by Liz Meldon
Breath quickening, Skye wrenched her arm free and wrapped both around his neck. This time, she pulled him impossibly close, and Cole buried his face in the nape of her neck, breathing her in, exploring her with every sense at his disposal. Sight—her beauty. Sound—her little moans. Smell—his gift on her neck. Taste—the sensitive skin on the hollow of her throat. Touch—everything. They rocked together, Skye bucking up to meet each thrust of his hips, her grip unwavering. Their pace hastened together, steadily gaining speed until he felt her clench around him again, his name tumbling from her lips as a sob.
He let go then, spilling himself into her as a blinding pleasure skyrocketed through his body. As he floated back to earth, overwhelmed but content, Skye rolled them onto their sides, where they remained, holding one another, catching their breath, and forgetting the rest of the world.
Skye hadn’t meant to still be crying when Cole emerged from his ensuite bathroom. Frankly, she’d hoped to have her shitstorm of feelings under control by then. It wasn’t fair for him to walk back into the room after what they had just done—twice—and find her crying. But that was the situation, and Skye tried to rectify it as quickly as she could. Unfortunately, he had already seen the tears, and there was no taking them back.
“Skye?” Cole crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed. She noticed and appreciated the distance he put between them, and she offered a watery smile as thanks, still tucked under his covers, naked.
“I’m fine,” she told him, though she knew neither of them believed her. “I just… I keep doing this.”
His eyebrows twitched up before he turned his attention to his tightly clasped hands. Her intention hadn’t been to hurt him, but clearly they had already crossed that hurdle. Sighing, she sat back on the mountain of pillows behind her and took a few deep breaths. After they had made love the first time, Skye just couldn’t drag herself away from him. Try as she might, it was like she was a magnet and the bed was one giant fridge, holding her exactly where she belonged. They’d showered separately after their second tryst in his bed, and Skye still hadn’t found the will to leave just yet.
“When I ended things between us,” she started, knowing now was the time for honesty if there ever was one, “all of us, I didn’t just do it for kicks. It was better for me emotionally to break the contract and get some distance, but as soon as I see you, either of you, I just fall back into the same old routine. And…” Her voice wobbled as she wiped the streaks of tears from her cheeks. “And I have to stop. Nothing’s changed. You still work too much for the relationship I need, and I still can’t make a fucking decision between you and Finn, and that’s not fair—”
“Skye, stop.”
She gulped, lifting her wet, heavy gaze to Cole. His knuckles had gone white, as though he were clenching his hands together so hard that he could break bone. Much to her surprise, however, he unlaced his fingers, crackling his knuckles as he always did, and then crawled up the bed to sit beside her. There was still about a two-foot gap between them, but when his arm fell to his side, Skye reached out and took his hot, slightly clammy hand.
“I’ve…started to pull back a little at work,” he admitted softly. “It’s a process, but I’m doing it.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Admittedly, it was good news, but she had no idea what pulling back “a little” meant to him. It could still mean insane hours, constant travel, and two phones on him at all times.
“Do you know why I work so much?” he asked. When she shook her head, she felt him clicking his nails together, and she held his hand tighter to still the movement. He let out a shaky breath, his brow furrowed. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve had anxiety. Not just fleeting moments of panic, but, in many ways, crippling feelings. It wasn’t until my dad died that my mum was allowed to put me in therapy, get me medicated, all that. As a kid, leaving the house, facing other people, doing things in public… It was debilitating. Panic attacks. Inconsolable crying. Bed wetting. Racing thoughts and insomnia. I had everything. So, all I did was sit on the computer. At least there, I had a shield. It was habit-forming, and it followed me into my professional career.” His voice hitched, but a soft throat clearing seemed to dislodge it. “I’ve gotten it relatively under control, but I’m afraid some social situations cause it to, er, flare. You in particular, our relationship, have always been a trigger. I-I lost myself a little when things started to change between us, and for that I have to apologize. It isn’t an excuse, but…”
He wouldn’t meet her eye, but his other hand had started frantically clicking his nails. So, Skye shuffled closer, reached over him, and stilled that one too, bringing them both into her lap and holding tight.
“Why haven’t you ever told me any of this?” she asked. They had talked about their respective childhoods over the years. Cole knew Skye’s mom had plunged them into debt after her dad left, and her death when Skye was nineteen had forced her to skip college and work until all the debt was paid. In turn, Skye knew Cole’s dad had been a piece of work, and that his mom now lived in a cushy English cottage that Cole had purchased the first year his company was profitable. Mental illness, meanwhile, had never come up once in their conversations. She’d always known him to need control in his profession life, and she had memorized his physical ticks, but she hadn’t ever thought…
“A grown man with anxiety?” He offered a hollow laugh, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wandering around the room—as if searching for an escape. “Not very sexy, is it? When we first met, we agreed to steer the relationship clear of love and sex, but I still wanted you to…to… You know. I wanted to be appealing. This side of me isn’t exactly appealing. Medication helps tremendously, but certain issues still,” he swallowed hard, “make the world feel so loud, sometimes. I didn’t want to burden you with it. You were already doing so much for me.”
