by Ann Garner
“Maybe if you shut up and let her explain.”
“I don't need her to explain anything.” Grace interrupts him. Part of me is relieved because I don't want to talk about it again.
“I think you need to hear her out,” Cole says again. I feel the slight tightening of his fingers where they have come to rest on my waist. He doesn't want to hear it again any more than I want to say it.
“No.”
“Grace,” Grant mummers softly. “You need to tell them.”
“Tell us what?”
Ally has come down the stairs, and she doesn't seem at all surprised to see me standing there next to Cole. She just gives me a small smile as she grabs the cup of coffee out of Holden's hands and takes a small sip.
“I don't need her to tell me because I already know.” Grace finally says and I feel all the blood drain out of my face.
How does she know? And if she knows then who else does? Obviously Cole hadn't known; I had taken him by complete surprise last night.
“What are you talking about?”
Grace sighs, sinking into a chair at the table. “I Googled your name, Delaney. Weeks ago. Right after you moved out.”
I swallow, but I can't make any words come out of my mouth. Cole doesn't have the same problem.
“What the fuck, Grace. You knew? And you didn't tell me.” His voice has the same layer of ice to it now that I heard that day in the bookstore. I lay my hand on his arm, feeling the tension sliding through his body.
“Stop, Cole,” I whisper. “It's okay.”
“No it isn’t,” he snaps. He's glaring at Grace. “I can't believe you fucking knew and didn't tell me. All these months,” his voice trails off and it isn't just anger in his eyes, but hurt.
“It had to come from me, Cole,” I say. I look at Grace who is battling tears after being yelled at by Cole. “It had to come from me or it wouldn't have meant anything,” I tell him, but my eyes stay locked with hers. I try to convey every bit of how sorry I am in those words, in my eyes that stay locked on hers. She breaks eye contact, looking behind me to Cole.
“How was I supposed to tell you that, Cole? She'd already broken your heart. I didn't want to stomp it into the ground. Fuck.” She runs her hand through her hair.
“You saw the pictures?”
She meets my gaze again. “Yes, I saw the pictures.”
“What pictures?”
Grace shakes her head at Cole’s question. “I promise, you don't want to see them. It isn't something you’ll forget.”
“The store manager,” I wait until Cole is looking at me before I continue. “He took pictures, on his cell phone while he waited for the cops.”
“Fucker,” Grant mutters before dropping down next to Grace. His hand drops casually over hers on the table. “He should be in prison too.”
“He saved my life.”
“That doesn't make him any less if a douche.” Grant says.
“Who else knows?” My hand reaches back and links with Cole’s.
“Just us.” Grace runs her hand through her hair again. “Just us and Robby.” She looks to Cole. “He wanted to tell you, but I made him swear. I was just trying to protect you, Cole.”
“If you had told me, this could have been over months ago. We could have been together.”
I'm shaking my head the second the words come out. “I wouldn't have been ready months ago, Cole. It had to be me that told you, and it had to be me telling you when I was ready to tell you. I would have done the same as Grace. Don't be mad at her.”
I've turned to look at him, and after a moment he smirks. “You’ve told me that before.”
“She loves you. Maybe almost as much as I do.”
That gets him to smile. I lean up on tiptoe, pressing my lips against his briefly. I know I need to talk with Grace, to try and explain what I had been thinking, what I had been going through.
But at that moment all I want to do is revel in the fact that I am back with Cole, back with the friends I have come to think of as my family. Looking at him, this guy who loves me despite, or maybe because of, all I've been through, I feel the pieces of myself that I've hoarded for years click into place. Not the same as before, not perfect or whole, but enough that I have something to offer him. And that's all I really need.
“Are my eggs ready?” I ask with a smile. “I'm starving.”
Chapter Twenty Two
I'm cleaning unnecessarily. I'm the only one who lives in the apartment and I'm not exactly a slob, so there is never really a whole lot of cleaning to do, but I'm nervous so I'm dusting.
Cole had spent the first part of spring break at home with his family. He'd wanted me to go with him, but Grace and I were still on shaky ground and I didn't want to put everyone right in the middle of all that tension.
And I was terrified of seeing his parents again after everything that had happened. Even though he assured me that they weren’t upset, and were just happy that he was happy. So I had made him go alone, with extensive assurances that it wouldn't end like the last time I had made him go home without me.
