Because deep down I knew, that even though he drove me crazy, Cole was the only person who made me feel alive. With anyone else, Theo included, I was just going through the motions. With Cole, it was balls to the walls, let’s set the house on fire passion.
And I was terrified with how desperately I wanted that in my life. I was scared at how willing I was to sacrifice just about anything, my pride included, to experience those tantalizing moments when every nerve in my body detonated.
Cole was my crack. And I wanted to crush him up and snort him.
When Gracie had asked me to come to a movie with her and a few of her friends from the coffee shop, I had declined. I chose to ignore the brief look of relief that flittered across her face.
I opted instead to spend my evening with my best friends Ben and Jerry.
I was grunged out in my oldest pair of sweat pants. They were a pink with the faded word “juicy” along the ass. The elastic had given out about twenty washes ago and I had them held up with safety pins. I had gone sans bra and instead wore a Generation Rejects shirt I had ganked from Cole’s floor over a year ago.
And yes I had kept it. And yes I still wore it when I was lonely and depressed like I was now. And yes that made me borderline pathetic.
There was no sense bringing up the fact that I used to try to smell his scent on the cotton for months after I had “mistakenly” brought it home.
Because that would be just plain sad.
I had scrubbed my face and was without any makeup. All in all I wasn’t meant for public eyes.
I was scrapping the last remnants of my icecream from the bottom of the carton with my spoon when the doorbell rang. I startled and almost screamed. Not because I was scared, but because I was in my Juicy sweatpants with no makeup on.
Who in the world would be coming by at eight-thirty on a Saturday night? I prayed it was a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses or an old encyclopedia salesman I could ignore.
I quickly took my hair down and attempted to comb my fingers through it. It was a rat’s nest and desperately needed a deep conditioning. I pulled up my sagging pants and walked over to the door just as the bell chimed again.
I wiped around my mouth trying to remove the evidence of my binge ice cream eating before finally opening the door.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said before I could censor myself.
“Bad time?” Cole asked, standing on my front stoop, looking gorgeous and clean and nothing at all like the last time I had seen him. He was holding two plastic bags and was wearing a pleased grin.
I thought about slamming the door in his face and hiding in my room but I figured I was capable of rising above such an immature impulse.
“Anytime you show up is a bad time,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest, remembering that I wasn’t wearing a bra and my C cups were flopping away under my T-shirt.
“Is that my shirt?” Cole asked, peering at my chest. I tightened my arms and started to back away.
“No!” I lied.
Cole lifted an eyebrow. “Actually, I think it is! I’ve been looking all over for it!” he accused chidingly.
“Whatever, it’s mine now,” I responded petulantly.
Cole chuckled. “It looks a hell of a lot better on you anyway,” he conceded and I couldn’t argue with the truth.
“Why are you here, Cole? I was having a perfectly good evening spending time with Leonardo DiCaprio and Baked Alaska,” I said, feeling entirely too off balance by his sudden arrival.
I couldn’t figure out what on earth he could be doing at my apartment. Things had been left with little opening for a renewed acquaintance. I thought I had made myself perfectly clear.
I wasn’t going to sleep with him.
No matter how delicious he looked.
Or how nice he smelled.
Or the fact that he brought a bag containing all of the ingredients needed to make Lemon Drops, my favorite cocktail.
“What’s this for?” I asked suspiciously. Was he planning to get me drunk so he could have sex with me? Was this his dastardly plan? If so, I saw right through it. And a horny, masochistic part of me approved.
“You were right,” Cole said suddenly and without preamble.
“I usually am, but what specifically was I right about?” I asked, giving up on trying to hide my braless boobs behind my arms and opted for letting the puppies fly.
And I was also feeling extremely magnanimous so I moved aside, giving Cole silent permission to step inside.
He walked across the threshold and stopped. He looked around, taking everything in.
“This is my first time in your apartment,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes it is,” I agreed.
“We’ve known each other for over two years and I’ve never been here before. Why is that?” he asked as if genuinely confused.
“Because you’re a self-centered jackass,” I offered.
Cole smiled in that sexy, heart-melting way of his and I had to take a deep breath to calm my racing pulse.
“I think you might be on to something there,” he said, dropping the bags onto the coffee table. He took in Romeo and Juliet paused on the television and the three empty ice cream tubs on the floor.
“Shit, you weren’t lying,” he remarked.
“I told you I was having a hot night,” I said dryly, my vanity already kicking me in the ass for choosing comfort over cuteness.
Always prepare for hot guy visits, Vivian! You know better!
Cole seemed entirely too interested in his surroundings. He took a slow perusal of the knick-knacks and framed photographs, stopping to pick up one from my senior year at Rinard. A Chi Delta sister had taken it of Maysie, Gracie and myself when we had dressed as flappers for a mixer.
“Cute,” he said, putting it back. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. He was making me uncomfortably edgy.
“So what was I right about?” I prompted, getting back to the point of his impromptu visit.
Cole stopped circling the room and came back to stand in front of me. My entire body started to buzz with awareness. It was as though my cells were beating against my skin, demanding that I touch him.
It was so freaking annoying.