She shook her head, frowning. While she could understand the thought pattern, it wasn’t applicable to their relationship. Not in the slightest. “I like you for you. The whole package, your workaholic tendencies and all. This doesn’t change who you are to me. I wish I’d known from the beginning, because I think it makes me understand you better.”
“I’ve been ashamed of it,” he muttered, “for a long time. My dad… Well, he didn’t help.”
“Cole.” She grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at her. “You have been my best friend for years. I know it’s scary to tell someone about this, but I…”
I love you no matter what. The realization hit her like a freight train. Even now, after a month apart, none of her feelings had disappeared. Try as she might to fight them, to contain them, to forget them, they were still there, ardent as ever. Sighing softly, she sat back against the pillows, withdrawing her hands and knotting them together on her lap.
What the hell was she supposed to do now?
They sat in a weighted silence for what felt like hours, side by side, both looking everywhere but at the other person. Finally, Cole faced her.
“When I was growing up, my dad used to beat the holy hell out of my mum,” he admitted, and Skye looked to him sharply, her eyes wide as he nodded. “Having my anxiety and a dad who scared the absolute shit out of me… It wasn’t easy. I still struggle with the fact that I wasn’t the least bit sad when he had his heart attack, because it meant that Mum and I were finally free. It took me a few years to sort myself out, with her help, but after that, I knew I had to take care of her. I hadn’t stepped up before, and I…”
He looked away, his eyes glassy, and Skye reacted without thinking: she pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back, her heart aching.
“Cole, I’m so sorry.”
“One day, my little internet security company and its apps just…exploded,” he told her as they broke apart, their hands still resting on each other’s arms. “Suddenly I had hundreds and hundreds of people who worked for me, and I was hit with this need to make sure they were taken care of. It kept me up at night, worrying abou
t all of them. I guess my long-winded explanation of why I work so much is that…I want to make sure every single one of them is treated fairly, with respect. I do too much, I know, but I’ve always felt like I had to, after everything.”
“You can’t save everyone,” she murmured. “That’s not how the world works, unfortunately.”
“Logically, I know.” A flicker of a smile crossed his lips before vanishing. “It’s made me lose you. And I regret it. I regret pretending that what we had was enough for me, but I can’t… I can’t give you everything you deserve right now. Not by myself, anyway.”
Skye nodded as the fog started to clear from her mind, slowly piecing together the whole picture as she had never been able to before.
“What happened with Finn and I,” Cole started, his voice sounding more certain, “I know it upset you. Confused you. But I believe we have a solution to all this, something that will work for all of us.”
And, just like that, everything was muddled again.
“I hadn’t meant to get into it today without Finn, but—”
“Don’t,” she said softly, placing a hand on his chest. “I need some time to process everything. Not what you’ve told me today, just… Time to process us.”
“Us can include him, you know,” Cole told her, then pressed his lips together and leaned back when she shot him a look. “Fine. Sorry. Yes. Take the time you need to get your thoughts together. Are you at least open to sitting down with the both of us?”
“I…” The thought of being in the same room with them anytime soon made her stomach churn, but her last plan—quitting cold turkey—had only made her miserable. So, she nodded. “Sure. Just give me a couple days to process.”
“Of course. Shall I call you a car?”
“Please,” Skye said after a brief pause, smiling. “Thank you.”
She tugged the covers over her bare chest. While she didn’t want to leave, she knew she should. Skye needed the distance from both Cole and Finn in order to see her situation clearly. She had to digest her experiences from the last two days, how she felt being with both of them again, and genuinely consider their offer to meet up to talk about this supposed solution. She couldn’t do that naked in Cole’s bed.
Even once she was dressed and back in her own apartment, sitting in her own bed under her own covers, with a purring Oz in her lap and a glass of wine on the bedside table, untouched, Skye still wasn’t sure she could do it.
But she had to.
For the sake of the three hearts involved, Skye knew she had to try.
20
S.O.K. (Save Our Kitty)
At precisely 11:07 PM on Friday night, Cole’s personal phone chirped to life from the other side of his enormous kitchen island. He nearly dropped his bamboo spatula into the pan of sizzling ground beef; he had realized fifteen minutes ago that he hadn’t had dinner and was starting to see spots, so thawed ground beef and veg would have to fill the void. Oh, and the leftover cold pasta he’d been munching on ever since he strolled into the kitchen, a bit lightheaded, to see to a proper dinner.
His adrenaline spiked. It was around this time he ought to be getting a rather important phone call from London regarding, well, the future of his professional life.
Tossing the spatula aside, he jogged around the counter and scrambled to pick up his phone—only to frown at the sight of Skye’s name on the screen.
True to his word, Cole had been giving her time to sort through her thoughts and feelings, and had even managed to persuade a mildly impatient Finn to do the same. Despite personally wrapping each and every one of Oz’s birthday presents, he’d had his assistant drop them off at Skye’s apartment a few days ago, along with a note that said he missed her, just to show she was still on his mind even if he had no intention of breaking their agreement.
