Bedhead: A Romance

by Kayt Miller

  “He loves you too.”

  Turning to her, I smile. “I know.” Then I scurry over to the passenger side of the car and open his door. I don’t give him a chance to speak, just wrap my arms around him and kiss him like he’s my only sustenance in weeks.

  He kisses me back until I hear Saffie mumbling something like “Bloody get a room.”

  Laughing, I pull away and look into his golden irises. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you go this time, Cooke.”

  “I know, love.”

  Helping him out of the car, I grab his “sticks” as he calls them and keep my hands on him as well on the walk to the building. It’s a slow process, but we get there eventually. While Cooks sits on a bench, I run down to the office to get Connie, the woman who sold Cooke the place. She grabs the keys and follows me back.

  “Mr. Thompson.” She beams. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “Same,” he says with a nod.

  “I think I’ve got everything squared away for you. I hope it’s to your liking.”

  What is she talking about?

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” Cooke pushes up to standing, and we all head to the elevator. Connie pushes the button for the fourth floor. When the doors open, I start to head right, like before.

  “It’s this way, Miss Maxwell.” Connie points in the other direction.

  “Oh. All right.” I thought he bought the one Connie showed us.

  I follow behind the group, keeping one hand on Cooke. When we reach number 425, Connie opens the door and we all step inside.

  Saffie walks in first, and I hear her gasp. “Bloody brilliant,” she says with a squeal.

  Cooke stops and motions for me to go next. I peek around the doorway and gasp just like Saffron. “Wow.”

  The three of us make our way to the living area while Connie stays by the door. It’s twice the size of the other place we saw. There’s a fireplace, the decor is similar, and the ceiling, kitchen cabinets, and countertops are done in white like the first place, but this one has a larger kitchen to go with the larger living room. Not only that, there’s furniture. Nice furniture. There’s a big comfy-looking sectional in the living room, a coffee table, and a huge television mounted above the gas fireplace.

  I peek into one bathroom and see it’s outfitted with white towels and gray rugs. In the spare bedroom, there’s a queen-size bed with pretty linens in grays and whites. Two dressers and two nightstands that all match the headboard complete the room. There are white blinds on the windows, but they’re up right now, so lots of light is streaming through.

  “Love,” Cooke calls for me from the other room. He’s standing in front of the other bedroom door, waving me over.

  I follow him through the doorway and gasp once again. “This is amazing.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” There’s a king-size bed in this room and the same dressers, nightstands, and headboard. But this one is painted a pale blue color. The linens aren’t plain either. Instead of the gray and white from the other room, the bedding is swirling lines and shapes all in various shades of blue.

  “To match your eyes, love.”

  That’s it. I’ve been holding in my stupid emotions for hours. No, days. Then, when he stepped out of the car, I had to concentrate to keep the tears tucked away. But I can’t do it anymore. Once one tear leaked out, the rest just came like a torrent. “That’s… that’s the sweetest.”

  “Love,” he murmurs. Leaning down, he kisses my lips softly.

  “It’s beautiful, Cooke.”

  “Did you see our bathroom?”

  Our bathroom? Oh my God. This man is going be the death of me.

  “Not yet.” I sniffle, then step into the bathroom. I’m speechless. It’s set up a lot like his home in England with a separate bathtub and a shower the size of my room at home. There are two sinks, and on the wall, blue towels hang from a towel warmer.

  Back in the kitchen, Saffie is making a sandwich.

  “How did you get this place ready from England?” I ask.

  “I did it, Miss Maxwell,” says a proud Connie.

  “It’s perfect. Cozy yet classy.”

  Connie chuckles. “I’m the interior designer as well as the agent for this project, so I’m pleased you see what I intended for these units.”

  “You did a brilliant job, Connie. Thank you.” Cooke is smiling, but he looks tired.

  “Babe, why don’t you go lie down? I can bring your things up for you.”