But he was on his way back now to spend the remainder of spring break with me. I had even gotten the next few days off from the bookstore. Cliff’s only concession had been that I had to bring Cole in so he could meet him, and I had to give serious consideration to letting him ban Beth.
He would be here in time for dinner, but I was too nervous to be anywhere even close to hungry.
I wasn't planning on letting him go back to his apartment tonight. And the thought was making me slightly nauseous, but not for the reasons I thought it would.
In the past month our relationship had shifted and slid, changing from what it had been before and moving towards something so much better.
With a sigh, I shook my head and forced myself to put the dusting supplies away and go and take a shower. My third of the day, but who was keeping count?
I slipped into a pair of loose faded jeans with a loose white tank top. I left my hair down and loose, the light curls bouncing around my shoulders. I debated shoes, and really who has to have a ten minute internal debate about whether or not to wear shoes?
The decision was made for me when I heard Cole knock, and with one final glance at my slightly flushed face in the mirror I hurried to answer the door.
I wonder briefly if my heart would ever stop stuttering at the sight of him. He’s smiling at me, and before he can say anything I lean forward and lay my mouth against his.
I know it catches him by surprise. I very rarely initiate anything physical between us. In fact, other than that one night after we'd gone to the bar, and the occasional quick kiss, I don't think I had ever been the one to start things.
But I want to today because I don't want there to be any doubt on his side that this is what I want, that he is what I want.
It doesn't take long for the surprise to fade away. He brings one hand up, cupping the side of my neck; fingers burying in my hair, he takes the kiss deeper.
I instinctively go to move closer to him, but something sharp pokes into my chest. I yank back, startled, and see that he's carrying a pizza box in one hand. And that he's laughing at me.
“Sorry. You said you only had frozen dinners and I'm starving.” He moves past me into the kitchen, sliding the pizza on the counter. I move with him, going to the cabinets to pull out plates and a glass for him. I've started stocking his favorite soft drink, and I know it's what he'll want, so I pull out the bottle and a bottle of water for me.
“How were your parents?”
“Upset that you wouldn't come. Shit, that’s still hot.” He drops the pizza slice down on a plate before scooting it over towards me. “But Mom understood. Although I'm supposed to tell you that it only applies to this trip. Next time I show up without you she's going to come hunt you down.”
“And Grace?”
Shaking his head he says, “The two of you seriously need to sit down and work this out, she asks me about you every time
I see her, but she's good.”
I shrug my shoulders. “We will, one day. Girls work differently than boys when it comes to this sort of thing.”
In the twenty minutes he's been here he's eaten half the pizza while I've managed about half of my original slice. He's sitting on my small couch, one arm spread across the back. It's still a little cool outside so he's dressed in a pair of loose jeans and a black t-shirt, his curls contained under a baseball hat that he's wearing backwards.
“What are you doing way over there?”
I'd settled into the small reading chair in the corner of the room, afraid that if I touched him again I was going to go up in flames. At his question, I feel the blush race up my neck.
“No reason.” I mutter in answer to his knowing smirk.
“Then come over here and neck with me on the couch, Delaney.”
“Neck? I'm sorry, what year is it? 1955?”
“Would get your ass over here so I can stick my tongue down your throat be better?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Uh, no.”
Laughing he says, “So just get over here. I've missed you.”
My legs are shaking so bad I'm afraid they aren't going to hold me, but I push off the chair anyway and head over to the couch. I don't sit down though. I stand in front of him, hesitating only a second before I hold my hand out to him.
He looks at it for the briefest of moments before smiling and saying, “We aren't going to watch the game, are we?”
And just like that, every doubt I have disappears. Smiling, I shake my head no. “Not unless you really, really, want to.”
He slips his hand into mine. “I think I can miss it this one time. I guess.”
“You guess, huh?” I pull him to his feet, thrilled when his arms automatically lock around my waist.
“Delaney.” His voice is soft, serious, his gaze direct on mine. “We don't have to do this now.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “We can wait. However long it takes, Delaney. I'm here for you, the rest can come when it comes.”
And had I been hesitant at all, his words would have been enough to tip the scales.
“I love you, Cole. I never thought I was going to get to say that to anyone. I never thought I was going to be standing here, in this spot, wanting to make the next move.” Leaning up on tiptoe, I brush a light kiss across his mouth. “I think I've waited long enough.”
“Well then, okay.” His hands slide down my body, settling just under my ass, and he lifts me up so my legs can wrap around his waist. At the same time his lips take control of mine.
