Come Back to Me

by Trilina Pucci

  “You have no idea what you do to me, Mia.” I think I do know, or at least I can feel it growing.

  “Tell me,” I say breathlessly.

  “You are, you are my light,” he says between kisses, “I don’t ever stop thinking of you. I want to bury myself inside you and hear you scream my name. I want to give you every pleasure. I only want you. You are my purpose.” I pull back to look into his eyes, not caring if this is a line. I don’t care about tomorrow. All I care about is now, and being Cole Parker’s purpose, his words touching my heart with a force that I may never recover from.

  “Come home with me, Mia. Let me have you tonight. I’ll beg if I have to.”

  He wraps his arms around my back, kissing my neck and cementing my decision. “Yes, Cole. Yes, I want to be with you tonight.” And then his gorgeous mouth closes over mine.

  We manage to not tear each other apart in the car. Once I agreed to go home with him, I purposely pulled away and told him I was not about to have sex in the car. All Cole did was laugh and say “next time”. Ummmm next time! So maybe I’m not just for one night?

  “Answer me this, though. Earlier, when you zoned out? What was the deal, what was wrong?” He turns to focus his attention on me and I can barely hide my squirming. I look out the window, debating how to tell him. It’s not a matter of not telling him, I just need to approach it the right way. I can’t explain or justify why I feel the way I do toward Cole, but I can’t lie to him or keep him out. I don’t want to.

  “Well, this is hard…” I take a breath and look down at my hands. “So, almost two years ago, I was attacked. Someone who worked in Richard’s office tried to rape me. Apparently it was stopped before that happened, but my memory has blacked out the whole event, that whole night, and it seems, two months prior to that night as well. It’s been turning my life upside down. I’ve become prone to panic attacks or fainting in stressful situations. And then, two weeks ago, the attack in the alley when you showed up. Needless to say it’s been a boatload to deal with, plus my mom and Richard worrying and driving me crazy, and … not to mention, everyone tip-toeing around me like I’m some kind of child or nothing more than a weak victim who can’t handle reality. There you have it. That’s my saga. I feel like you should know this stuff about me, because I’m not normal, and if we’re about to get intimate—and I hope we are…” I smile at him… “it seems only fair for you to know the truth. I’m totally fucked up.”

  Ironically, I’m comforted by the strength in my voice. I can say the words, repeat what happened to me without any sense of guilt or shame or responsibility. I realize in that moment in the car with Cole that I am not Carter’s victim anymore. “I blocked out a bunch of time surrounding the attack, and now memories have started flooding back in random pieces. I get triggered by something or someone and boom, a flashback.” Cole is silent, listening to me. He is the picture of an understanding observer, if not for the whites of his knuckles. His hands are fisted so tightly that I know he is reacting to what I’ve said. I reach over to touch his hands, and say, “Thank you for wanting to be my protector, but I’m okay. I’ve been dealing with it for a while.” He blinks back into focus, removing the glaze from his eyes and smiling sweetly at me.

  “You are amazing and brave, Mia, but you’ll have to forgive me for saying, I would kill whoever hurt you and I mean that sincerely.” He turns his head to gaze out the window, and in the darkness as I look at his chiseled, set profile, I know this man means what he says.

  I put my head on his shoulder. I don’t know what-all has happened in Cole’s life, but it is clear that my words have deeply affected him. I wonder to myself if that’s what draws us to each other. Maybe we were both a bit broken and we need each other because we share this profound connection.

  Pulling me from my thoughts, Cole says, “Do you think the mugging was the trigger for your memory?” I have also wondered about any connection, but it seems moot. I’m just happy my memories are coming back.

  “The revelation is that my recent attack has been linked to the man who tried to rape me two years ago. Somehow he is back out on the streets. His family has no idea where he is, but Richard has been looking into it.” I can’t believe I’m spilling every detail of the situation. He’s so easy to talk to!

  Cole turns to look at me with anger rippling off of him. “What?!” He booms. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? You’ve been walking around for a week without any sort of security or protection from this madman?! Why are you acting like it’s no big deal, Mia?! Why the fuck hasn’t Richard told me this?!”