  “You have two parking spaces beneath the building. I’ve left the codes for you on the counter.” Connie points to a spot next to the fridge. “If you park inside, you can bring everything up in the elevator. There are dollies in the garage as well for larger loads. Let me know if you need anything.”

  With that, Connie leaves, and we’re all quiet for a moment.

  “This place is perfect, Cooke,” Saffie says with a mouth full of bread and cheese.

  Turning to Cooke, I ask, “Are you hungry?”

  “Let’s bring the things up, and then I’ll eat.”

  “You’re not doing a thing. You’re going to go lie down. Saffie and I’ll bring things up. After that, I’ll make you something to eat.”

  “Bossy,” he mumbles.

  “Get used to it. You need to rest.”

  “Aye.”

  I lead him to his—no, our bedroom and help him undress down to his boxers and tee. “Sleep,” I say, kissing his lips as he lies down on the bed. “I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

  “Aye, love.” And then he’s out, snoring softly.

  “Poor baby,” I say softly as I move hair out of his eyes. I touch his face gently and gaze down at him. “So glad you’re here.”

  “You know,” Saffie says form the door, “he wants to stay here.”

  I smile. I know he wants to be here. “I know. Until—”

  “No. He wants to stay here. With you. Forever.”

  I step out of the room and shut the door behind me. Saffie’s got my interest piqued. “He does?”

  “He does. I’ve never seen him like this before. Neither has Mum. You should know he’s had loads of girlfriends.”

  “He has?” Who am I kidding? Look at him. Of course he has.

  “He never talked about any of those birds. He tolerated them. But he won’t shut up about you. How you met. That it was fate or some shite.” She chuckles. “I love him, but he’s full of it.”

  My face must show what I’m thinking, because Saffie says, “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. He couldn’t have met a better girl, Quinn. I adore you. And when Mum comes to visit next month, she’ll feel the same way.”

  His mom’s coming?

  “All I mean is he’s never been like this before, so I know he means what he says. He doesn’t want to leave you again.”

  “I don’t want that either. But what about the team?”

  “Did you see the injury? The video?”

  “No.” And I don’t want to. “I can’t.”

  “He’s done. He can’t come back from that. He’ll be in that brace for seven or eight months. Then the real rehab will start.”

  “Eight months? I knew it was months, just not quite so many.”

  “He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  “I get that,” I say as I look out the window to check the view.

  “No worries. He was always right savvy with his money. You won’t be broke.”

  “Huh?” My head jerks up. “You think I care if he’s got money?” Hell, I still have the Visa gift card he gave me months ago. “Cooke and I, well, it’s never about money.”

  “Bloody hell. I keep putting my foot in it. All I meant was he won’t have to worry about money if he can’t play anymore. He can do something else since he was so smart with it.”

  “Oh. I see.” I nod. “That’s good. I’m sure the ISU rugby guys would love to have him work with them.”

  “Aye,” she says, smiling nervously.
“Quinn.” She steps closer, placing her palm on my shoulder. “He loves you. I can see why. You’re a nice girl. One who loves my brother for himself, not for his millions.”

  “Millions?” I squeak. “What the fuck?” He’s got millions? My body flushes with heat. I had no idea.

  Saffron throws her head back and laughs. “Yeah, you’re perfect.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!” everyone shouts at the stroke of midnight.

  I lean down and kiss Cooke. It’s our first New Year’s Eve together, and it’s been perfect. “Happy New Year,” I whisper in his ear.

  “Same to you, love.” He kisses me again, and then we both turn to look at our friends.

  We’re having a New Year’s Eve party at Cooke’s new place and invited the entire gang, including Vic and Connie. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Not everyone could make it, though. Luke is working. Luckily, he hired another bartender to take over some shifts since I’m “flaky and unreliable.” His words. No worries, I’m not fired. I plan to work a lot next semester, even though Cooke wants me to quit. I can’t do that. Not yet.

  The sound of holiday music is floating through the air thanks to the wireless stereo system I bought for Cooke as a housewarming gift. Sure, I used the Visa card he gave me. At least the money went to something for him. I’m okay with that.

