by Neve Wilder
Jason: How was the wedding?
I balked at the question because we rarely spoke of anything other than perfunctory details these days. But I supposed I could play nice. For exes, we got along well enough, especially for working within the same company. He’d been the one to get me in the door, after all, and he couldn’t help that he was a tool any more than I could help that I’d allowed him be a tool. At least I’d seen the light.
Cole: It was nice. Thanks for asking.
Jason: Did you sleep with anyone there?
My head shot up, and I stared out my open door, wondering if he was standing nearby and fucking with me for some reason. But there was only Mindy in the cubicle about five feet from my door, the ethereal blue top of her head like a tuft of cotton candy as she stared down at her laptop.
I started to type a reply text when another message came in:
Dane: How’s your ass today?
I’d gotten this same message daily since leaving Vintage Ridge. My first response had been a rather clinical recounting of the progression of bruising, but as those began to fade—and they’d been minor in the first place—I’d downgraded to gif responses, which usually set off a gif war that lasted the rest of the day. It was stupid and juvenile and pretty much the highlight of my day.
Mindy glanced up at me as I started laughing, her brows knitting in a concerned frown.
“Everything all right?”
“Oh yeah, just…irony,” I replied as I tapped my screen. To Dane, I fired off a gif of a chimpanzee spanking some guy wearing a towel. To Jason, I sent: I can’t see how that’s any of your business.
“Word.” Mindy gave me a knowing nod. “Want me to break out some Alanis? I’ve got a whole playlist with an irony theme.”
“I knew I liked you,” I told her with a grin. “Crank it up.”
10
Cole
The Metrotech headquarters were housed in a sleek, sweeping glass building, one of the taller ones in downtown Vintage Ridge, and one I’d remembered witnessing being built as a kid. I was given a tasteful, if nondescript, temporary office on the design floor.
Twisting in the ergonomic chair away from my laptop, I grimaced as I gazed out the window and onto the streets below where leaves swirled and collected in the gutters. I’d preemptively put in applications at several other companies back in Bensonville already, because despite what Blaine had told me, and despite the nice lead designer title I held, I knew what usually happened when companies were bought out. I’d also called an old headhunter friend who’d helped me find temp jobs when I was traveling overseas, and she was optimistic and reassuring, telling me there were plenty of jobs floating around if I’d be okay with contract work for a while, which I was. I didn’t come cheap, and in the time I’d been with HealthCloud, I’d busted my ass to organize the department better, create new brand manuals, refresh the logo mark and identity system, and generally bring the company’s image from the early 2000s into the current decade.
With a sigh, I turned back to my screen and clicked through slides for the presentation I’d given to Metrotech’s in-house design team earlier, then uploaded them to the company’s server. I’d been asked to sit in on several other meetings later today, which I supposed was promising, but I was still leery since I’d only found out about the merger days before it was to take place. And there was the fact that HealthCloud had already let several other staff members go the same day Blaine came into my office. Now, I considered the title and salary bump I’d been given three months ago as a kind of good-willed gesture they were hoping would allow them to cut me loose on friendly terms. I should’ve guessed.
Once the files uploaded, I pulled out my phone, letting my thumb hover over the keys while I mentally composed and discarded a dozen different messages to Dane. On the one hand, we’d tied off our weekend in a neat, uncomplicated bow, with the vague but probably unlikely possibility of a repeat over the Thanksgiving holiday. On the other, I had a strong desire to tug that bow and see it used to bind my wrists. Preferably securing me to a headboard while Dane went to town on me.
I’m in town. Let’s go out.
Lame.
I’m in town. Can I see you again?
Better.
In town, let’s hook up.
Lame, part 2.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Too soon.
I finally settled on playful:
Cole: Do you make house calls? My ass is looking awfully pale.
Since I was staying with my parents, I was hopeful my message would turn into an invitation to his place. I wondered if we’d open up his drawers of kink again. I kind of hoped so. I started losing myself in a fantasy involving a pair of handcuffs I’d seen. Maybe even throw in the nipple clamps. Imagining Dane teasing me with the cool metal clamps before they bit down on my nipples? Yeah, I could get into that. Maybe we wouldn’t even make it that far, though. Maybe he’d just bend me over the couch and shove my pants down to my ankles. I liked the idea of that, too.
I stared at the open message window after hitting Send, waiting to see the little bubbles that meant he was texting a reply. They appeared, then disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared again. The hazy arousal of my fantasy faded after a few more moments of no reply, and when a rap sounded on my door, I tucked my phone away and pulled the power cord from my laptop so I could bring it with me. Blaine had said he’d swing by to take me to the next meeting, which was several floors up in the labyrinthine complex. Dane would have to wait.
“Come in,” I called out. The offices were a modern design, glassed on three sides with a suggested barrier of a thick frosted glass line that, from where I sat, barely allowed me to see the top of the person’s head on either side of me, or their legs poking out from their chairs. The doors, however, were thick wood.
And once said door to my office opened, there stood Dane, wearing an extremely expensive-looking suit paired with an extremely sexy smirk that he gave me for free.