  Whoa! Where the hell is this coming from? Why would Richard tell Cole about my attacker, just because Cole helped get me to safety afterward? I guess maybe that makes sense. I know Cole wants to protect me, but this reaction seems a bit extreme. I start to protest, but he holds up his hand to stop me. “Mia, I know it may seem fast, but you are precious to me. You are special and I will not allow anything to happen to you, ever again.” His last words sound like despair and regret. They also indicate that he plans to be around for the long haul. What else does ‘ever again’ mean? “I’m calling Richard tomorrow to have a conversation about this, I will not be told not to.”

  I sit staring at this beautiful maniac. I’m not what sure what to say. Do I tell him that I refused any security from Richard and my mother because I was secretly hoping Carter would find me? If Carter finds me and tries to hurt me, his death will look like self-defense. Then there’s the other option—I play dumb and let everyone believe I am fragile and in need of a guardian. I choose option three—he freedom excuse.

  “Cole, I don’t want any security. I don’t want to live in a bubble. I can’t spend my life looking over my shoulder. I know Richard is looking for Carter Williams, and I trust that I will be safe.”

  Cole physically blanches when I say Carter’s name.

  “Bullshit. You aren’t fooling me. Never lie to me, Mia. I’m all in with you. Your crazy doesn’t scare me, baby, but never lie to me.” He is serious. I believe him and in that moment I know there is nothing I could do that would scare him away.

  Fine, I’ll call your bluff. “I want him to find me.”

  “What? Don’t become a vigilante, Mia. Murder isn’t an option for you.” He shakes his head, connecting the dots much faster than I expected.

  “Self-defense is an option,” I smart back quickly.

  “Not when it’s premeditated. You couldn’t and shouldn’t have to live with that, Mia. I won’t let you carry that burden.” He kisses the back of my hand.

  I know deep down that he’s right. I know I would struggle with purposely taking a life, but my hope is that the life I take will save others from harm and anguish, and that will justify my intentions. I feel Cole’s piercing stare, and know he is reading my thoughts. He wraps his arm around me and says, “We will figure this out. First, I need to know you are safe, and then I’ll find a way to make you understand that you’ve got me, baby. I’m in your corner.”

  “Well! This has been one helluva car ride.” I can’t help worrying that this man has no idea what kind of ride he is in for. I’m too much baggage. I can’t understand why anyone would want to take this kind of tragedy on.

  “I’m sorry, Cole. Tonight started out so differently! I’m sorry for ruining the mood.” He must have serious buyer’s remorse.

  “Why are you apologizing? I want all of you, not just the pretty parts. Although I would very much like to see your parts…” he says with eyes twinkling. “Come on, let’s go home.” He steps out of the car to turn and lend his hand to me.

  Home… That was an odd thing to say. I don’t correct him because it’s the kind of thing people say absentmindedly, and if I’m being truly honest, I like it. I like the idea of Cole being my home.

  I don’t understand why my feelings for him are so intense, but I’m not going to second guess it. He holds my hand the whole way up as we ride the elevator to his penthouse.

  Penthouse isn�
�t the right word. The moment you exit the elevator, you see an entire wall of windows overlooking the city. The view is striking, but a mere back drop to the beauty of the home itself. Beyond the foyer is a great room with an industrial style chef’s kitchen offset by a gigantic island; this faces the living room that houses large, down-stuffed couches and an oversized fireplace. To the left of the living room is the dining area with a long wooden table and gorgeous lights overhanging.

  The house exudes comfort, not exactly what I expected from a bachelor pad.

  “Make yourself at home, can I get you something to drink?”

  “Sure, whatever you’re having is fine”

  “I’m having scotch, perhaps something a little lighter?”

  “Surprise me, you seem to know what I’m thinking before I do.” I wander into the living room.

  I put my purse down on a side table, kick off my shoes, and curl up on the corner of the couch, against the arm. Cole smiles as he enters and hands me my drink.