  I smile down at Cooke, then back to the party. The Beedle babes are here with their boyfriends. Bull and Robbi seem to be going strong. I think he’s completely smitten with her, and Robbi seems to be all smiles lately. Patsy and Kat, along with Susanna and Lindsay, are all here with their men as well.

  I look around the room in search of Saffie. When I see her, I snicker. “Yo, babe,” I whisper down to Cooke. “Your sister and Dan.”

  “I see them,” he grumbles. “I have a feeling she’s never going to leave now.”

  “They just met.” I roll my eyes. Then I remember. “I guess I fell for you right away.”

  “You guess?” He scowls. “I knew.”

  Kissing him softly, I decide it’s a good time for me to find something to do. Back in the kitchen, I replenish the platters of appetizers for the group while he remains camped out on the sofa with his leg propped up on an ottoman, while also being protected by two chairs on either side. Drunk people around external braces is scary stuff.

  When I feel a hand on my ass, I jump. “Cooke,” I hiss, then laugh. “You shouldn’t be up walking around with all this”—I wave at the crowd—“going on.”

  He takes my hand in his and tugs on it. “Come into the bedroom with me for a second.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods, but I follow him anyway. Once inside, Cooke shuts and then locks the door. “Is anyone in here?” he says loudly. When no one answers, he pushes me up against the door, raises my arms above my head, and kisses me. “I fucking adore you.”

  I’m gasping for breath. We haven’t don’t anything since he got here. Saffron is always underfoot, as they say. “Me too.”

  “I need you,” he says, licking my neck right below my ear. When he takes my earlobe in his mouth and sucks, I nearly jump out of my skin. “God, I want to fuck you.”

  “Me too.” I do. I want to do it. “But your brace.”

  “I read an article.”

  I start to giggle, though it could be because his hands tickle as they make their way up into my shirt. “About having sex with a brace?”

  “Yep. There’s even a couple YouTube videos. Who knew?” he says, taking my mouth again in a deep, searing kiss as he tugs the edges of my bra down with each hand until my baps are free.

  “I’ve missed these,” he says, sliding his fingers over my already hard tips.

  “I’ve missed your hands.”

  He tweaks each nipple and I squeak.

  He lifts my shirt, then slides his head between my stomach and the fabric until his lips land on my right nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

  “Oh God.” I moan. “Don’t st-stop. Please?” He has me practically begging him and he’s barely started.

  I attempt to reach down between us so I can feel him, but he moves my hand away from his dick. “If you touch me, there’s no stopping me. I want you, but not with a house full of people.”

  “So, after they leave?”

  His mouth is still very busy with my chest. “The second they leave.” He licks. I moan. “I’m locking us away in here, stripping you naked. We’ve waited long enough, love.”

  “What about Saffie?”

  “Saffie can sod off. She has headphones.”

  I giggle at his angry tone. I know he doesn’t mean it. He adores his little sister. “You’d better stop, Cooke. I can’t take much more.”

  With one more swipe, he pulls his head out of my shirt. “As soon as they leave, meet me in here.”

  “But the mess.”

  “Will wait.”

  “Yes.” I kiss him softly. “It will.”

  Now, how do I get rid of my friends?

  Just kidding.

  A little.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Cooke

  I’ve been waiting for months for my turn to speak. You have no idea what it’s been like for me. Well, now is my chance to say it’s been hell. I wasn’t joking when I told Quinn it was love at first sight for me. I guess it wasn’t for her. I know my girl, though. She’s too afraid to admit it, fearing the truth will somehow impact my feelings. On the contrary, it would make me feel more secure.

  Sure, I’m confident about many things, even women, but not when it comes to the beguiling Quinn Maxwell. The night of our first chat, I couldn’t sleep afterward. I was tempted to call again just so I could see those piercing blue eyes and the sleepy hair and hear her voice, like an angel’s, soft and sweet.