“Yes,” he said.
“What?” There I went again. I snapped my mouth shut as he closed the door and strolled toward my desk. “I mean, hi.” I dropped back into my chair, trying to find some composure. It was damn hard when you were caught off guard by an incredibly attractive man in a three-piece suit who was a hip jut and smoldering gaze away from something that would grace a billboard. “Wow, you’re really efficient.”
“Sometimes.”
I glanced at the tops of heads on either side of me before looking back at Dane as he parked himself on the edge of my desk. Crap. Now he had the smoldering gaze thing going, too, his gunmetal eyes trained on me with a glimmer of humor behind all the intensity.
“You’re a lawyer here? I thought you worked at some place with a lot of names I can’t remember.” I vaguely remembered Shay mentioning it a long time ago.
“Whitman, Nesmith, Schweitzer, and Loomis. Metrotech made me an offer to join their legal team a few months ago that I couldn’t refuse.” He thumbed open the button on his blazer and tilted his head, a smile curving slowly. “Hello, again.”
Heat bloomed in my chest, my gut—all over, really—at the nearness of him.
“Hello,” I croaked and then cleared my throat. “Fuck, you’ve really caught me off guard. Gimme a second.”
Dane’s smirk faded. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you worked for HealthCloud until I saw your name on the agenda this morning. We didn’t really get around to that part last weekend.” Agenda, agenda. I had one of those somewhere. Maybe. “You didn’t say anything about being in town, so I assumed that maybe you’d rather I not know. And then I got your text.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Since sophomore year when you tripped down an entire set of bleachers at the homecoming pep rally, yes. That’s a fact.” He laughed.
“That was your fault, asshole.” Dane had called out my name and tossed one of those dumb mini basketballs in my direction. I’d fumbled it, then fumbled myself into a row of
seniors. Clearly his fault. I kicked out at his foot. “I mean I should’ve called or messaged before. You said yes, though?” Christ, his proximity was still throwing me out of whack.
“Yes.” He laughed again. “I’d like to take you to dinner first, unless you want to cut straight to the fucking portion of the evening?”
“Wow. Blunt. Okay.” I blinked, then cracked up, too.
“Just trying to gauge whether I’m meant to be a companion or a commodity.”
I considered the question, then considered him: the ease with which he was poised on the edge of my desk, the unassuming curiosity in his expression.
“What if you’re both?” I narrowed my eyes dramatically at him. “Maybe slightly weighted toward the companion end, hmm? But that also depends on whether you can converse at length on Breakwater.” It was my long-standing favorite television drama and had long ago jumped the shark, but I didn’t care.
Dane’s brows flicked together, and then he pushed off the desk and braced his palms on the armrests of my chair, gaze flickering over my face as heat warmed the tops of my ears. His voice was a seductive purr. “I’ve seen every single episode.”
“You have no idea how hot that gets me.” I reached for his tie and gave it a gentle tug to pull him closer.
“Good.” The tip of his nose skimmed along my jaw. I felt the faintest impression of his lips where my jaw met my earlobe and then the warmth of his breath. “You smell nice. Familiar.” Heat thrummed between us, and then the connection snapped as Dane straightened and took a step back with a wicked grin. “I’ll see you in the meeting which starts in…” He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes.”
“You’re kind of infuriating.”
“You’re incredibly sexy, and if we had even ten more minutes, I’d drag you into one of the supply closets. Instead, I’ll sit through that meeting, thinking about what I’d like to do with you tonight.” He started for the door, tossing over his shoulder as he exited, “I’m glad you messaged. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”
I was almost late to the meeting because it took me a solid two minutes to process that last line, and then another to calm down my cock.
11
Dane
“That was really rude of you to force me to eat those last french fries.” Cole patted his nonexistent belly with a groan. He’d demolished both his order and most of mine from Allsaints Diner where we’d grabbed burgers. Initially, I’d planned on taking him to a swank bistro that had just opened, but as we were walking over, we’d passed the retro diner we’d frequented in high school. We’d both slowed and glanced at each other at the same time. In silent mutual accord, our plans had changed in an instant.
“Practically held your mouth open and shoved them in, didn’t I?” I teased.
Cole gave me some dubious side eye.
“You’re trying to decide whether or not you’re going to make something obscene of that statement and if so, what. Don’t go with ‘that’s what he said.’ Way too predictable.”
Cole’s laughter rang through the air. I loved the sound of it, always had. “Damn. I guess I haven’t changed that much, huh?”
I seesawed my hand. It was true and not. Dinner had felt like a different kind of reunion. Though the physical attraction crackled between us the same way it had at the wedding, it was Cole’s mind I was getting reacquainted with tonight. Still quick with humor and understated charm, still generous with his good-natured smiles that never failed to hit me in the gut with desire. The conversation between us flowed easily.
“You managed to hold it together in the meeting today, even when I pulled out the secret weapon. Don’t”—I pointed at him threateningly—“even say it.”
