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Gathering her in my arms, I roll us, keeping her impaled on my cock as she drapes over me. But when I check to make sure she’s comfortable, I can see the tears starting to fall.
“Janey?” I ask gruffly, not sure what’s wrong but already wanting to fix it.
She smiles through her tears and explains, “I’m so happy.”
The knot in my chest relaxes, and I smile back, telling her, “Me too.”
We lie like that for hours, her head on my chest right over my heart, which beats for her, and my hands tracing over her skin, memorizing every inch. Eventually, she falls asleep in my arms, but I stay awake, listening to her cute little snores.
I’m the luckiest bastard alive. I don’t know how or why Janey was able to see beneath my asshole exterior and find a tiny pocket of goodness deep in my soul, but I’m so fucking glad she did. Only now, with her in my arms and in my life, do I realize what a shell of a man I was. But she’s filled me up with her sunshine and her love.
And I can’t imagine a day without her.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
JANEY
“Five more minutes,”I mumble. My face is smushed into my pillow, and though he’s not in bed with me, I smell Cole’s cologne on the sheets.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I frown with my eyes clenched shut, listening as I process what I’m hearing. The shower is on, so that must be Cole. But that other sound? Still half-asleep, it takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize it’s someone knocking on my front door.
I sit up in bed, grumpy at the too-early intrusion. Everyone knows I like to sleep in on the weekends, and given my weekday early alarms, it’s perfectly reasonable to sleep until nine on the two days a week that I can.
But apparently, not today.
I get up, grabbing my robe and pulling it on as I walk into the living room.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Whoever’s impatiently banging on my door must have a death wish, or a sales quota that they have to meet today. But newsflash, I’m not buying. Unless it’s Girl Scout cookies.
Tying my robe, I open the door. And nearly slam it right back closed. But I’m too late.
“Geez, Janey, I thought I was gonna die of old age out there before you opened the door,” Mom snipes as she walks into my house uninvited.
I’m not ready for this. I’m half-awake, uncaffeinated, and don’t have my guards up. “Well, it’s nine in the morning,” I answer.
“Exactly. The day’s half-gone and you’re being lazy. It looks like you’ve barely gotten out of bed.” Her eyes rove over me, and unconsciously, I run a palm over my head to smooth my hair down. I’m sure it’s frizzy and wild, especially with the way Cole had his hands in it last night.
“I was asleep and not expecting company.”
Mom waves a hand dismissively. “Is that coffee I smell? You should offer guests a drink.” She doesn’t wait for me to do as instructed but rather follows her nose to the kitchen where Cole has apparently already made coffee for us. “Where are your mugs?” she asks, opening and closing cabinets.
I open the cabinet over the coffee maker, because of course, that’s where the mugs are, but opening that one wouldn’t have let her snoop in all the other ones. I take out two mugs and fill them with skinny pours of coffee. Mom won’t need more because she won’t be here that long. Hopefully.
She grabs the milk from the refrigerator, checking the date with a frown on her face, seeming disappointed that it’s fine and not expired. “Are you grocery shopping today? You barely have any food in the fridge.” Yeah, even with relatively fresh milk, there’s still something I’m doing wrong to complain about.
“What do you want, Mom?” I ask curtly. The time for polite manners is long past and this conversation is way overdue.
“That’s no way to speak to your mother,” she replies with a sharp look as she takes a sip of her coffee. Then she peers down into the depths of the mug, sneering like it’s dog water, not freshly-brewed dark roast.
How did I do this for so long? Even her voice sets me on edge, making my flight or fight response kick in. I can feel my heart starting to race and the sleep fog clearing from my brain.
Fine. Let’s do this.
I’m not ready, but in a way, I am.