The fight-or-flight feeling he’d been suffering all night, waiting to for news from Marta, only intensified seeing Skye’s name; Cole tapped the answer button and brought the phone to his ear. After all, he had finally decided to fight. No more running.
“Skye,” he said, hoping to sound breezy and completely fine after their last conversation about his personal struggles. It had been a heavy talk, but somehow Cole had felt lighter in the days that followed. Sharing his lifelong secret with the woman he loved had lifted the weight off his shoulders, and for the first time, the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind hadn’t cruelly insisted he’d given said weight to Skye. It was just…gone. Poof. Vanished. Going forward, he wanted to breathe some of the fun back into their relationship, starting tonight. “This is a nice surprise. What are you—”
“Oz isn’t moving,” Skye sobbed into the phone. “H-he isn’t moving!”
“All right, all right, calm down,” Cole murmured, darting around the island again to turn off the stove. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s happening.”
“I just got home from w-work,” she cried, the sound breaking his heart. “We had an event a-and it ran late. He’s been a bit off for a couple of days, but I’ve been making sure he’s okay. He seemed so much better this morning, but…”
She trailed off into a jumble of incoherent wails as Cole darted around the house, grabbing his keys, wallet, and shoes before stumbling out the front door. He had experienced a call like this once with her already: before they had even gone on their “first date” arranged by the agency, she had called him bawling into the phone about her old family cat who had passed away. It was then he had found the perfect meet-and-greet gift: a fluffy white kitten to help mend her heartache. Skye had named him Oz ten seconds after meeting him. Cole had fallen for her shortly after.
“Cole, I don’t…” She devolved into more nonsensical cry-babbling, but he was already out the door, unlocking his Bugatti from the front stoop.
“We’re going to take him to the emergency vet, sweetheart,” he told her, forcing his voice to remain as calm and steady as possible. Inside, his stomach had already started to fold in on itself, and his palms had broken out in a cold sweat. But he could handle this. “Get Ozzy into his carrier. Give him lots of blankets and keep him warm.” He missed the keyhole a few times after tossing all his shit in the passenger seat, then finally managed to angle it right and start the ignition. Skye continued to sob on the other end of the phone. “Skye, are you listening?”
“Y-yes.”
“Can you do all that for me?” he asked, clicking around on his built-in navigation screen before reversing the hell down his driveway. The wrought iron gate barely made it open in time for him to come barreling through.
“Y-yes,” she managed, and he nodded, smiling—if only for her to hear that smile when he spoke.
“Good girl. I’m on my way. When Ozzy is safe and comfortable, look up the directions to the emergency veterinary clinic.” He wanted to tell her to get a sample of Ozzy’s bowel movements too; Marta had gone through something similar with her dog and she’d needed to bring a stool sample. Cole had heard all about it, in graphic detail, as he and his CFO video-chatted over lunch yesterday. Skye didn’t seem in the right frame of mind to comb through Oz’s litterbox, however. “I’ll be there before you know it. Just have the directions ready, okay?”
“O-okay.”
“I’m going to hang up now,” he told her, although he really didn’t want to. “I’ll call you back in two minutes.”
She sniffled loudly. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He disconnected his cell and tapped into the screen’s phone app, directing it to call Finn. The man answered on the third ring, drawling about how Cole was missing a fabulous gallery opening. His voice lost its teasing edge, however, when Cole snapped that Skye needed them immediately, and to stand by for instructions on where to meet.
“Headed for my car now,” Finn stated, the dull roar of obnoxious society conversations echoing around him. “Keep me informed.”
“Will do.” Cole hung up and barked at the car to call Skye. Within seconds he had her back on the phone, his heart
aching as she continued to cry. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal, racing toward Coral Bay. “I’ll be there before you know it, sweetheart. Try to breathe. Everything’s going to be just fine…”
“I don’t understand why I can’t go back there with him,” Skye said miserably, staring at the off-limits door the emergency on-call vet and his technicians had carried Oz through only minutes earlier. “He’ll feel better if he knows that I’m there.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Cole rubbed his hand up and down her back slowly, seated next to her in the vacant waiting room. It was a separate room from the initial check-in area, chairs lining every inch of available wall space and a TV in the corner playing the news on mute. For the insanely high fees Skye was going to pay to have Ozzy cared for, she would have thought the waiting area for anxious owners might have been a little more comforting. Instead, there were white walls, slate tiles, and a few old magazines on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
She bit the insides of her cheeks, staring at the door. Not being able to see what was happening to her little man made her feel more helpless than she already did, but when she tried to stand up, Cole gently nudged her back into her seat.
“They know what they’re doing,” he told her, his voice kind as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Just let them do their job. You won’t be allowed in the x-ray room anyway, and Ozzy might start to stress if he sees you.”
Just hearing his name brought tears to her eyes, but she wiped them away hastily; Skye had been enough of a blubbering baby already, but she couldn’t help it. Something had been off with Oz for the last few days, but since he had been eating, drinking, and using the litterbox, her vet had told her just to keep an eye on him and don’t panic. He had seemed fine when she left for work that morning, and after a ten-hour shift that included an event with a nude art installation that ran late, Skye had just wanted to go home and curl up in bed with him.
