Cole (The Ride Series)

by O'Brien, Megan

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity I was all set up in Connie’s guest room. We’d stopped briefly at the apartment and Kat had run in to get some of my stuff. I sat on the bed and stared into space. Kat had offered to stay with me but I waved her off. I needed time alone and she had a life to live. Connie hadn’t asked questions but had simply hugged me and showed me to my room. I was utterly grateful that she didn’t hover. Finally, I curled up in a ball on top of the bedspread fully clothed and fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I woke up it was pitch black out and the clock told me it was just after midnight. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, but I ignored it. I clicked on the light and forced myself to sit up. I sat there a while trying to get my head sorted when a soft knock sounded at the door.

  “Hey,” Connie said quietly, peaking her head in. “I saw your light on, how are you?”

  I gave her a weak smile. “Been better.”

  “You should eat something,” she said softly.

  “Later,” I shook my head. What I really needed were my painkillers but if I took them on an empty stomach I knew I’d get sick.

  “Listen, I know it isn’t my place but whatever happened – Cole looks about as good as you do,” she said quietly. “He’s already come by several times to try to see you. I told him to give it another day,” she said quietly.

  “Cole can go to hell,” I shot out, surprised by my anger, but relieved to feel it. I was tired of being so desperately sad.

  She looked at me carefully before nodding simply.

  “I think I’ll just watch some TV for a little bit if that’s okay,” I said while standing up to stretch my stiff limbs.

  “Whatever you need, babe,” she said. “I just got home from work and was planning to head to Wes’s. Will you be okay by yourself?” she asked worriedly.

  “Totally,” I said as I nodded. In fact, it sounded great to have the place to myself. “I really appreciate you putting me up.”

  “Don’t mention it, I’m barely ever here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” she said with a warm smile.

  I got changed into my pajamas and grabbed a cozy throw blanket. I curled up on the couch and flipped on the TV as Connie gathered her stuff and headed out.

  My phone chirped with the tenth text of the day from Cole, and I reached over and turned the thing off without even looking at what his message said. He couldn’t act that way with me and then just bombard me until I gave in. I needed space and time to collect myself. I’d been through a hell of a lot the last few days and I needed to feel safe and secure. At the moment, that meant being alone.

  I spent the next day pretty much well, wallowing. The two times I tried to leave the apartment to get some air, I was soon followed by some bad ass biker. I was in no mood to have a chaperone, so each time I just turned back around and huffed my way back into the house. What I really wanted was to be able to run off the confusion and hurt that I was feeling but my injuries prevented that option. Cole was giving me my space. He’d only texted once that day and because I missed him I couldn’t help but look at it. It was simple and to the point.

  “Miss you babe.”

  I missed him, too. It hadn’t even been two full days, but I did. He’d become the center of my universe in such a short time. My heart belonged to him and I knew that it always would. But he’d hurt me during a time when I was most fragile and I was far from ready to answer any of his calls.

  Kat stopped by to inform me that Cole felt like utter shit. He told her so himself when he asked her how I was. She was still pissed at him, but even she had given into his persuasive tendencies and seemed to be gently suggesting that I talk to him. I’d given her an outright “no,” which had stopped her from pressing me.

  Dinnertime came and went, but I wasn’t hungry. I’d been mindlessly watching TV for a while when I heard the low rumble of a motorcycle that started in the distance but kept coming closer. My heart started thudding in my throat at the unmistakable sound of it stopping out front. A knock sounded at the door moments later.

  “Shit,” I whispered to myself. I sunk deeper into the couch hoping that he’d just go away.

  “Not going away till you open the door, babe,” I heard his deep voice boom through the door.

  “Shit,” I clipped, hauling off the couch and stalking to the front door. I took a deep breath trying to calm my raging emotions and opened the door.

  I hated that he was easily the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I hated that even though I was beyond pissed at him, my body still responded to him. I couldn’t help myself from taking him in, my eyes roaming over his face. He did look tired, his eyes were red and he clearly hadn’t shaved in a while. Not that he did that regularly anyway. I noticed him doing the same thing, taking in my swollen, red eyes, my hair thrown up in a sloppy bun. If he didn’t want to look at me before there certainly wasn’t anything good to look at now.

  “Gonna let me in?” he asked quietly.

  “Fuck no,” I replied without hesitation.

  He sighed and looked off to the side, biting his lip as though he was choosing his words carefully.

  “What I said, it came out wrong,” he started.

  “How the hell does ‘I can’t look at you’ come out wrong?” I demanded, thankful that my anger hadn’t yet deserted me for despair.

  “My thoughts were all fucked up, I was drinking and having a really fucking hard time with everything that happened to you.” He blew out a breath. “In that moment, looking at you just reminded me how I didn’t protect you--knowing what he did to you and that he was able to get at you again,” he admitted. “Looking at you reminded me that I failed you,” he said, his voice raw. “It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me,” he said quietly.

  “Okay,” I nodded.

  “Okay?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, I understand. My shit is heavy and it’s more than most people could handle. I just thought maybe you could,” I said with feigning indifference. “But, I get it. No hard feelings.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, no hard feelings?” he demanded.