The heat swarms me, every inch of me on fire as I twist my arms around his neck, holding him against me as he moves us through the apartment towards my bedroom. My body rubs against his and the friction causes sparks to shoot out, igniting me.
We stumble through the door of my room and it thrills me that he is so caught up in the moment that he trips over his own feet. Seconds later I land in my bed with a bounce, laughing as he struggles to get his shirt over his head.
It gets stuck on the hat he apparently forgot he was wearing. He cusses and I laugh as I watch him yank the hat off his head and then reach over and pull his shirt over his head one handed.
The instant his shirt is gone he follows me down to the bed, careful to hold his weight off my body. His eyes haven't left mine since the moment we stepped into the room, other than when he removed his shirt, and I realize that he is nervous.
His hand is trembling slightly as it comes up and brushes down the side of my face. I close my eyes at the contact, savoring the feel of his skin against mine. His fingers brush hesitantly over my skin, they dance down, sliding under the edge of my tank top. But he doesn’t move any further than laying his hands on my stomach.
His kisses are soft and slow. Our tongues dancing sensuously together, as I shift, trying to bring his body closer to mine. I run my hands down the heated skin of his back before sliding them up and around to his stomach. I trace the edges of the muscles defined there and feel them pull and contract under my hands.
His are still lying motionless on my stomach.
He is waiting for me to make the next move; waiting to ensure that I am as ready as I say I am.
I pull away from him, listening to the soft slick sound of our lips pulling apart. His eyes are hooded and heavy when they open to study me. He brings one hand up, his thumb brushing across my wet bottom lip.
“You okay?” His voice is even deeper than normal.
“Are you?”
“I just want to make sure this is what you want, Del, and not what you think I want.”
I shift under him, moving around until I can sit up. His eyes are still on me as I move. Watching him, I reach down to pull my tank top over my head, noting the way his eyes widen, slipping down over the pretty nude colored bra I had put on knowing he would see it, before sliding back up again.
I reach around to unclasp the bra, drawing in one quick breath before sliding the straps down my shoulders, pulling it off and dropping it on the floor. His lips kick up in a smile.
“I guess that shows me.”
The first time our chests touch, skin to skin, I feel the deliciousness of it shiver right down to my very core. It forces a slight gasp to pull from my lips just seconds before his mouth covers mine again.
His hands skim down, dancing hotly over my skin. When they close around my breast, I gasp again, and he captures the sound in his mouth. His lips move, slipping and sliding over my neck as his body shifts down. Moments later his mouth closes over one of my nipples and my back arches off the bed in response.
The heat of his mouth continues to move down, brushing the underside of my breast, skimming down the taunt skin of my stomach, licking right above the band of my jeans.
His tongue continues its assault on my skin as his fingers unsnap my jeans, the sound of the zipper sliding down is drowned out by the moan the escapes me under his ministrations. The denim slides down my legs. Within seconds I’m left only in my underwear and the contrast of jeans against my skin is inexplicably arousing.
I move, shifting so I can run my mouth against the hot skin of his shoulder, but he pulls way. I frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He says with a smile, his lips moving against my skin as he talks. “Let me do this for you.”
He moves down, lips skimming over the delicate skin of my inner thighs, and I instantly feel like I’m going to explode beneath him. He slips his fingers under the lacey edge of my underwear, slipping them down and off to land on the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
His tongue traces circles on the inside of my thigh and my hands fist in the sheets of my bed.
I need him to touch me, and try to shift so that his mouth will cover right where I need it most. But he holds my hips firmly against the mattress, his mouth and tongue teasing as they bath my skin in heat in everywhere but the one place I want them most.
“Cole.” I whimper when his tongue slides deliciously close. “Please.”
“Please what, Delaney?”
Oh, God. Now his fingers join the torture, and they slip through my heat and it feels like magic when they settle against me. He tilts his head enough that our eyes can meet the first time he slips one finger inside of me.
I gasp at the feeling that floods my body, my eyes closing at the multitude of sensations that assault me. My entire body is humming with desire as his finger slides out and then back in again. He finds a rhythm and I find my hips moving to match it, little whimpers escaping as I feel my body starting to gather and tighten.
When his mouth closes over me I nearly come off the bed entirely. It only takes seconds for the flame of desire inside of me to shatter into a tiny thousand pieces, and I call out his name in a ragged whisper.
