“Yeah. I didn’t mean for things to get so far out of hand. I have an initiation thing.”
I reached down and plucked his hand from my hip, settling it against the curve of my breast instead, and watched his eyelashes flutter again. His thumb stroked gently, standing me at attention in the space a breath, but I noticed his hand shaking.
“Are you sure you want to go?” I asked, gritting my teeth to keep from groaning at the blissful teasing sensation.
His eyes darkened with lust as they met mine. “Why is it so easy for you to bare your admittedly phenomenal body, but try so hard to hide the rest of you?”
It was my turn to freeze. This wasn’t how it went. I got naked and guys forgot about wanting to talk, or getting me to talk, or thinking about all of the reasons we would never work out. I didn’t want Cole to know me—it would hurt worse that way when he walked. I wanted him inside me, though, more than I could have imagined.
He had given me the most amazing orgasm of my life and now he was kind of ruining it.
In that moment, I knew what had drawn Emilie back to Quinn over and over again. The idea that no matter how long she lived, her body would never fit anyone else’s so perfectly. I wanted to know what it felt like to be with Cole, to connect everywhere, to know for sure if it was as crazy good as this afternoon made it seem.
The fact that he obviously didn’t feel the same pull made me feel black and oily and dirty inside, like I might be sick. My anger arrived just in time to hide the crushing disappointment. I sat up knocking his hand off me, and adjusted my bra until it covered me. “What about you, Cole?”
“What about me?”
“You’re really good about asking questions and prying into my personal life, but you never talk about you.”
“I told you about my family.”
“Right. What else?”
“What else do you want to know?”
“Why do you lead girls on?”
Cole didn’t answer, running trembling hands through his hair. We stared at each other for a minute, then he got up and walked to the shoreline, grabbed his Whitman shirt, and put it back on. The little part of me that didn’t want to fight mourned the loss of the sight of his naked chest, because damn.
I stood and slid my skirt to my ankles stepping out of it and smashing my outfit into a ball, then stuffing it in the cooler. The blanket covered my pretty much naked body, but not before I caught Cole looking. My anger bubbled hotter. He wanted me. What was he afraid of?
“Why. Do. You. Lead. Girls. On? It makes us feel stupid. I feel like an idiot right now, in case you were wondering, or like some mentally defective virgin that can’t read the most obvious signs.” He still didn’t respond. “I’m guessing this is where I stomp off like some discarded slut and we never see each other again.”
“Ruby, stop. You’re not a slut and I want to see you again. I don’t want you to leave, but I can’t…I’m not ready to have sex with you today.”
“Well, obviously not now. I think the mood ran into the ocean and committed a rather dramatic suicide.”
“I….” He rubbed a hand over his short hair, avoiding my gaze. “Can we slow things down?”
“Says the guy who had his fingers inside me two minutes ago.”
He flinched at my crass description. “Can you please trust me, Ruby? A little longer?”
“Here’s a wild idea, Cole. How about you trust me? I’ve answered the majority of your prying questions, and unlike you, I’ve never lied about what I want from you. I like you, we’re crazy attracted to each other, and we have fun together. I’d like to continue seeing you, even though I’m well aware that it won’t ever be serious. But you? You can’t even trust me with the reason you’re humiliating me right now.”
“Jesus, I’m not trying to humiliate you. How do you think I feel? The frat guy who won’t seal the deal with the most beautiful, smart, fireball of a girl at Whitman?”
“You could have sealed the deal.” I stepped toward him, deciding to try a different tack, or maybe just to prove to my pride that the problem wasn’t physical. His chest tightened under my touch and I stared up into his face, sliding my hand down to squeeze him through his shorts. He hardened against my palm, and bit back a groan when I rubbed lightly. “You could be buried inside me right now, fucking the girl you claim is the most beautiful, smart, fiery girl at Whitman on the beach in the middle of the afternoon.”
He sucked in a shaky breath.
“Instead you’d rather keep your secrets bottled up and your dick in your pants.” I stepped away, irritated at the way he almost fell forward trying to maintain contact. “Maybe I can guess your big secret. The rumors run the gamut, but you’re not impotent, obviously. I don’t think you’re gay, although I’ve been wrong before on that one.”
“I’m not gay. I think you can see that the plumbing works fine. Let’s stop this game.”
“Oh, come on, this is fun. You’re missing a ball? It’s crooked? Herpes?”
“Ruby, stop. I don’t want to fucking talk about it, okay?”
The memory of his shaking hands, of his begging me to slow things down, slammed into my chest. “Are you a virgin?”
He didn’t answer, staring at me with his mouth slightly open as though he meant for words to come out, but none did.
“It’s okay if you are.” I felt a little bad, making fun of a virgin, though how that gorgeous man could have made it to twenty-one without getting laid baffled me. It made me wonder what he thought of me, trying to seduce him in the open like I was Mae West.
“I’m not a virgin, Ruby. Drop it.” The tips of his ears reddened, but it was anger this time, not embarrassment. It radiated from him like heat.
“What, do you think I’m trying to get knocked up? Trap me a Scottish prince?” All of the color drained out of his face at the suggestion, making me think perhaps I’d hit the nail on the head.