  “I mean, no hard feelings. Take care of yourself,” I said, starting to close the door.

  “What the fuck?” he demanded, putting a hand forcefully on the front door preventing me from closing it.

  “We’re done, Cole,” I said as though it were obvious.

  “Come again?” his voice was deceptively soft as he stared down at me.

  “We’re done,” I said again, determined to sound far more confident than I actually felt.

  “The fuck we are,” he growled.

  “Oh no,” I said, my anger flaring. “This is not the time for you to assert your macho bullshit. You do not get to decide this. You already made your decision when you disappeared into a whiskey bottle and told me some really fucking hurtful shit following one of the worst weeks I’ve had in my life!” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “Now it’s my turn and I say we are –done,” I said emphatically.

  I glared at him and he stared back at me. I watched his entire face change from frustration to something close to reverence. I braced for what he was about to say.

  “We aren’t. We’ll never be done,” he returned without hesitation. “I’m yours and you’re mine. I said something I didn’t mean, it came out entirely wrong. And I’m sorry I hurt you… really fucking sorry, baby. But we’ll work it out. There just isn’t another option,” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let me clue you in. The other option is for us to be done!” I shrieked, trying to close the door on him again but he quickly put his boot in the way.

  “We can’t be done. I’m in love with you,” he said quietly.

  Dammit. Those words caused my anger to desert me, and tears immediately filled my eyes. “How can you say that to me?” I whispered hoarsely. “You basically force me to tell you some really unpleasant shit and then hours later you can’t
look at me? That’s not love, Cole,” I said as I shook my head.

  His eyes softened as he looked at my now tear-streaked face.

  “No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you,” he said, undeterred by my comment. “I admit, I let that shit fester. The fact that fucker ever laid a hand on you is eating me up inside. The fact that he grabbed you right from under my fucking nose combined with everything you told me yesterday is really fucking hard for me to swallow, I admit. But I should have just let it out. I was trying to protect you by holding it in, that was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

  I simply stared at him, not allowing my reaction to his words show.

  He blew out a breath. “Baby, there’s no one else in this world I’d rather look at than you. You are the most beautiful thing in my world whether you’re all done up to hit the town or as you are now, tearful and exhausted. In that moment, I just couldn’t see past my own shit,” he said and paused for a minute, assessing me closely. “I can see that you’re not ready to move past this. But I’m not leaving whether I’m in bed with you or on the couch. We can talk more tomorrow,” he said firmly.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, my shoulders slumping. I knew he meant what he said and I just didn’t have it in me to fight him anymore. “The couch it is.” I gestured to it. I felt exhausted by our exchange and just wanted to be alone. I could feel my resolve wavering and that scared me. I walked away from him, leaving the door open behind me and heard him follow me inside. I clicked the TV off, and without a look back I went into Connie’s guest room and shut the door.

  I curled back up into my now familiar ball. I tried so hard to stifle the sobs that inevitably started. With everything that had happened the last few days and how little sleep I’d been getting, I was utterly unable to keep my emotion in check. When I heard the door open I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Scoot over, baby,” his deep voice ordered softly.

  “No,” I choked.

  “Not gonna lay out there and listen to you in here cryin’ and not do anything about it. Scoot,” he said again, bending down to gently shift me over. He crawled in behind me and pulled my body to his so that we were spooning.

  I hated how amazing it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around me-- hated how much I needed him, how much I loved him. I wanted to force him away from me or to remain stiff in his arms, but I simply couldn’t fight it.

  “Love you, baby,” he whispered, his mouth at my ear. “I’m sorry.” He squeezed me tighter.

  I merely hiccupped as my tears subsided and I started to drift off.

  When I woke, I realized that Cole was still beside me and I could tell from his breathing that he was awake. Great. I was facing away from him and I stared at the wall trying to collect myself.

  “How long do you want to pretend you’re sleepin’?” his deep voice rumbled.

  Dammit.

  “A little bit longer,” I answered.

  He chuckled before rolling toward me and he pulled me back toward his body. “Baby, do you honestly think what I was working out that night had anything to do with how I feel about you?” he asked, his deep, sleepy voice causing an involuntary reaction between my legs.

  “No,” I answered honestly. I’d had time to think about this somewhat rationally. I knew he loved me and that he was just lashing out, but that in itself was part of the problem. “But I do think that if you can’t work shit out with me then we don’t have much to work with,” I answered quietly. “Leaving the house like everything’s fine and then not even calling, just disappearing into a whiskey bottle and lashing out at me…I’m not going to put up with that shit, Cole.”

  “I know,” he answered without hesitation.

  “I still need some time,” I whispered.

  “Can’t give you that,” he answered immediately.

  “Why the hell not?” I demanded.