  “I’m glad you like the couch,” he smiles. Sometimes when his eyes twinkle, it’s like he’s laughing at some kind of inside joke.

  “I do like it. I’m surprised at this living room. I expected something less cozy.”

  “Why, because I am a notorious shark that just needs somewhere to sleep?”

  “No, sharks don’t sleep.”

  “Ahh,” he winks. “We won’t either.”

  “That’s a pretty bold statement. Maybe I’m not interested anymore. You aren’t so cute now that I’m sobering up.”

  “We both know that’s a lie. You can pretend all you want, but you want me inside of you as much as I want to be there.” He takes a slow sip of his drink.

  I almost spit my drink out. I lock eyes with him to make some snarky comment, and I’ve got nothing. The games I used to enjoy don’t feel the same with Cole. It all seems childish and superficial. I am more myself with this handsome, devastating stranger than people I’ve known for years. For a moment, we just sit and stare at each other. I don’t understand why he is turning my world around and I don’t even want to stop him. I can feel his affection for me. It’s written on his face. More than a look, his sincere expression feels like a promise.

  My entire body yearns for him. I want to forget my head for one night. Forget my sorrows and the harsh realities of life. Lots of people escape stress and worry to the temptation of dark forces. Let Cole Parker be my drug.

  I push myself up and crawl over to lay my cheek on his chest.

  “Can we just lay together?” I snake my arms around his waist. I can feel him smile.

  “I can’t think of anything in the world that would make me happier. I mean, I can, but this is pretty special, too.”

  He stands and reaches his hand out to me. For a millisecond, I feel like Alice—this is what it feels like to go down the rabbit hole.

  I take his hand and follow him into the bedroom, an immense space with a four poster bed, positioned for an exquisite view of the city. Behind the bed are the bathroom suite and a double closet. It’s a perfect setup, everything I would want in my own room.

  “I bet the ladies love this.” I wave at the room, mostly the bed.

  “Ladies? Oh right, the infinite string of ladies who come here for meaningless sex that I forget the next day… those ladies?” He rolls his eyes while taking off his watch.

  “Just when I thought it couldn’t sound any worse…”

  “Mia, I don’t have ladies, or even one lady.” Yeah, right.

  “Are you trying to sell me the idea that you are a lone wolf, no steady gal pal or booty calls?”

  He lets out a frustrated huff. “I’m not selling anything, Mia. I’m stating fact.”

  My eyes widen as I realize he’s telling the truth. Now I’m just curious.

  “Okay, what gives, you’re attractive and…”

  “So you find me attractive?” The shit-eating grin is back.

  “Shut up, you know I do. I just don’t understand why you’re alone. You are a dream.”

  “Ooh, I’m dreamy now.”

  I laugh at his jibing. “Stop, you know what I mean.”

  Cole smiles, puts his hands on my shoulders, and turns me around to admire the view.

  “Be quiet and look.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head. We stand for a few minutes looking out, and then out of nowhere, he confides, “I gave my heart away a long time ago, and I refuse to take it back.” Refuse, present tense.

  I hate her, whoever she is. I also hate that my heart just broke into a million pieces, because he just confirmed that he will never be fully free to love me. Being disappointed that I can’t have him is proof that I really want him, more than just for tonight. I want Cole Parker to be mine. I have no idea how this got so intense so fast, but even more pathetic is that I might be happy to take whatever he is able and willing to give. I’m falling for him.

  Before I fall into sadness, he turns me around and kisses me long and deep. When he pulls away, I’m breathless. He brushes my hair from my face. “You can grab a shirt from the top drawer, I’m sure it will fit as a nightgown of sorts.” Then he walks out the door.

  When it closes, I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I grab a shirt from the top drawer and inhale his scent. I love the way he smells, crisp and soapy with something that just screams man. I hurry into the bathroom, to change and freshen up.

  I look flushed in the mirror, my cheeks are rosy from smiling and my eyes are sparkling from laughing. Happiness is pretty! I barely know him, and this is what he does to me. I’m already an addict.