“When you said I didn’t know anything about you. I think it’s time I changed that,” Cole said, surprising me.
What was he talking about?
Cole reached out and gently pulled down the stretched out neck of my T-shirt. I tensed up, not sure what he was going to do. He slowly and carefully traced the line of my scar that ran between my breasts.
“You told me I didn’t know how you got this scar. You were right. I didn’t know. And I should have. We have spent the last two years learning every inch of each other’s bodies but I know nothing about who Vivian Baily is. I didn’t think I even wanted to know. But I was wrong. I want to know everything.”
I shivered involuntarily as he lazily traced the puckered skin.
I chuckled nervously. “That will take a while,” I said a little breathlessly.
Cole dropped his finger and smiled. “I’ve got all night. If Leo doesn’t mind, of course,” he grinned.
Did I want him to stay?
I didn’t know!
I was so confused!
My sagging pants slipped below my hips and I hastily pulled them up before Cole got an eyeful of my granny panties.
Oh shit, I was wearing granny panties!
Just more incentive to keep my pants on!
“Why?” I asked, not entirely trusting his motives.
Cole sighed and that vulnerability I had only just become acquainted with made itself known.
“Because it’s lonely thinking and worrying only about yourself. I’ve missed out on a lot. One of the biggest is getting to know you. We’ve fucked but we’ve never really hung out. I’ve told you my shit but you’ve never told me yours. This has been a purely one-sided relationship for entirely too long. I know you kicked me out of your l
ife. I know you’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me. But please, Viv, just give me one night to know you. To figure out what’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours. I want to show you that I’m not all bad. That I can be a nice guy. And if at the end you still want me gone, I’ll leave. You’ll never have to see me again.”
It sounded simple enough, but nothing with Cole was ever free of conditions.
“No sex,” I said firmly, pointing at him in warning.
Cole held up his hands. “No, sex. Well, not unless you ask nicely,” he teased and I groaned, rolling my eyes.
“Can I put this stuff in your kitchen?” he asked, holding up the plastic bags.
“Sure, it’s through there.” I pointed him in the right direction. I followed him into the brightly lit room.
“This place makes mine look like a shithole,” he said, taking in the soft green walls and bright white wooden cabinets.
“That’s because your place is a shithole,” I responded.
“True,” he agreed, getting out the ingredients needed to make drinks and setting them out on the counter.
“You’re making me Lemon Drops? You really are trying to get on my good side,” I stated, watching as he found the low-ball glasses and mixed my favorite drink.
“We’re not having sex,” I felt the need to reiterate.
Cole traced an x over his chest. “Cross my heart, I won’t get in your too big for you pink sweatpants. I won’t take advantage of you. But if you come on to me, I can’t be sure of the consequences.”
I snorted. “I think we’re safe then.”
Cole gave me a look screamed liar!
Because I was a liar.
If Cole knew anything about me, it was that when it came to him I had zero self-control.
With our drinks in hand, we went back out to the living room and sat down on the couch. Cole turned off the television and got out a deck of cards.
“No strip poker!” I warned.
“Seriously, Viv, you act as though I have a one-track mind,” he admonished. He started to deal out several pile of cards.
“Have you ever played Spit?” he asked and I pursed my lips, still wondering if this some elaborate sex ruse.
Who was the one with a one-track mind?
“Uh, no,” I said.
“Let me show you,” he said and went about explaining the most complicated card game I had ever heard of.
“And when you call Spit I have to answer a question, any question about myself. And likewise if I call Spit. You have to be totally and completely honest with me.”
I took a long drink of my Lemon Drop. This could get dangerous. I could feel it.
It wasn’t long before Cole had beaten me soundly and was asking his first question.
He started easy enough.
“Favorite food?”
I didn’t have to think about that one. “Coffee,” I answered.
Cole laughed. “That’s not a food, Vivian.”
“Fine, pizza. Even though it makes my ass fat, I can’t get enough. Slather dough in greasy cheese and tomato sauce and I’m salivating like a dog,” I said.
Two minutes later I threw my hands up in the air after Cole yelled spit once again. “This isn’t fair! I’ll never win!” I complained.
“Stop your bitching and just answer the question. What is your most embarrassing moment?”
“Aside from having my eyes fused together with honey in some ridiculous sex act? Or the time I was handcuffed to a bed dressed as a nun and a locksmith had to set loose?” I asked and Cole actually flushed.
“Uh y...yeah, besides that,” he stammered and I couldn’t help but snicker.
“Okay, fine, most embarrassing moment excluding getting kinky with you, probably the time I threw up all over Tim Dalton, the boy I had a massive crush on in the fifth grade. I was mortified and even though he was totally nice about it, it ruined any chance I had of becoming Mrs. Dalton,” I sighed dramatically.
“Well, all the better for me.” Cole winked and I had to look away.
A few minutes later, it was my turn to yell spit and I crowed in delight.
“I won! I won!” I exclaimed, doing a dance in my seat, pumping my fists into the air.
“Yeah, yeah. Beginner’s luck,” Cole pouted.
I stuck my tongue out at him and put my forefinger to my chin as I thought about my question.
