The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3)

by Blair Holden

  Think, Tessa, think.

  Leila stands there, a smirk playing on her lips. “So, let’s get to work, shall we?”

  Maybe not so fast, desperate times call for maxing out your dad’s credit card.

  “So Leila, how do you feel about a trip to Nordstrom?”

  Chapter Six: I’ll Time Our Liaison for High Impact and Zero Public Indecency

  I leave Leila in her happy place, also known as the fashion hall at Nordstrom, with the instructions that she’s allowed to pick her favorite pieces as long as it does not cause my father to collapse on the floor when he receives the monthly credit card bill. I’m a good daughter, I like to support myself and don’t depend too much on my parents.

  Sometimes, though, times such as this when you’ve got to physically bribe someone into letting you go see your boyfriend, I’m happy that I come from money.

  I check in with Megan and Alex, who let me know that Cole has since gone back home since he couldn’t get in touch with me. Megan’s assured him that I’m very much alive, just zonked out on a couple of sleeping pills that I took. She tried to sell it a little more, like I’d taken a day off of work because I’d been so, so utterly tired, and I think Cole’s beginning to suspect that I’m on my deathbed, given how dramatic Megan got.

  That girl, there’s been a thespian hidden inside her all this time.

  I jump in an Uber, grabbing my own bags from Nordstrom, and give the driver direction to Cole’s apartment. I may or may not have splurged on a little La Perla, and Leila definitely got a clue that the person I’d been dying to go see wasn’t just a friend.

  “You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried,” she told me as she tried on a very expensive Chloe coat. Honestly, H&M have the same exact thing for a quarter of the price.

  I hope my dad’s in a good mood when he gets the bill.

  “About what?” I’d asked her as I checked out some very fancy, lacy things.

  “You have a photograph with him as your phone’s background. You’ve worn a University of Chicago Law School sweatshirt to work multiple time on casual Fridays, mistakenly assuming that it flatters your figure at all, and you giggle far too much when you FaceTime with him during lunch. So, it doesn’t really take a genius to figure out that your boyfriend lives here and that you’re tripping all over yourself to get to him.

  “If you know all this, then is there a particular reason why you’ve made me work so hard to get to him?”

  She smirks and holds up a BCBG dress in front of her, turning to the mirror. “Just having a little fun, Tessa, lighten up.”

  If I could choke her using the overpriced clothes in this place, I would.

  ***

  Now I’m still in the back of this Uber, going through Cole’s texts with an increasing amount of guilt. Gosh, he’s been so worried, and I’ve wasted so much time with Leila. I’m not even sure if he’ll be home now or on campus. Regardless, I’ve got the supplies to make this the most romantic reunion ever and yes, I will have to run back to the event tonight but, gosh, after all this hassle I’m finally going to see him.

  The driver must think I’m a really rude customer since I all but jump out of the Uber when he stops in front of Cole’s apartment complex, but I make sure to tip him well. I haven’t been to this place before but have heard enough about it and done the occasional Google search to know what to expect. Cole had been offered the chance to live somewhere that’s a little fancier, but I can understand why he wants to save, and the more I see of students running about with their backpacks and law textbooks, the more I realize that Cole is in his element, with people very much like him.

  Unlike me, who’s living in a building where the person closest in age to me must be thirty-five.

  Grabbing my shopping bags, I make my way to the lakefront park apartments that sprawl across what looks like one hundred acres along the south lakefront. It’s an awesome location near Lake Shore Drive and just minutes from downtown. It’s crowded and popular and Cole seems to have fit right in while I’m still trying to make eye contact with my doorman. Trying not to let the negative thoughts crowd my head, I make my way into the lobby only to be deterred by the fact that I don’t have any way to get into Cole’s studio apartment. I check with the receptionist just to make sure that I’ve not been put on any list and of course I haven’t; Cole and I hadn’t discussed when I would visit and it may have escaped his mind.

  I could wait in the lobby, but I really want to surprise him and get the place ready before he comes back. The receptionist gives me a sympathetic look because of course I look like a sad little girlfriend who’s come to surprise her boyfriend and not your garden-variety psychotic stalker.

