“Don’t look at me like I’m a heroine from one of your novels,” she says while rubbing her tired-looking eyes. She’s definitely hungover, much more than I am, and it’s showing. It wouldn’t be really nice of me to pick on her right now, but she looks just so darn adorable!
“But you look so cute in that outfit! Does Travis know you wear this to sleep?”
She arches an eyebrow, as if asking me why wouldn’t Travis know about what she wears to bed, and the tips of my ears feel hot.
Oh God.
Is she insinuating what I think she’s insinuating? Gross!
Cole coughs awkwardly. “Okay then, ladies, now that we’ve got that out of the way, how about some breakfast?” He gives us a pageant-worthy smile and offers us two plates. Beth and I reconcile in our attempts to rush to the nearest available toilet.
***
Afterward, when I’m finally able to keep food down, and Alex and Megan stumble into the kitchen, we all make our plans for the day. Everyone’s pretty okay with a plan to lie low for the morning and evening recovering from last night. Honestly, it’s a bit disappointing since I’m feeling okay and want to go out and enjoy the fact that I’m not home anymore. It’s not like I haven’t been to New York before, all of us have and done the touristy things, but there’s definitely more fun doing all those things again with your best friends and not your uppity grandparents.
I lean against the dining table watching everyone finish their breakfast and retreat back into their rooms as if the sunlight from the open windows literally burns them. Beth is already on the phone with Travis, and I shudder thinking about the things they talk about. Megan looks at me apologetically, but, given the fact that she’s been sick the entire night and that Alex has been up taking care of her, I let her go. The three of us will still get to enjoy our best-friend road trip; today’s just a small bump in the road.
Cole snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me back into his chest. Any hesitation he had about touching me is gone. He’s been finding subtle ways to touch me all morning. Brushing past me, leaning against me and whispering in my ear, it’s been driving me crazy. And now we’re alone, completely alone all over again. Someone needs to bring out the heavy-duty rope here so that I can keep my hands to myself. There are some things I can conclude certainly about myself, and being a nymphomaniac was never in the plans. That’s what Cole Stone can do to you, though.
“How about you and I get out of here?”
I perk up immediately and twist my neck to look at him, smiling as widely as possible. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, so far all I have planned is ice cream and then maybe a walk; I just want to be alone with you.”
“I’d love that, especially the ice cream.”
He laughs, turning me around and enveloping me in his arms. “Is it stupid that I’m jealous of two really old guys called Ben and Jerry?”
I shrug playfully. “If you make me my favorite ice cream, I’d place you right up there with them on my list of people I worship.”
He grins. “Oh, I think you’ll worship me for a whole other set of reasons when I’m done with you.”
There goes my mind into the gutter. Does he do that on purpose, or does he seriously not know what he’s insinuating right now? I know I’m giving away my dirty thoughts by the look of amusement on his face and, well, by the fact that my cheeks must now be like cherry tomatoes.
He leans in closer and whispers huskily, “Yeah. Wait till you get to experience the most decadent and sinful pleasure known to man. You’ll be addicted once you get a taste, Tessie.”
My heart is racing wildly; my insides are on fire. I’m almost ready to jump out of my skin; that’s how tingly and nervous I am. His voice is like pure honey, smooth and silky, but there’s an edge of roughness that does the trick. Man, he’s good.
“I’ve been told before, but you’ll be the best judge there is, so do you want to, Tessie? Do you…do you want me to make you…” He pauses.
“Make me what?” I squeak, on edge with my mind buzzing and thoughts flying in every direction, or, well, one particular direction.
He straightens up and with a straight face that has me unnerved says, “Would you like me to make you my famous triple-Nutella-layered fudge brownies?”
Suffice it to say I don’t talk to him for an hour after that.