Disgust clenched my fists. “I have an IUD, Cole. Despite your obvious worry, I’m not that kind of girl. I have my own goals, and none of them include playing nursemaid to you and a bunch of your brats.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then repeated the process. The longer we stood there not naked, him refusing to open up to me, the tighter my throat clenched around unshed tears. The fact that he didn’t trust me actually hurt more than the fact that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to sleep with me.
That was the moment I knew I was royally fucked in a completely not fun way.
“That’s not it, either,” he managed, finally.
“Then there’s really only one logical reason. You don’t like me. This is your awkward as fuck way of ending fledgling relationships. Which is still weird as hell, given that you are a guy with a working penis. It’s just super discerning and I obviously don’t make the cut.”
“That’s not it at all. There are things you don’t understand.”
I’d had enough. Of course there were things I didn’t understand—because he didn’t want to tell me. Which meant not only did he not see this lasting, he didn’t even want to give it a try.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes and the growing lump in my throat meant I couldn’t hold them off much longer. “You know what? I don’t even care. I’m used to not making the cut with the guys at this school. Thanks for the orgasm. It was fun.”
Without waiting to hear whatever lame-ass excuse he came up with next, I turned and left. He had a cell phone and a driver. Cole Stuart could find his own goddamn way home.
***
It took me most of the drive back to the DE house to cry it out, and another hour or so to calm down over a cup of tea spiked with brandy.
That’s when I started to feel badly.
My mouth, as usual, had gotten way out of hand. Cole’s stopping our hot make-out session had embarrassed me, especially given that I had no idea what nonsense I’d babbled while he played my body like an instrument he was intimately acquainted with, but lashing out had been wrong. No one kne
w about guarding insides better than I did. I was the one who went around living up to everyone’s unseemly expectations, pretending that I didn’t want anything more than hot sex out of my relationships, all so that people would assume they knew me and not bother trying to probe further.
But when Cole, who had been nothing but sweet to me, said he didn’t want to talk about something, I hadn’t understood. When had I become such a hypocrite?
“You’re not a hypocrite, Rubes. It is weird. And you don’t hide from everyone. I know you want something real in your life. It just seems like, impossible to find.”
“For some of us,” I said wryly, peering over Emilie’s shoulder as she perused the updates to the website.
She spun around in the chair, giving me a serious look. “Ruby. Last year, when I was first considering hooking up with Quinn, do you remember what you told me?”
“You’d better double bag it?”
“No.” She giggled. “That he wasn’t the kind of guy I should fall for—that I should sleep with him and then forget him.”
“Oh. That, too.”
“Well, that was Quinn. This is Cole, and I’m telling you that he’s the opposite. He is the kind of guy you fall for, the one that sweeps you off your feet. You don’t have to keep pretending you just want to sleep with him. You’ve got it bad. It’s okay.”
My eyes filled with tears. “I can’t like him. It won’t work out.”
“Maybe it will. Not everyone is like Michael, or those girls at your high school, or the three or four d-bags that have ditched you since freshman year. Maybe Cole’s different.”
“The fact that it’s been a week since I left him on the beach and haven’t heard a peep would seem to suggest otherwise.”
“He’s used to being walked out on and shunned at this point—when he disappoints the girls he’s with—and from what you told me, you said some pretty harsh shit. It might be that you did too good a job of convincing him you didn’t want anything to do with him.”
“I’m not going to beg him to see me, Em. We’re not all as confident as you.”
“Fake it until you make it, Rubes. You think it didn’t make me sick to my stomach, going to Quinn and expecting to get served the latest dish of humiliation? Hell, yes, it did. But Cole said you’re beautiful, and that he likes your spirit. Based on your description of what happened after that, it sounds like the chemistry is there. Why not give him another chance, and maybe a little more time to trust you with whatever’s holding him back?”
A knock on the door interrupted her, which was great timing since she’d started to make a little too much sense. Annette poked her head in, smiling a brief hello at Emilie. Things might be awkward between them for a while longer.
“Hey, Ruby, this was in the foyer for you.” She held out a dry cleaning bag.
Emilie glanced at the clothes hanging inside, then gave me a look that said I told you so. It was my white ruffled skirt and pink tank top, the ones I’d left with Cole, perfectly cleaned and pressed. I took the hanger from Annette and she excused herself.
“What’s the note say?”
I pulled the slip of paper off the hanger, the one that looked like a dry cleaning slip. It was, but scrawled across the front in neat handwriting were the words I’m sorry.
“Original, huh?” My emotions were like a ball of yarn a kitten had batted around for hours—hopelessly snarled. Everything Emilie had said made sense, but it only terrified me more.
If I liked Cole, or if it was okay to admit he might be the kind of guy I wanted—one that I loved spending time with, connecting with, outside of the bedroom as well as inside it, it meant I should run away faster, not back toward him.
I could get out now and not get hurt anymore.
“You’re giving him a hard time on purpose. I’m telling you, from a girl who fucking has it all right now, Rubes, that it’s worth it. Even if it only lasts a month, or six. It’s worth it.”
