laughing, but doesn’t reply.
“It’s mine,” Cole says nonchalantly.
“You’re staying here?” I ask confused. “What’s wrong with your place?”
“You thought that you were going to get rid of me just because you decided you were too good to stay at my place?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Um, no, I never said I was too good for you,” I reply quietly as I wring my hands together.
“You’re right. You told Aubry that you were going to hook up with somebody,” he says looking amused, while I glare at Aubry. “You told me, that you were staying here for Becky and shopping. I don’t care either way. I don’t like being far from the action, and since we’re both here and you need a hook up partner, hey,” he shrugs.
My mouth pops open. I close it. I process his words and start laughing.
“You ...” I say, smiling and shaking my head, “are easily the most controlling person I know, and that’s coming from me,” I joke. He really is controlling. I know why he needs to be in control. Problem is I need to be in as much control as he does. Our past taints us. As much as we try to paint our own canvas, our past is always there, hovering over our lighting.
“I prefer the term planner, but you can use controlling if it makes you feel better,” he says, winking at me before I head back to my room.
Cole steps in as I’m getting into bed and goes straight to the bathroom. I stop leafing through my gardening magazine and look up when he comes back out; he’s dressed only in his boxers. I don’t know how he keeps his body in such great shape, even after he stopped playing football. I bite down on my lip to keep my mouth from opening as he strides over to the bed. His movements flex the perfectly defined muscles on his stomach. He crosses his arms, displaying his bulging biceps and strong forearms.
“I think you may have drooled on yourself,” he says before he darts out his tongue and licks his lips slowly. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of it.
“Says the guy that ran Trevor off when he saw him talking to me?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Talking to you?” he growls. “He was practically eating you with his eyes. What was he telling you when I was in the bathroom? When I came out, he was holding your hand, and you were looking at him all dazed and shit,” he says. His jaw is clenched and his fisted hands are resting on his waist.
I laugh. “Some things never change. I have a boyfriend, remember?” I don’t, but he doesn’t know that—I don’t think. Aubry might have opened his big mouth.
“Do you?” he asks with narrowed eyes, making me squirm.
“Uh ...” I start as I make a mental note to kill Aubry tomorrow morning.
His eyebrows furrow. “Blake?”
“No,” I reply quietly as I draw circles on the comforter with my finger.
“What happened?” he asks, tilting his head.
I shrug one shoulder. “The usual.” He’s not you.
I’ve dated four guys in the past seven years. They’ve all been extended one-night stands. That’s how I define my relationships. I’m still friends with all my ex-boyfriends. I’ve attended two of their weddings, so that should tell you something. I never let them get attached to me, and I don’t attach myself to anyone. I know the underlying problem to all my bullshit excuses is that they’re not Cole. I’ve hoped that if I found someone that I shared a deep connection with, I wouldn’t let them go so easily. Unfortunately, so far, I’ve only shared that deep connection with one person, and that one person is standing in front of me half naked, again. Usually I don’t have a difficult time not getting caught up in Cole’s presence. I just think about our past or the fact that we’re both taken. Tonight, something feels different. I feel different. He feels different. As much as my body yearns for him, though, I refuse to make the first move.
“And he let you go? Just like that?” Cole asks as he sits on the
“It’s mine,” Cole says nonchalantly.
“You’re staying here?” I ask confused. “What’s wrong with your place?”
“You thought that you were going to get rid of me just because you decided you were too good to stay at my place?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Um, no, I never said I was too good for you,” I reply quietly as I wring my hands together.
“You’re right. You told Aubry that you were going to hook up with somebody,” he says looking amused, while I glare at Aubry. “You told me, that you were staying here for Becky and shopping. I don’t care either way. I don’t like being far from the action, and since we’re both here and you need a hook up partner, hey,” he shrugs.
My mouth pops open. I close it. I process his words and start laughing.
“You ...” I say, smiling and shaking my head, “are easily the most controlling person I know, and that’s coming from me,” I joke. He really is controlling. I know why he needs to be in control. Problem is I need to be in as much control as he does. Our past taints us. As much as we try to paint our own canvas, our past is always there, hovering over our lighting.
“I prefer the term planner, but you can use controlling if it makes you feel better,” he says, winking at me before I head back to my room.
Cole steps in as I’m getting into bed and goes straight to the bathroom. I stop leafing through my gardening magazine and look up when he comes back out; he’s dressed only in his boxers. I don’t know how he keeps his body in such great shape, even after he stopped playing football. I bite down on my lip to keep my mouth from opening as he strides over to the bed. His movements flex the perfectly defined muscles on his stomach. He crosses his arms, displaying his bulging biceps and strong forearms.
“I think you may have drooled on yourself,” he says before he darts out his tongue and licks his lips slowly. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of it.
“Says the guy that ran Trevor off when he saw him talking to me?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Talking to you?” he growls. “He was practically eating you with his eyes. What was he telling you when I was in the bathroom? When I came out, he was holding your hand, and you were looking at him all dazed and shit,” he says. His jaw is clenched and his fisted hands are resting on his waist.
I laugh. “Some things never change. I have a boyfriend, remember?” I don’t, but he doesn’t know that—I don’t think. Aubry might have opened his big mouth.
“Do you?” he asks with narrowed eyes, making me squirm.
“Uh ...” I start as I make a mental note to kill Aubry tomorrow morning.
His eyebrows furrow. “Blake?”
“No,” I reply quietly as I draw circles on the comforter with my finger.
“What happened?” he asks, tilting his head.
I shrug one shoulder. “The usual.” He’s not you.
I’ve dated four guys in the past seven years. They’ve all been extended one-night stands. That’s how I define my relationships. I’m still friends with all my ex-boyfriends. I’ve attended two of their weddings, so that should tell you something. I never let them get attached to me, and I don’t attach myself to anyone. I know the underlying problem to all my bullshit excuses is that they’re not Cole. I’ve hoped that if I found someone that I shared a deep connection with, I wouldn’t let them go so easily. Unfortunately, so far, I’ve only shared that deep connection with one person, and that one person is standing in front of me half naked, again. Usually I don’t have a difficult time not getting caught up in Cole’s presence. I just think about our past or the fact that we’re both taken. Tonight, something feels different. I feel different. He feels different. As much as my body yearns for him, though, I refuse to make the first move.
“And he let you go? Just like that?” Cole asks as he sits on the
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