  When I come out, Cole is sitting up in bed, reading emails on his laptop.

  Without looking up, he pats the bed next to him and like Pavlov’s dog, I crawl in and lay my head on his chest. He kisses the top of my head and says “I’ll be five more minutes and then you will have my undivided attention.”

  Five minutes is fine. Five minutes is good. I can barely focus, he’s shirtless in just pajama bottoms. His abs are insane and the feel of his chest against my cheek is heating up my insides. I am secretly regretting that whole cuddle idea.

  I run my hand across his stomach and curl closer to him, and with that he closes his laptop and places it on the bedside table.

  “Now,” he says in a teasing, ominous tone, “let’s get down to business.”

  He scoots down until we are lying face to face, my heart racing because I know he is going to kiss me, and then he says, “favorite take-out?”

  My eyes get wide, “seriously?”

  “Yes, is that too personal? Okay, we can start light. Favorite sexual position?”

  “Ha! Okay, so we are getting to know each other?”

  “Well, yes. I told you, I want all of you.” He squints at me, “And you need to break up with Jerry.”

  “It’s… Jack.” Oh my God! I almost said Jake.

  Cole smiles, smugly satisfied. Ugh, jerk!

  I try a different approach… “Bringing back the memory of that dinner isn’t helping your ‘get to know each other’ plan.”

  He smiles again. “Just answer one question. Which question, well that’s your choice?”

  “Chinese. I’m partial to shrimp fried rice and eggrolls.”

  “Favorite color? No wait, favorite childhood memory. Start with that one.” He looks like a child at Christmas, waiting to open his presents. Does he think of me as a gift he’s opening?

  “Ha ha ha, will I get to ask any questions?”

  “No, I ask the questions. You are more interesting. Now answer.”

  “You are insane!”

  “Just crazy about you.” Suddenly his smile fades to a smoldering gaze that makes me heart leap in my chest. I’m in trouble! I lean in and kiss him; I can’t stop myself.

  He keeps his eyes closed for a second longer than necessary, as if he is committing it to memory. When he opens his eyes he says, “Answer!”

  We go on like that for most of the night, him houn
ding me with questions and receiving the answers with appreciation and applause. Every once in a while, he answers a question from me. I find out that he has a sizable tattoo (it looks like a bunch of longitudes and latitudes) that runs down one side of his body, although he won’t tell me the meaning. He asks everything about me from my favorite color to my favorite band. Occasionally we stop to debate, like when he swears chocolate and fudge are basically the same. Not even a little!! I’m not sure exactly when we stop, but sleep overtakes us and halts our perfect night together.

  It’s the middle of the night when I wake up. I cannot figure out where Cole’s body ends and mine begins. We are a tangled mess and I could easily lie here and enjoy this, but I have to pee. I pry him off me and step quietly to the bathroom, where I take a second to stand in front of the mirror and think about the night. Everything has been perfection, even the rough parts. I walk back to bed and when I start to climb in, I notice it’s empty. I look around and don’t see Cole, so I go out to the living room, and as I pad through the wide open room I hear ice clink in a glass. I look to my left to see Cole sitting in a club chair, swirling the dark liquid in his glass.

  I’m frozen; I can feel it. I can feel his lust.

  “Come back to bed.”

  “Shhh.” He takes another sip. I am acutely aware that he isn’t quieting me, he is calming, soothing, coaxing. Getting me ready for what’s about to happen. I am so ready. He makes me burn in all the right places. The energy between us is combustible.

  I don’t know why from the first time he said my name I felt tethered to him in a way I’ve never experienced with anyone else. Maybe this is just perfect timing, or maybe it’s because he saved me from the alley. Forget his insanely good looks and cool demeanor. The look he gives me makes time stand still. He looks at me like he’s ready to pounce and devour me, and I want him to.

  He’s making it obvious he plans to take his time. All he does is lick his lips and I’m wet. He stands and walks toward me. My breath speeds up and I can feel the delicious buzz of adrenaline.