Chapter Sixteen
It took me another twenty-four hours to work up the nerve to go and apologize, even though it took me less than two hours to find out where Cole lived.
He and his twin brothers shared a house a block off campus. A good number of parents and other savvy investors bought up the real estate and then rented to students. I didn’t know how they afforded what had to be astronomical cleaning and repair fees after the parties, but it must have been profitable.
I parked in the street, not wanting to block the driveway. My heart pounded as I climbed out of my Acura and stepped lightly across the grass. I’d chosen a baby blue dress today, because it made me feel confident and it matched my eyes. Looking good never hurt anyone. I was pretty sure Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn or someone awesome had said that at one time or another.
I took a deep breath, hoping to settle the nerves making me feel sick, and wiped my sticky palms on my dress. I wanted to tell him I understood about not wanting to trust people, because it gave them permission to hurt you, and that I was sorry.
No big deal.
It might not change anything. He might have already decided he didn’t want anything to do with the crazy chick who tried to jump him every chance she got, then stormed off and left him stranded when he said no. I tried to be prepared for that.
The surprise on his face when he answered my knock disappeared quickly, traded for a cool mask. “Ruby. What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” I stepped past him without waiting for an answer, surveying the tastefully decorated living area. Polished wooden floors and squishy-looking furniture made for a comfortable vibe that clashed with Cole’s often uptight demeanor.
“Um, sure.”
“Thanks for sending my clothes over.”
“You’re welcome.” His eyes darted toward the hallway and he licked his lips. “What’s up?”
He seemed different—detached and nervous, and it ramped up my trepidation to unbearable heights. I heard Emilie telling me to get it over with, say what I came to say and let the chips—or my pride—fall where they may.
“I wanted to talk about the other day.”
“I really don’t know what could possibly be left to say.”
“I’m sorry for flying off the handle like that. I was embarrassed that I was pretty much stripped naked and begging you to give it to me, and you turned it down like it was the easiest decision in the world. But that didn’t give me the right to push you. We’ve only been out a couple of times, so if you’re not ready to trust me with why you don’t sleep with girls, that’s your business.”
“Ruby, can we talk about this later? This isn’t a good time.” His ears turned almost purple and he shot another nervous glance down the hall.
Annoyance spiked my blood in spite of my best efforts. “I came here to apologize, and it was really hard for me. You’re not even listening.”
“I’m listening, okay? You’re not listening. This is not a good time.” He licked his lips again.
He was more jumpy than I was, and all of the sudden it clicked into place.
“Do you have another girl back there? Is that why this is a bad time?” Anger boiled in my gut, clenching my hands into fists, even though I had no right.
“What? No! Not that it’s any of your business.”
“You’re right. I came over here thinking that when you said you liked me, you were telling the truth, and that I was the bitch for calling you out about your penis problems.” I stomped down the hallway, in the direction that had occupied so much of his attention.
“Ruby, stop.” He hurried after me, grabbing my arm, but I jerked away and kept going.
“No, you know what, I want to see what kind of girl Cole Stuart actually thinks is good enough to fuck. Or better yet, what kind of girl Cole Stuart wants to let past his charming exterior and into the guy who, God fucking forbid, might not be perfect.”
I pushed open a swinging door that led into the kitchen, and skidded a halt. What had to be Cole’s entire family—minus
an eldest brother—huddled around an oak table. The stately older man had green eyes that matched Cole’s, and the woman watched me with a dark emerald gaze that Audra had inherited. They both looked horrified—or mortified. Probably both.
Audra had a hand over her open mouth, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher, but pity definitely played into it somewhere. Nox’s face looked pretty much the same.
Only Law grinned at my appearance, giving me a ridiculous thumbs up.
I registered the entire scene in less than two seconds, then turned around and ran past Cole and out the front door. I wanted to die.
Audra called after me as I slid into my Acura and slammed it into drive. The last thing I saw in my rearview mirror was her standing on the porch, alone. Cole had probably stayed behind in the kitchen reassuring his parents that he would never, ever stoop low enough to bang a trashy girl like me, never mind get tangled up in a relationship.
What in the hell was the matter with me? How had I let Emilie talk me into coming over here today, into believing that Cole might actually be missing me, too?
Obviously, I’d been right from the beginning. Cole’s interest began and ended with getting me to change his ratings on the website, and convincing me he was a great guy hinged on that objective. We did have chemistry—that wasn’t up for debate—and maybe he hadn’t counted on that. If there had been a chance of our mutual attraction changing his mind about getting involved, this afternoon’s horrifying confrontation had erased it.
But guys like Cole Stuart didn’t fall for girls like me. Their parents wouldn’t let them.
I’d just made double sure of that.
***
“Let me get this straight. You said penis problems once, and how many times did you say fuck with his parents listening?” Quinn looked as though he was about to explode from holding back laughter.
I should have kicked him in the balls, but being mortified for six straight hours took up most of my energy. My limbs felt too heavy to lift. Emilie had responded to my emergency text message, but hadn’t been able to shake Quinn before coming over.
Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle) Page 78
