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“I’m impressed.” I grin, but a gust of wind whips around us, and my teeth chatter.
“Shit, maybe I didn’t think this through.” Disappointment etches into his expression.
“No, it’s perfect. Just a little cold.”
“Hold that thought.” Cole jumps up and disappears. A minute later, he’s back with a pile of driftwood in his arms. He lies on his stomach next to me, meticulously arranging the branches into a stack. Then he tears off some of the paper towel lining Ellen’s cookie container and sets it alight, piling it underneath the stack of branches.
“Won’t it go out?”
“Patience,” he says, taking a small thin branch and holding it above the flame. It catches fire and he uses it to set a couple of the other sticks alight. When he’s happy with his progress, he rolls onto his back and folds his arms behind his head.
“What other skills are you hiding, Cole Jagger?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smirks, and I roll my eyes. “I come out here sometimes. I found it once when I was driving. It doesn’t get as busy as Sterling Bay.”
“What is this place?”
“I don’t think it has a name. It isn’t part of the Bay but it isn’t the Heights either. At least, I don’t think it is.”
“So it’s No Man’s Land?”
Cole shrugs.
“What was it like?” I ask, lying on my side with my head propped on my fist. “Growing up in the Heights?”
“It was just normal, ya know? I didn’t know any different.”
“Is it really as bad as everyone says?”
Cole’s brow lifts, and I regret how judgmental that sounded. “Sorry, that was—”
“It’s okay. I get it. To everyone else the Heights is this crime ridden cesspit of corruption and drugs, and I guess it is like that. But it isn’t all bad.”
“Even the nice places have their not so nice parts.” I know that all too well.
“Exactly. Something can be good and bad. Take you, for example...” His fingers walk up my stomach, toying with the neckline of my hoodie.
“Cole.” My breath hitches, and he isn’t even touching me, not really.
He curves his hand around my neck, bringing my face down to his. His tongue snakes out, licking the seam of my lips. “Do you want to be bad with me, Dove?”
My fingers twist into his hoodie, but I don’t answer him. Instead, I pour all my feelings into the kiss, letting my tongue tangle with his as we devour one another.
But it isn’t enough for Cole, and he rolls me underneath him, pressing me into the sand. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, surprising me.
My brows furrow. There’s something in his expression, something I can’t quite place. “Say it, Dove,” he growls, letting his lips trail down my jaw and along the curve of my neck.
“Why?” My skin burns for him.
I burn for him.
But I need more.
I need to know this means something to Cole, the way it does to me.
“Because you’re not Hayden’s or Conner’s or any other fucker’s who thinks they can have a taste of you. You’re mine, Little Dove...” The sheer possessiveness in his voice shoots a thrill through me.
“And what about you, Cole?” I lift my chin a little. “Are you mine? Because I don’t like sharing either.”