  “You’re Mr. Stone’s girlfriend?” he asks and I nod, ready to pull out my phone and show him the infamous screensaver as proof.

  “Well, I’m sorry I can’t allow you to go up without permission but…” he whispers conspiringly, “you see that woman over there?” He gestures to a brunette standing by the elevators, tapping her foot impatiently, looking extremely stressed.

  “Yes?”

  “She’s his neighbor. If you talk to her, she could let you up. You need authorization to go above the first floor.”

  “Oh.”

  I look at the girl again, at Cole’s neighbor, now in a different light. She appears to be in her late twenties, petite with a curvy body that’s outlined by a red shift dress. Her dark hair is twisted into an elegant twist, and a pair of pumps gives her a very put-together look. But at the moment she looks like she’s not very happy with whomever she’s on the phone with, and I’m not sure if I want to interrupt her.

  But I look down at my recent purchases and at her again; this could be my last shot.

  “So,” I ask Bill the receptionist, “what’s her name?”

  ***

  I approach Melissa a little gingerly, thanking my lucky stars that the elevator hasn’t arrived. She’s put down the phone now but looks close to tears as I approach her.

  “Excuse me,” I say and she whips her head up, quickly wiping away her tears.

  Oh God, perfect timing, Tessa.

  “I-I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “Not at all,” she gives me a weak smile, “um, do I know you? You look oddly familiar.” She stares at me as though trying to remember.

  “I don’t think so. But I think you might know my boyfriend, Cole Stone?”

  “Oh,” it looks as though understanding dawns on her, “now I know! He has pictures of you scattered all around his place.” She beams. “Wow, does he know you’re here? I think he was going to the airport this morning.”

  Uh, wow. Cole sure has friendly neighbors; she seems to not only know who I am as well as the layout of Cole’s apartment but also knows his schedule.

  I hear some alarm bells going off in my head but that could have something to do with the fact that she’s beautiful. Tan, flawless skin; hazel, doe-shaped eyes; and thick lashes make her look like some kind of doll.

  Cole does have a thing for those innocent-looking types.

  “I-I’m planning on surprising him, actually. That was why I was wondering if you could let me up?”

  “Oh, a surprise!” she exclaims, looking oddly excited by the idea. “He would love that!”

  Yes, I know, I’m his girlfriend. I think that, but of course don’t say it to my only shot of finally making it to Cole’s place.

  “Of course, come with me.” All signs of previous stress now gone, she happily helps me and my numerous shopping bags up to her and Cole’s floor. Once there, I’m about to ask her if she knows a way I can actually unlock Cole’s door when she brandishes a key from under her own mat.

  “He gave me a spare, in case he lost his own copy,” she explains as she opens the door to my boyfriend’s apartment.

  “Right,” I say, feeling a little excluded and uncomfortable.

  “Well,” Melissa says awkwardly, “hope the two of you have a nice day.” She attem
pts to wink but given her blotchy nose and bloodshot eyes, it doesn’t really translate well, making things even more awkward.

  “We will, thanks.”

  And she leaves, waving at me as she retreats into her own apartment just across from Cole’s.

  Oh boy, this is going to be fun.

  I push the weird-yet-gorgeous neighbor out of my head while I get to work. I don’t even take the time to register Cole’s minimally decorated and modern-looking studio apartment and head straight for the shower like a woman on a mission. I spend ten minutes freshening up before changing into my very expensive and frivolous purchase from La Perla. Over the top, I put on a cute-but-sexy, black-and-nude, off-the-shoulder dress and pair it with my favorite pair of heels.

  There aren’t any hair styling tools around, so I settle for air drying my hair, after brushing out the knots, and steal some of Cole’s hair gel to make sure that I’m not a frizzy mess. Throwing on the makeup I have in my bag, I keep an eye on the clock. I know Cole’s schedule, it’s Wednesday today and if he did go to school, he should be coming back in half an hour. Once he’s back, we have a solid three hours before I’m due back for our event tonight. The dress will work for the evening and I think my hair’s fine, so I’ll just need to touch up my makeup and hopefully that way I won’t have to leave Cole any sooner than I have to.