Throughout the droning voices, legalese, and PowerPoint slides, I’d repeatedly caught Cole sneaking glances at me and would grin or pull a dumb face trying to goad him into laughing the way he inevitably had in high school. He’d gotten better at holding it together, though.
“C’mon, you’re wide open there. I wish you’d pulled out your secret weapon.” Cole’s brows bounced suggestively, and he bumped my shoulder. “I would’ve enjoyed watching everyone’s reactions. Fuck, I’m getting a semi just thinking about you and ‘pulled out.’ You’re dangerous all around.”
I wrapped an arm around him, and his steps on the sidewalk slowed. He gave himself over to the gesture easily and tucked tighter into my embrace. It was a beautiful night out, the inky sky smattered with stars, a hint of fall in the air, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than strolling the sidewalks with him.
“Did you want to do something else? There are plenty of bars, dance clubs, movies…” I started down the list, but Cole was quick to dismiss the idea with a headshake.
“I like this. I can’t remember the last time I did this with someone, just walked around aimlessly. You’re a good tour guide, too.”
I’d been pointing out new shops and restaurants as we walked. As we passed a shop containing UNC-Vintage Ridge gear, Cole slowed to look in the windows, though both of us had gone out of state and held no loyalties to the local university.
“What was college like for you?” he asked. “You were dating that guy when you left, right? Reggie?”
“Reggie, yeah. We didn’t last long after the first semester started.” I chuckled, then shrugged. “Not surprising, right? He was in Chicago. I was in New Orleans. Did the same happen with you and…” I couldn’t recall his girlfriend’s name for the life of me.
“Annie. And no.” He twisted around and leaned against the shop’s window. “We barely made it through July. I was struggling. Having trouble convincing myself I was even bi, but still so goddamn stubborn.” Cole winced, and I took his hand in mine.
“You were scared, huh?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, a little. And not even of what people would think at that point. I’d gotten over that pretty fast because no one seemed to care when you came out. I mean, except for your parents,” he tacked on when I frowned. “God. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just had this hang-up about what my life was supposed to be like, kinda modeled after my parents’ relationship. I had trouble letting it go. It sounds stupid now, but that’s what it was.”
“Nah, I get it. Your parents are basically relationship goals,” I conceded. Cole’s folks had always seemed really close and in tune with each other. Warm and affectionate both with each other and with Cole and Aaron. I’d envied their family endlessly.
“Then I messed around with my first guy middle of sophomore year and I knew it was over.”
He told me about the guys he’d dated, the various hookups, the places he’d traveled after college, how he’d gotten into graphic design after taking a class freshman year. I told him how I’d become a lawyer—not out of passion for the profession but because I didn’t know what else to do and I’d demonstrated an aptitude for the courses. That I loved my job now, and I’d returned to Vintage Ridge because I considered it home even though my parents had moved away right after I’d gone to college. That maybe them moving away had made it feel even more like a haven. We talked about my foray into BDSM, my ex, how I’d drifted from the lifestyle but still kept a toe in.
“The thing is. I’ve always liked vanilla sex. And that didn’t change for me after I got into kinkier stuff. I like anything that feels right. I like a little of everything, I guess.” I chuckled. “Stop looking at me like that. I swear if you make another joke about fruit…”
Cole grinned. “I wasn’t, I swear. I’m just as guilty, remember? I was just thinking that I like that about you. How…exploratory and uninhibited you are. But you’re not a jackass about it. It’s taken me forever to open up to that stuff, too, and I’ve never really wanted to mess around like that with strangers. My last boyfriend…” He wrinkled his nose, then shook his head. “Anyway. We weren’t a good fit.” His gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, the arcade is still here?”
“Wow. You really h
aven’t come back here that much.” I followed his sightline across the street and smiled. “The games are a little more expensive now. Want to go in?”
“Hell yeah. Do they still have Donkey Kong?”
“Oh yeah, all the classics and then some. Do you still suck at Donkey Kong as much as you used to?”
Cole flashed me a provocative leer and slipped free of my hold, starting across the crosswalk as the light turned. “Come find out.”
12
Cole
Twenty dollars later, Dane and I returned to his apartment, bickering over our Donkey Kong stalemate. He rummaged around the kitchen, pulling down a pair of wineglasses, then slid one in my direction.
We both considered the giant strawberry cake sitting in the middle of his kitchen table for a moment until our eyes met and we cracked up.
“It’s such a mom thing to do,” I said. She’d insisted I bring it over “for dessert” when I’d left the house to meet up with Dane for dinner.
“A very your mom thing to do,” Dane agreed, and my smile wavered, because I got the comparison. Dane’s parents had cut him off completely as soon as he’d gone off to college.
As if sensing my thoughts, Dane pecked me quickly on the cheek. “That wasn’t a pity me moment, I promise. That was an I’m-grateful-to-once-again-be-the-beneficiary-of-her-baking moment.” He brushed past me and headed to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of white wine, which he held up for my inspection.
“Does that go with cake?” I had my doubts, but Dane shrugged.
“Why not? And I even have ice cream.”
“What flavor?”
“Vanilla.” He gave me a meaningful stare, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
