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“Oh,” she sighs, but my lips are already on hers, so I swallow the breath and lose all control.
I was right, but also wrong. She’s sweet, maybe even more so than I thought, but she’s also spicy from the jalapeños and her own comfort in her skin. She meets me hungrily, giving as good as she takes, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning into me.
Fuck her right here against the door, my cock suggests, and on some level, I agree. I want to be buried inside her again, feel the pulsing of her orgasm as she’s impaled on my cock, and hear her crying out my name.
But not yet.
We’re starting over in a lot of ways. With some history, yes, but still... this is different, and better.
This is real in a way I’ve never been before with anyone.
So I kiss her with everything I have, trying to say all the things I didn’t tonight—that she’s amazing, that I’m obsessed with her, that nothing scares me but she’s fucking terrifying, that I want to listen to her ramble all day, every day because it’s so damn quiet and lonely without her.
I hope she hears it all, straight from my lips to hers.
CHAPTER18
JANEY
I’ve never beento a meet-the-family dinner, especially not when the family is as large as Cole’s, so I’m not sure what to expect. But I’ve seen enough movies to know one thing...
“Will your mom show me your baby pictures? Like tiny, naked Cole in the bathtub?” I wonder hopefully. “I bet you were so cute and squishable. Probably with big, chubby cheeks and a twinkle in your little eye. Or were you already grumpy and glaring at everyone?”
I clap my hands happily, imagining a baby Cole with his arms crossed over his chest, an old-soul frown on his face, and a judge-y side eye for anyone who dared get close enough to do something annoying like shake a rattle at him.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens, the leather creaking ominously. “No, I burned them all,” he replies brusquely, but I’m at least eighty percent sure he’s kidding. Probably.
He has a sense of humor, it’s just drier than Death Valley in August. But I’m not going to give up. Not when he’s opening up for me and really trying to be more human.
“I bet she’ll tell me some stories, though. Maybe the time you scored the winning goal or were named Prom King? That seems like you.” I grin, now imagining Cole as a teenager. “You were probably the type that all the girls chased after you. Star athlete, Mr. Popularity, straight-As, and a partridge in a pear tree, right?” I guess.
He chuckles hollowly at my description of him. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You know how you wanted your parents to see you, maybe pay some fucking attention for once?” He cuts his eyes to me in the passenger seat of his truck as we speed down the highway.
“Yeah?” That’s sadly true. Seeking attention was a delicate balance because I didn’t want to be a target, but I did want to be considered, loved, and understood. I just wasn’t.
“Well, my goal was to be invisible. Nothing good came out of getting attention in my house. My older brothers—you’ll meet them tonight—clamored for Dad’s approval, even if they had to stand on each other’s necks to get it. Kayla escaped the worst of the mindfuckery and got noticed because she was unique in our dick fest. But me? If Dad forgot I existed, that was for the best. Then, he wouldn’t pressure me to be like him because that was the last thing I wanted. Same held true at school. Didn’t want teachers calling home, for anything good or bad. So, I shot for high Bs and usually got them. I mostly tried to coast, completely unnoticed, through the middle of everything, everywhere I was.”
“Oh.” That’s awful and it makes me angry for him. “I’m sorry. What about your mom?”
He shrugs, focusing on the road again. “She’s great, but she was so busy back then. There’s a lot of unwritten rules in a family like ours, social events you’re expected to attend and roles you have to uphold. And Mom did it all. She ran from fire to fire, keeping all of us in line, Dad included, while simultaneously fundraising for this and coordinating for that. I didn’t want to be a burden, so I stayed out of trouble as far as she knew, and out of the way.”
“They don’t know you at all, do they?” I realize. “Don’t know what a sweet, caring, slightly crazy guy you are?” I sound wistful, but he really is a great man and it’s sad he doesn’t show them that side of himself.
He shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips at the way I’m describing him now. “No, only you know that.”
“Lucky me.” I sigh dreamily, meaning to keep that reaction inside for a change, but my mouth lets it fly free anyway. Cole grins fully then and reaches over to take my hand, places a gentle kiss to the back of it, and rests them on the console between us.
I do feel genuinely fortunate to know the real Cole and can’t imagine how his family has been able to ignore him all these years. I can feel his presence almost before he enters a room, like he’s thinking about me so hard that my Spidey senses know it. His intensity, his focus, his care for what he holds dear is a powerful draw, but according to him, his family somehow doesn’t even notice it. How can that be?
Minutes later, we’re driving down a long street with a tall, wrought iron fence on the right. I’m thinking it’s a nature preserve or something with all the trees until Cole turns into a small drive with a gate. There’s nobody here, but with a push of a button on his steering wheel, the gate starts opening to admit us.
“That’s your house?” I blurt out. That’s rude enough, but of course, I keep going with zero filter. “I have no idea what I was expecting, but it sure wasn’tthat. I mean, you mentioned your family has money, butthis? This isn’t wealthy, it’sRichie Richriiiich.”
As we drive through the gate, I’m looking left and right, craning my neck to see everything. The house is huge, white, with wide stairs going up to the double front door. In the middle of the parking lot out front—yes, I’m calling it alotin my head because once you get past being able to park six or seven cars, calling it a driveway really sounds stupid—is a fountain with a naked guy surrounded by arcing sprays of water.
“It’s home,” Cole says simply. Now I can see how easily he could be invisible here. He could go off to another wing of the house, and nobody would give it—or him—a second thought.
Money doesn’t make the man, of that, I’m sure. But I could compile every penny my whole family’s made in the entirety of their life, and we could maybe pay the electric bill one time for a place like this, so though it’s ‘home’ to Cole, it’s hard for me to not be intimidated by this much flash.