  See? I’ve got it all under control and this is going to be perfect.

  Famous last words, Tessa.

  ***

  I order an Italian feast from a restaurant that comes highly rated on Yelp. While I’m waiting for the delivery, I take the time to finally survey Cole’s apartment. It’s a studio, so it’s all open plan, with the kitchen opening up to the living room, which also houses Cole’s bed and side tables. It’s wide and spacious, large airy windows letting enough light in, making the place seem bigger than it is. He hasn’t invested a lot of time into the decoration, though, and I need to remedy that. Maybe one of these days I can take him to IKEA and actually furnish the place before it starts looking more clinical than it already does.

  “Okay, I’m dressed, the food’s on its way, I have his present on the table. What else, what else?” I wonder at the same time that I hear the lock turn and the door open. I feel the urge to hide like a child behind the couch and jump out with a, ‘Boo!” when he walks in. That’d be pretty sexy, right?

  I panic and crouch down next to his bed, figuring that’ll allow me some time before he walks in. I haven’t replied to any of the texts he sent me this morning and I’m guessing he’s a little mad at me. So I plan my speech, my grand gesture, in my mind before surprising him. But then he’s the one who ends up surprising me. I hear his footsteps, but I hear someone else’s too, softer, quieter ones.

  “You want me to make you a sandwich?”

  My heart soars when I hear his voice and I realize that it hasn’t hit me as much as it does now that I’ve missed him so, so much.

  “Peanut butter and jelly, please.”

  It’s a little girl who answers him back, I’m sure of it, and I’m just more confused. I lift my head but neither Cole nor his guest are in my line of vision, so I crawl forward to try to get a better look.

  “You got it; make sure you go tell your mom that we’re back and then come right back.”

  “Okay, Cole,” the child’s voice rings sweetly across the space before I hear her leave.

  Okay, so in his free time Cole babysits the neighbor’s children? This is the first that I’m hearing about it. As I ponder this, I also realize how stupid I’m being by hiding like this and that all my bags are out in the open, so Cole will probably be seeing them any second now. I get up, straighten my dress, give my hair some bounce with my hands, and am about to strut my stuff to Cole when my heel slips on the floor and I find myself falling. Ouch, that is surely going to hurt. I try to right myself but it’s too late and I take a hard tumble to the ground, landing on my butt with legs flailing around me.

  It’s then that I register a kid’s shouting.

  “Cole, there’s a strange lady in your house!”

  That would be me.

  ***

  I find myself face to face with what looks like a preschooler with big, bouncy curls that are giving me a lot of Taylor Swift vibes. She’s peering at me intently as I lie on the floor, unable to move owing to the pain in my lower back.

  The fall hurt.

  “Who are you?” She comes right up to me and examines me carefully.

  “I’m—”

  “Tessa?”

  “That would be me.” I manage to sit upright and wave at a very shocked and dumbstruck Cole. He’s got a juice box in his hand that falls to the ground and splatters everywhere. The little girl looks from me to Cole and then back again.

  “You made a mess!” she shouts again; somebody needs to teach the kid how to use her quiet voice.

  “Uh,” Cole doesn’t take his eyes off of me, “Lainey, why don’t you go watch some cartoons? I’ve set up the TV for you.”

  It’s as if TV is the magic word that makes her forget all about the weird lady that’s sprawled in the middle of the living room. She leaves me lying there with a chirpy, “okay,” before bounding toward the couch.

  “So,” I say rubbing my poor, sore back. “Surprise?”

  That seems to wake him up from whatever trance he’s in because Cole springs into action in the very next second. “Oh My God, what are you doing here?” He helps to my feet after taking my heels, aka the death traps, off. Supporting my weight, he gently places me on his bed, away from the child currently glued to the television.

  “Are you okay?” He crouches down in front of me and begins massaging my calves.