“Hmm. . .there are so many things I want to know! How to choose?” Cole groaned.
“Jesus, just ask something already.”
I glared at him and finally thought of something.
“Why don’t you like Jordan?” I asked. It had always bugged me. It was obvious Cole didn’t have the relationship with Maysie’s boyfriend that he had with the other guys. When I asked Maysie about it, she never really had an answer for me.
“I don’t not like Jordan. Honestly. It’s sort of complicated,” Cole said.
“Uh, uh. That’s not going to cut it. You have to tell me the truth.” I wagged my finger in his face.
“It’s not that I don’t like him, I guess I’ve always been jealous of him,” Cole finally admitted.
I sat back, surprised. I hadn’t been expecting that.
“What? Why?”
“Because everyone likes him. He has this natural talent and he was this super big deal from the moment he started working at Barton’s. He had these hot girlfriends and my friends thought he was oh so cool. It drove me nuts. I was used to being the big cheese. And then this frat dude comes along and suddenly I’m not so important anymore.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?” I reasoned. Cole gave me a look. One that wasn’t entirely pleased with my less than sensitive response.
“Yes, I know it’s ridiculous. But sometimes how you feel isn’t exactly rational.”
I got that. Probably better than most.
“But I respect him. I really do. He’s a cool guy. And I honestly hate the way things are between us right now.”
I dropped the cards. “What happened, Cole? Why aren’t you talking to the other guys?” I asked.
Cole opened his mouth to answer me then shut it, giving me a shaky smile. “Uh-uh. You have to win to get me to answer. Now deal.”
I was disappointed but determined to win some more games. There was too much I wanted to know. Too much that of the mystery that I needed to solve.
I lost the next three games. And in doing so I had to admit the age in which I lost my virginity (sixteen), who the guy was, (Samuel Davis), and my favorite movie (Dirty Dancing, of course).
“I feel like I’m giving you everything and I’m not getting anything in return. It’s the story of our entire relationship I suppose,” I said, only semi-bitterly. I had consumed several Lemon Drops and was feeling a pleasant, hazy glow.
It was nice having Cole in my apartment. It was cool hanging out with him in a way that I had never done before. And it was really great having him ask me things about myself that he seemed to sincerely want to know.
But I wanted to go deeper. I wanted to know Cole.
“Okay, enough of the game,” Cole said, taking the cards from my hand and putting them in a pile on the coffee table.
“Hey, I was totally going to win the next hand,” I complained.
“We don’t need a card game to talk to each other. Let’s just have a conversation like normal people,” he suggested and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, cause we’re so normal,” I scoffed.
“You keep rolling your eyes, they’re going to get stuck like that,” he joked, smoothing the frown lines between my eyebrows with his finger.
“You said I wasn’t giving you anything. Well, let’s talk. What do you want from me?” he asked.
Damn. What a loaded question.
I took a deep breath and thought long and hard about how I was supposed to answer that.
“Why all the girls, Cole? Why wasn’t I ever enough for you?” I asked posing the question that had tormen
ted me for so long. I hated how weak and vulnerable I sounded, but it needed to be answered. If I was ever to move on, if I was to ever get past this thing with Cole, I had to know why he continued to hook up with other women when he had me.
What was it about me that didn’t fulfill him?
“God, Viv,” he murmured, cupping my cheek.
“You have always been more than enough for me. When you’re around, everything else fades away. All I see, all I want is you.”
“Then why, Cole? Why did you humiliate me over and over again?” I demanded, my voice cracking with emotion.
He rubbed his thumb along my skin; his eyes agonized.
“Because I’m a fucking idiot. Because I thought that being with all of those women meant that I mattered. That they wanted me. I was trying like hell to fill this ugly void inside and I ended up only feeling empty. Until I was with you. And then you made me feel alive.”
My heart fluttered wildly in my chest. Hadn’t I just thought the same thing about him?
“You made me look like a moron, Cole. People think I’m a total doormat for putting up with your shit. I hate the way you make me look,” I whispered, feeling my eyes start to glaze over, hot with unshed tears.
“Baby, you’re not a moron. I’m the moron. I’m the dumbass who didn’t see what I had until it was gone. I took for granted that you were there. That you would always be there. Until you weren’t anymore. And then all this stuff started going down with the band and the only person I wanted to talk to was the one person who wanted nothing to do with me.”
I pulled back. His hand on my face was far too intimate.
“Growing up, all I had were my looks. The girls wanted me because I was nice to look at. And I used it to my advantage. I didn’t have parents that wanted me around so I found attention where I could. And then the band happened and it was like everyone wanted me. And for the first time in my life I thought that I had something that could make me happy. But I was wrong. Because those girls, the audience, they don’t want me. They want the singer. The image. There are only a handful of people on this earth that know the real Cole Brandt. And I’ve systematically shit on each and every one of them.”
Cole leaned back on the couch and covered his face with his hands. I didn’t move. I didn’t comfort him. I let him be. He needed to have this realization on his own. I wouldn’t coddle or console him. He needed to feel the pain and the ugly. He needed to see how his selfish behavior had impacted everyone around him.
Seductive Chaos Page 23