  “Waited thirty years for you. I’m done waiting,” he whispered, his breath warm on my ear, making me shiver. “Baby, I’m going to act like a jackass sometimes. We’re still getting to know each other. And neither one of us has had a healthy relationship to learn from before. But we’re going to learn how to do this together. So no, I can’t give you space. What I can give you is a promise that I will try my damnedest not to hurt you and to handle you with care. I’ll protect you with everything I’ve got, and I’m not going to hold back who I am – not even if it might protect you in the short term. Because in the long term, it’ll break us down,” he said emphatically. “That’s what happened the other night and I learned from it. I need to find a balance between not scaring the shit out of you but also not burying shit so deep that it festers,” he mused. “It’s just not something I’ve ever had to consider before.”

  “What were you holding back?” I asked turning to face him, his blue eyed gaze mere inches from mine.

  He sighed. “I’d already had a fairly loose hold of my temper since this whole bullshit started, but when you told me about what those fuckers did to you and what they tried to do...”he trailed off as his jaw got tight. “I had to bottle that shit so tight, I’ve never felt anything like it,” he explained.

  I nodded, biting my lip and looking away.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, tilting my chin back toward him. “I’m glad you told me. I needed for you to tell me. I don’t ever want you to keep shit like that from me,” he told me vehemently.

  “Even if it means you can’t look at me?” I croaked out, my eyes filling with tears. God, I was so tired of crying.

  “Baby, it was never you I couldn’t face,” he replied. “I fucked up, I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes burning with sincerity.

  I looked at this man who had put everything on the line for me. Who made me feel things I never knew I could--who loved me with a ferocity that I never thought I’d experience. I knew with that kind of intensity that I’d occasionally get burned. But Cole had made me realize that I’d rather be in the fire than out in the cold.

  “Okay,” I replied quietly.

  He kissed me then, slow and sweet. My mouth opened under his and my limbs liquefied as his tongue brushed with mine. I’d missed him more than I wanted to admit.

  He squeezed me tight. “Come home.”

  “Home?” I asked dubiously.

  He rolled his eyes. “My place, babe.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “Are you not comfortable at my place?” he asked with a raised brow.

  My eyes slid to the side as I debated how to answer him. There wasn’t anything wrong with his place, but for the time being it represented the fact that I couldn’t go home. I decided to keep this piece of information to myself, though.

  “No, its fine. I just miss my place, my things,” I murmured.

  “I want you to feel comfortable, bring whatever you want over. Hell, redecorate for all I care,” he said with a chuckle.

  “That’s not necessary,” I scoffed, wincing slightly as I shifted to my back.

  He leaned up over me, his rough hands lightly tracing my face. “Your bruise looks much better,” he murmured, gazing down at me tenderly.

  “Yeah,” I agreed quietly.

  “How about the rest?”

  I didn’t miss the double meaning of his words. “Getting there,” I told him honestly.

  “Your strength completely slays me,” he whispered. My eyes opened in shock. “You completely beguile me, my little warrior,” he said as he kissed me softly.

  Well that was pretty damn amazing. “Let’s get up and get you back to my place. I’ve been ornery as all hell not having you with me,” he admitted.

  Selfishly, I sort of loved that.

  I took a quick shower, redressed my wounds, and put on the clothes that Kat had thrown together for me. I left Connie a note thanking her profusely for putting me up. Cole loaded his truck up with my things and I marveled at his ability to get me back so quickly, yet again. The man had my number that was for sure.

  “When’s the last time you ate?”
he asked as he fired the truck up, looking over at me.

  I bit my lip trying to remember.

  He sighed, exasperated. “The fact that you can’t remember says it all. Breakfast is the first matter of business,” he said, eyeing me with a possessive look. I knew his protective instincts extended to all things concerning me, including my appetite.

  I smiled at my overprotective alpha. “Sounds good,” I agreed readily.

  And over coffee and a ginormous breakfast, I started to feel more like myself.

  Cole watched as I shoveled food into my mouth. “I’ve never seen you eat like this,” he commented, eyeing me with regret. I knew it bothered him that I was obviously so starving.

  I shrugged not wanting to make a big thing of it as his large hand engulfed mine across the table. “That’s the last time you get upset enough to skip so many meals,” he grunted more to himself than to me.

  I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s done babe, I’m fine.” And I was. I knew he was dealing with a feeling of powerlessness that he was unaccustomed to and that he wouldn’t take it out on me again. And, he loved me. I continued to hear him say the words over and over again in my head.

  “What’s on for today?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m hanging with you,” he said simply, without hesitation.

  I smiled, pleased at the thought. “That sounds good. I just have to work at six.”

  He scowled. “You’re scheduled already? And for the late shift?” he asked incredulously. “Don’t you think you should take some more time off?”

  The truth was that I’d love to take more time, but my bank account wouldn’t allow for it. “Can’t,” I answered evasively, hoping he’d leave it at that as he settled our bill and we headed out into the sunshine.

  “Why not?” he demanded lightly, opening the passenger door for me and leaning in the doorframe as I buckled myself in.

  I shrugged casually wanting desperately for him to drop it, and feeling distracted by the muscles flexing in his arms as he peered down at me. I put my hand to his chest, and pulled his T-shirt so that he was forced to lean down to me. I kissed him with nothing of the soft tenderness of the morning. He responded immediately, taking over the kiss as his body pressed into mine.