  “That wasn’t my finest moment.” I laugh. It’s funnier because in my head I’d pictured an extremely different reunion, more romantic, less ridiculous. Of course I could only achieve that feat were I not on a first-name basis with the ground.

  He looks at me still a little dazed. “I just…wow. I had absolutely no idea…how did you…Megan told me you were sick.”

  I shrug. “You’re not the only one who can pull off a surprise. Although, I’ll give you this, you’re a lot smoother about it.”

  He laughs, a joyous, happy laugh before he joins me on the bed and pulls me toward him.

  “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to kiss you.”

  “Me neither, you’re losing your touch in your old age, Stone,” I tease, only to be silenced by a long, drugging, deep kiss that’s in no way, shape, or form a slow burn one. We don’t start out softly, with gentle kisses and hesitant touches. No, we go right for it because there’s too much yearning behind this moment, too much longing and not enough time together. Our hands are everywhere, the urge to touch every inch of his skin fueling my fingers to tug at the hem of his shirt, attacking the buttons. I want it off, I want to feel his skin against mine. He seems to have a similar idea, his fingers exploring beneath the hem of my dress as he tugs it up, over my knees, past my thighs, even as his tongue urgently battles with mine. His fingers move higher, pulling my dress along with them, until they’re right there.

  “Coleeee, the TV stopped working!”

  We pull away gasping.

  “Oh God,” I slap a hand over my mouth, “we did not just start taking our clothes off with a five-year-old in the room.”

  I bury my head in Cole shoulder as he groans and curses under his breath. I laugh almost hysterically and fall back into his bed as he grudgingly gets up to attend to his charge.

  “Don’t you dare move,” he hisses, unbuttoning his shirt and quickly adjusting himself. His discomfort makes me howl with laughter until I’m actually wiping tears off my face. I’m not quite sure whether I’m happy crying or sad crying right now, but this is just the most awfully hilarious thing to happen to the two of us right now.

  He leaves and I eye my watch. Time’s rushing by, I need to be back at the hotel before Amy starts blowing up my phone. Letting out a frustrated
breath, I close my eyes and listen to Cole and the little girl, Lainey, move about the studio.

  “Hey Lainey, let’s go check up on your mom, okay?”

  “She said I’m going to be staying here until it’s six o’clock.”

  I picture her little, round face looking at the clock and noticing that it’s not quite six yet.

  “We’re just going to go next door and see if she can take you to the park a little early today, that’s all.”

  I laugh at how patient and sweet he’s trying to be. Well, as sweet as you can be when you’re trying to get rid of a sweet little girl just so that you can get your girlfriend naked.

  Hey, I never said that he’s a saint.

  “Okay!” she chirps and I hear them leaving.

  Hmm, I wonder whose kid she is and why she’s so comfortable around Cole. He’s never mentioned her during one of our calls, but it appears as though he’s been hanging around her for a while, which is odd. I ponder this as I get out of bed, straighten my clothes, and limp my way back into the living room, my butt still recovering and probably bruised from the nasty fall.

  A half-eaten PB&J sandwich lies on the coffee table in front of the TV as well as a juice box. There’s a cartoon on the screen and a child’s backpack flung next to it. Well, this gets weirder by the minute. I’m wondering why Cole hasn’t told me about his secret life as a nanny when the bell rings and I realize it’s probably our food.

  Maybe Cole and I need a nice romantic meal to sort ourselves out.

  I go out to pay the delivery boy, and it’s as I’m doing this and getting the food that I see Cole, Lainey, and Melissa, the woman who let me up, all standing in front of her apartment door laughing like they’re one big happy family. I squint, just to make sure I’m not seeing things, and sure enough, Cole’s holding the little girl’s hand while her mom is beaming at the two of them.

  I pay for our food and take the boxes inside, closing the door firmly behind me before it gets any weirder. I plate up Cole’s favorite pizza and pasta dishes, as well as the salad and grab us some drinks from his fridge, which I now notice also contains a twelve-pack of children’s juice boxes.