***
Even though I’m still super irritated with Cole for the stunt he pulled, that’s not enough to stop me from getting ready for our pseudo date. Since Beth decided to go back to the room she slept in, I’m left with Cole as my roommate, and he watches me as I bang closet doors and throw stuff around looking for an outfit.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks from where he’s sprawled on the bed, leaning against the headboard, his arms crossed behind his head.
“Asking that question the fifth time won’t change my answer, you know.” How come I have no cute shoes? How is it that I only packed my most mangy-looking sneakers that are almost in tatters? Wonderful, now I’ll be the girl with the ugly, homeless-person shoes. And what’s with all the shirts I have? Why didn’t I raid the closet filled with the clothes my mother had bought me? Oh, right, it’s because my mother bought me the clothes. So, as I dig through one unflattering top after another, I don’t feel him approaching until he’s crouching down next to my open suitcase, which, by the way, looks like a crime scene.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You know that I wasn’t making fun of you, right?”
I throw away the tank top that I’m currently mangling and avoid looking at him. Of course I’m being a bitch, and he doesn’t deserve that kind of behavior, but sometimes a lot of feelings get bottled up and then burst open at the worst of times.
“I know, I’m sorry, you were kidding, and I overreacted, as usual. It’s all I seem to be doing with you, and I know it must get annoying, but it’s just self-preservation, Cole.”
I sit down cross-legged on the floor and play with the hem of my shirt. Cole sits back too, pulling his knees up and watching me with concern and a bit of confusion.
Exhaling, I prepare myself to say something that might hurt him, but it’s something that needs to be said. If I keep these feelings to myself, it’ll spread like poison and possibly ruin our relationship—again. So now I need to be honest.
“Sometimes I get scared that maybe what I feel for you is more than what you feel for me.” He opens his mouth to argue but I cut him off. “I know that’s stupid, okay, and that I’m wrong. You’ve never made me feel like we’re on an uneven playing field. You’ve…you’ve liked me for longer, so what I feel doesn’t even make sense, right? But after everything, I’m still a bit scared to come off as being more in love with you, because that makes me feel weak, and it takes me back to how badly I broke. That’s why when you joke around and I fall for them, it scares me. That’s not your fault, it’s mine, and it’s something I have to work on. I can’t let what happened keep messing us up, you know?”
Cole watches me with an intense gaze when I finally look at him. There’s pain in those eyes and guilt, emotions I never wanted to see again but, way to go, Tessa, they’re back. He doesn’t deserve what I put him through, but he’s still there every single day, looking for more ways I can hurt him.
“Do you remember what I said to you last night? I told you that my worst fear was losing you. That’s what’s on my mind all the fucking time. Whenever I look at you, I realize how easily I can lose you, especially now. So, when I’m joking around, it’s partly because I’m trying to chase away that voice that tells me that sooner or later I’ll do something that’ll make you leave me for good. But mostly because teasing you is what reminds me the most of how we started, literally when we were kids. It was always my MO to get your attention, to see that spark in your eyes. I figured that if it worked when we were five, it would work now, too.”
His mention of our childhood instantly makes me smile. God, he tormented me so much, and I hated h
im from the core of my being. Whenever I saw him, I’d immediately fear the worst for the rest of the day; he was like the kid from The Omen. Now he’s like that really cute guy from Clueless whom I dreamed about for ages.
Except he’s not my former stepbrother; that would be weird.
Moving on…
I cross on over to him and cup his face in my hands, kissing him soundly then leaning back. “Have I told you before that I’m madly in love with you. Cole Stone?”
He looks relieved and a bit surprised but, given the way he pounces on me, tackling me to the ground, I can tell that mostly he’s happy.
“I’m madly in love with you, too, Tessa O’Connell.”
And then he kisses me forever, or so I wish.
***
When I finally find an outfit—a difficult feat, given how Cole’s hell-bent on distracting me—Cole and I leave our friends from The Walking Dead at home and head on over to a nearby park that’s chock-full of people enjoying their summer. After getting and eating my promised ice cream, we find a secluded spot beneath a massive old tree and settle down. Well, I sit and Cole lies down with his head in my lap. Sighing contentedly, I lean against the tree and run my fingers through his hair. His moan of appreciation tells me that he approves.