  When I finally did work up the nerve to call her, she shocked the bloody hell out of me with her sense of humor. She’s hilarious. In my experience, women aren’t that funny. Now, before you tell me I’m being sexist, let me explain, or maybe clarify. The women who hang out with professional rugby arseholes aren’t funny. There. Better? I’m sure I’m overgeneralizing. Saffie’s funny, after all, but she’s my sister.

  Anyway, back to that night I first saw her. Ian knew I was in trouble that day. For one, he couldn’t believe I’d called her back. And at the gym, no less. That was intentional. I wanted her to see the team space, the logo. I wanted her to know I was somebody—a professional athlete. It worked too, except the girl knew nothing about rugby. My efforts to show her I was wealthy, famous, and sought after fell on deaf ears. And that, my friends, was beyond appealing.

  The night she called, distraught, because of her scooter, her basement, and that woman, I was so angry, I wanted to break something. I’d still like to ring Kara’s neck. But Quinn was so far away, it seemed impossible to help. But I went against team rules and flew to the States to do what I could to help her. I had hell to pay when I returned. Benched at first, but they needed me badly, so it was short-lived. My mates were mad as hell too, but when I explained to Ian and the lads what had happened, that I went to help my girl, tensions eased a bit.

  From the moment I landed back in the UK, I wanted nothing more than to turn around and fly back, to stay with Quinn. It’s why I bought the flat here. I wanted a place to stay when I visited. A place Quinn could live in if she needed one—which she did. That fecking landlord. Add him to the list of people I’d like to see in a scrum. But leave it to my girl to figure herself out without my help.

  That’s another thing I love about Quinn. She’s independent and capable of handling all sorts of issues without any help from the likes of me, but she’s also the most caring person I’ve ever met. She’d help a stranger if they needed it. There isn’t a mean bone in her gorgeous body.

  Ah, her body. Damn. Quinn’s body is made for sin. She’s lush and soft and curvy in all the right places. I’ve kissed and touched almost all of her. Feeling
her wrapped around me… well, nothing feels better. There’s still more we need to do. Tonight. Tonight is the night I make her mine. I only hope Quinn’s friends—our friends—leave soon. Thinking about sinking into her is making me irrational.

  “Yo, Cooke,” says a drunk Bull.

  “Mmhmm,” I say, trying to keep my dick in check.

  Slapping me on the back, he belches. Lovely. “We’re taking off, man.”

  I look behind him and see one of Quinn’s former flatmates and Dan. I scan the room and find Saffie sitting alone in a chair, looking a bit forlorn. I’m tempted to ask Dan to take her with him, but that’d be wrong. Right? I shake my head. Of course it’s wrong.

  “You’re not driving.” It’s not a question.

  “Nah, man. Freshman on the team is the designated driver tonight. He’s on his way.”

  “Good night, then.”

  I wave them off and count the number remaining. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine. With Saffie, there are ten, because I know Vic left right after midnight, as did Connie. All that’s left are her current flatmate, Tayler, and the former ones with their men.

  Standing from my chair, I make my way into the kitchen. Quinn’s asking her friends if they want to take some of the leftovers. “There’s more in the fridge, so you guys can take this.” She points to the plate of vegetables and one with meats and cheeses.

  “Sure, we’ll take it,” says Patsy.

  I see what Quinn’s doing. She’s putting the idea in their heads that it’s time to go. Bloody brilliant if you ask me.

  I reach into a drawer and pull out some plastic bags. “Here, let’s fill these up.”

  God, I want to fill Quinn up.

  My dick is unrelenting. I move behind her and get as close as I can to hide my hard-on while also letting her know I’m in dire straits.

  She pushes that round bottom of hers up against me and it’s on. I pinch her arse, and she laughs. “Naughty lass,” I whisper in her ear.

  Another eternity passes, but we finally get everyone but Saffie out of the house. I send Quinn off to bed, but before I go, I warn Saffie to wear some headphones.