tortured over not being with her at all.

  I kiss her deep, so deep that I’m lost. Somehow, we stumble across the room over to the shitty, sagging couch that I haven’t bothered to replace. Somehow, I end up on top of her, her curvy body underneath me, her hands tangled in my hair, my knee between her thighs, the weight of my chest pressing her down into the plush leather. Our mouths are still attached, still attacking each other. I’m touching her. I’m freaking touching her. We are really doing this. Those thoughts scare the hell out of me. This isn’t a fantasy. This is real. She’s really here. Writhing underneath me as our lips crush and suck and our tongues battle.

  Cozzie cups my face between her warm palms. Her fingers bite into my cheeks and jaw as I break the kiss. She arches underneath me, chasing my touch with her entire body. Her denim clad hips curl into mine. I rub back, creating friction even though it feels like I’m going to explode in my freaking pants.

  I plunder her neck, sucking at her skin sharply, licking and biting at the juncture of her neck and chin, moving over to suckle her earlobe between my teeth. She gasps and moans and her hips grind and gyrate into mine. All that motion is pretty much making my brain a pile of obsolete mush. I keep going, the only thought playing through my mind something along the lines of what a lucky bastard I am. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m also trying to force myself to slow the fuck down, because at this rate, I’m going to go off in the next twenty seconds. Which would actually be kind of hot. I guess.

  I drop my head and claim Cozzie’s lips again as I thrust a hand underneath her shirt and sweater. She’s scalding under there. I trace a pattern up her flat belly, up to the curl of her breast. I swear I nearly die right there. She whimpers and claws at my t-shirt clad shoulders and that’s the only thing that keeps me from floating away right then and there. This is real. This is fucking real. I seriously have my hand curled over her breast.

  I shove her bra up and find her nipple, already a hard little bead, and pinch it. Cozzie gasps. I love the way her hips slam into mine. I love the way it fucking hurts, since her pelvic bone hits my dick, which is probably fucking purple. Hell, any attention is good attention and I’m not going to complain about the dry humping or a little bit of pain. Just to make my point, I grind my erection back against her stomach, letting her feel the entire hard length of me.

  “Trell,” Cozzie pants.

  I thrust my tongue into her mouth and stroke hers.

  “Yeah?” I pant between hot kisses.

  “Our clothes a
re still on. I don’t want our clothes to still be on.”

  I can fix that. Fuck, I can fix that. I break away long enough to fumble with her jeans. They’re tight, but the denim has some stretch and the button is obviously team Trell, because it gives easily. I yank them down right along with her panties, not stopping to admire them or see if they’re lace or cotton.

  I back up and Cozzie lifts her hips, letting me tear her jeans off. She’s completely exposed to me, bald and glistening and too turned on to be shy or embarrassed about her need. She spreads her legs slowly, letting me feast my eyes on her. Her long, dark, shapely legs. The curl of her hips and the bit of her flat belly sticking out beneath where her sweater is rucked up. I flick my eyes to her face and nearly die when they land on her swollen lips.

  She lets her legs drop open further and I take the hint. My brain might not be functioning properly, but I’m not going to deny her. I part her legs, thrusting one into the side of the couch and tucking the other over my shoulders.

  I trail my hand, so much rougher than her tender skin, along the inside of her thigh. She’s silk, dark, wondrous silk. She’s fire and I’m the proverbial moth about to die the happiest of deaths.

  I swirl my finger through her satiny folds. She really is fire. Perfect and scalding, dripping wet. I bring my drenched hand to my mouth and let her watch as I insert it between my lips and suck her juices off. She’s heaven, sweet, sweet heaven, and I’m one lucky bastard.

  She whimpers and it throws me over the edge. I have to taste her. The first pass is even more like heaven, so much so that I have to wonder if this might be a dream after all or if I’ve entered the afterlife without knowing it. The next pass is even better.

  Cozzie is so freaking responsive. She digs her hands into my hair, pulling my face into her. She bucks against me, grinds against my face, against my tongue, chin, and lips, taking her pleasure even as I’m giving it. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I sweep my tongue in broad, hard, hot strokes across her folds, her clit, her entrance without committing to anything. Her leg starts to tremble on my shoulder.