This is perfect.
We’re silent for a while, enjoying some quiet after the heavy-handed conversation we had at the apartment. We’re finally in a place where there are no questions lingering in the space between us. So, if any more problems were to come our way, we could face them together. Just as I’m getting lost in my thoughts, I hear Cole say something that I don’t catch.
“Did you say something?”
He sighs. “I wish I hadn’t.”
This sounds ominous and I’m panicking already. What now? Oh, please, don’t let it be the E-word; I can’t take the E-word without flying off the handle.
“Your mom called me today.”
Okay, that’s okay. It takes a minute for me to process what he just said, but when it does sink in, I’m surprisingly okay with it. She’s been calling me, too, but I don’t answer or listen to the voice mails she insists on leaving every time. It’s only natural that she calls Cole; cheap shot, Mom.
“Oh.” I manage to say after a few tense moments, “What did she want?”
“Apparently, you don’t answer her calls.”
I mutter a noncommittal whatever as he watches my face. “She really wants to talk to you, Tessa.”
“I’ll talk to her when I’m ready. If I do it now, it’ll only end up making things worse; I’m not exactly her biggest fan at the moment.”
“That’s what I told her, but she was sort of desperate. Tessa, she’s in the city and she wants to have dinner with us tonight.”
“No.” I don’t need to think about it; there’s not even another option. I did have my suspicious about my mom being here, and I’d prepared myself for this. There is no way I’m going back to pretending everything’s normal, not when she walked out on her family without a second thought. She’s always been selfish, but her actions of late have taken it to a new level. Me being civil and fake is not on the cards, Mother.
“Look, it’s just dinner. If we show up and you let her have her say, that’ll be the end of it. At least it’ll be better than constantly avoiding her. I know what it feels like when you cut someone off, Tessie.”
Ouch, he’s making a valid point and bringing up bad memories, all in one go.
“It’s not the same…she…she…”
Cole lifts his head from my lap and scoots over next to me, taking my hands in his. “You feel like you hate her, like you can’t ever forgive her, right?”
I know what he’s thinking about right now. “It’s not the same. We were different; that was you, and this is about my mom.”
“We’re both people who hurt you and failed you. Do this for me, Tessie; just try talking to her, that’s all I ask.”
“What exactly did she say to you to get you on her side?” I ask since I’m genuinely curious. Usually he lets me and my mommy issues be. He’s never been this involved because I know I’ve made it a moot point and he doesn’t want to fight, but this is the first time he’s being so relentless about it.
He grins and brings his face closer to mine. “She may or may not have said that I was the only person her daughter trusts with her life and would always listen to.”
“And you believed her?” I scoff, but inwardly, I hate the fact that Mom still knows me.
He looks nervous for a moment. “Maybe things have changed a bit and you don’t trust me like you used to—”
I slap my hand over his mouth. “I do trust you, Cole.”
His lips curve into a smile beneath my fingers and he kisses my palm. Removing my hand, I lean against his chest and ask, “Where do we have to be and at what time?”
I’m such a sucker for him.
But this is not about my mother; this is about me showing Cole that what my mom said is right and that he doesn’t need to doubt us ever again.
“Love you, Tessie.” He kisses the top of my head, and it makes everything worthwhile.
Chapter Eight: The Boy Band Asshat Needs to Know You’re Mine
I realize my mistake the moment I step into the fancy restaurant my mother’s selected. The impersonal, stuffy setting clearly shows that she’s not up for a heart-to-heart. Well, good, I’m not ready for that, either. Clutching Cole’s hand, I look around for a familiar face, but it’s my boyfriend who points me in the right direction.
“That’s her, right?”
