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“Right,” he nods his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. He mutters something else under his breath as he turns and makes his way out of the kitchen. He’s right though, I do need to take it easy, but there’s also a horrific feeling gnawing away at my insides. I can’t help but wonder if last night’s events have to do with the things I’ve done. If I somehow opened Pandora's box and it’s too late to close it.
I need my computer.
I may need to take the mission impossible antics down a notch while I heal, but I need to keep tabs on these people any way possible.
“Hey boy toy,” I croak out.
“Yeah?” he stops, spinning around to face me.
“Where’s Riot?”
“He uh… had something to do. Had to do with last night I think. I didn’t ask questions.”
“Right,” I nod my head. “Alright, well you want to help? I need to get some shit from my place.”
Cole reaches up and scratches the back of his head, ruffling his already messy sandy blonde hair, “I’m not really sure that’s the best idea.”
“You can take me or I can take myself. You decide which one Riot will react to best.”
Groaning, he runs his hands down his cheeks, “Fine. But we come right back. No detours.”
“Mmfff shit,” I groan in pain as I pull one of Riot’s clean hoodies down over my head.
“Stop, you’re so stubborn,” Cole hisses as he grips the hem of the hooded sweatshirt and slowly lowers it down over my body. My hair is a tousled mess, so he reaches out, sweeping strands of hair from my forehead, and here we go with the fucking confusion again.
I don’t have time for this.
“Come on boy toy,” I grunt like a miserable asshole as I open Riot’s first floor apartment door and step out into the city streets.
You’d think after surviving a near death experience, I’d be chomping at the bit to let down my walls, open myself up, and let myself feel all the feelings. But nope. Not me.
Okay, I mean, maybe I’m ready a little bit. I’m ready to tell Riot how I feel, however I can. And I’m even more open to the idea of sharing him with Cole, but this other shit? These weird feelings I get from Cole… I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him on a chemical level. His presence alone fucks with my body and head, but I cannot wrap my head around that right now. Because yes, life is short, but that also means I have that much less time to find Ellie.
So that’s where my attention needs to be. Fixing this shitstorm that I stirred up and finding Ellie. Maybe then, and only then, can I open myself up to feeling anything for Cole. Right now, I’m barely letting Riot in, and that’s overwhelming enough.
“You know, we could have Ubered,” Cole speaks up, cutting through the voices in my head.
“It’s fine, I’m just another block this way,” I respond, not bothering to turn back and face him. I’m power walking at this point, even though everything hurts. I feel this intense need to put just a little bit of distance between the two of us.
I can’t have him getting the wrong idea.
“Can you just wait up?” he complains as he catches up with me.
“You said we needed to be quick, so I’m being quick,” I snap, and for whatever reason, I glance to the side just as a look of hurt crosses his face. Cole furrows his brows, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I see the shop up ahead and cut him off before he can get a word out.
“This is me,” I mutter, fumbling with my keys as I unlock the doors. Before I pull the doors open, I pause and take a quick look around. Aside from the cars passing by, the cold streets are relatively deserted, but I’ve had this weird feeling most of the walk, like we’re being watched.
I scan the street one more time, but shrug it off when I don’t see anyone. I must be paranoid from the shooting.
“I thought you said you had to stop at your place? But this is your studio…”
“Yeah, I live upstairs. Come on,” I wave him into the studio and pull the door shut, locking it behind him.
Cole spins in circles looking around my studio in awe as I make my way toward the back stairwell. Kind of the same way I once looked around this place, in awe at Rodney’s art. Over the years, the paint has faded and I’ve replaced some pieces with my own work, but tons of Rodney’s designs still litter the walls.
“This is amazing,” he smiles.
“Yep, sure is,” I nod and make my way up the steps. “Let’s go,” I bark.