I swivel in the direction Cole points, and the first thing I notice about the woman sitting at the table is that she looks happy. Maybe that’s not something to begrudge, but I do. She’s smiling warmly at the man seated next to her and is constantly touching him in some way, stroking his arm, holding on to his hand, the works. There’s an easy affection that’s long been missing from my parents’ marriage. Maybe if she’d kept off the antidepressants and hadn’t been lost in a constant haze of prescription drugs, we’d have a better relationship.
Her appearance has drastically changed; she’s no longer going for the whole The Stepford Wives look. For one, her hair’s blonder, with warm highlights that bring out her eyes. I can see she’s lost weight, but that’s only given her face more definition; her body from the waist up looks more toned, and, as much as it hurts, she’s glowing. Her eyes gleam with adoration as the good-looking man in a crisp navy suit with the salt-and-pepper hair caresses her cheek. He’s the one who notice me watching them and says something to my mother, who turns to look at me.
Our eyes meet from across the busy dinner service; she smiles at me, and I try to return it, I really do, but it’s not that easy.
“Come on; you can do this,” Cole assures me, leading me to the table that’s set for five people. The fact that she’s brought her latest fling to our so-called reunion is evidence enough that this is not going to be the scene for a mother-daughter bonding session. Still since I’m here, I might as well put a smile on my face, and get done with this so that Cole and I can go ahead with our plans. Cole places a hand at the small of my back and leads me to the table. Both my mother and her date stand, and I get a good look at her. Susan O’Connell née Ryan always dresses impeccably, come rain or shine, but it’s obvious that she’s changed her style, wearing a fitted navy sheath dress that hugs her curves. If the dress were even an inch tighter, it would look obscene, yet it doesn’t. She looks classy and elegant, but most of all hot.
I’m glad for the impromptu shopping trip I took in the afternoon, spending way too much money on my own red wrap dress made of a fitted jersey material. I got the Megan-and-Beth stamp of approval and Cole had been rendered speechless for a minute or ten, so I must look good. Appearance has always mattered a lot to my mother. Back in the day, when I was heavier, she would breathe down my neck about losing weight. I’d get daily suggestions on diets, and some days she would purposely buy me clothes ab
out four sizes smaller just so she could point out that I needed to stop shopping in the men’s section for some decent jeans. It’s not surprising that we didn’t get along.
Now she watches me carefully, assessing every fine detail, and there’s still the little girl inside of me that wants her approval. The gleam in her eyes tells me that I’ve finally done something right in my life. Approaching them, we exchange pleasantries, and I stiffen a little when Mom hugs me. She holds on to me for a while and I breathe in her familiar scent. “You look wonderful, honey. That color looks incredible on you.”
No hey, Tessa, how’ve you been, no hey, congratulations for getting into college. I guess that’s what was expected.
“You look great too, Mom.”
She touches her hair consciously. “It’s not too much?” She grasps my hands in hers as we sit down. “I just wanted a change, you know?”
“It looks good.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Tessa; your mother talks about you all the time.”
My mom’s date is a Wall Street heavyweight called Patrick McQueen; the man oozes wealth and charm. Now, as he sets his eyes on me, I notice that he looks nothing like my father. For someone in his late forties, he looks impossibly fit and well groomed. He peers at me and I squirm in my own seat, unconsciously smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in my dress.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, though I wish I’d heard more about you. This is kind of a surprise.” I try to sound as polite as possible, but there’s not really a better way to phrase that your mother ambushed you into meeting her man of the moment. But Mr. McQueen doesn’t skip a beat; he laughs and turns to Cole, who has not let go of my hand till now. I think he’s well aware that I might have one of my outbursts if he lets go of me. I love him even more for understanding that I have a psychotic side. He and Mr. McQueen talk about sports for a bit while my mother and I sit in strained silence after we all place our orders. That is until her date addresses the elephant in the room and all hell breaks loose.
The Bad Boy’s Heart Page 9
