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My eyebrows jump up. “No. I wasn’t planning to go anywhere. If you’ll have me, that is.”
Cole considers me for a moment. Then he walks over to me, setting his coffee cup down on the marble countertop. He draws me into his arms slowly, as if I am a bomb that might go off at any second.
His eyes bore into mine.
“I know I can’t give you anything real. But there is nothing that anybody else can offer you that burns hotter and brighter than my hunger for you.”
It feels like he’s ripped open my chest and exposed my beating heart. I kiss him then, because I have to. It’s as dire and precious a need for me as my next breath.
Cole’s lips taste sweet with a hint of salt, rich with a unique flavor that is all his own. He opens his mouth to me. Our tongues meet. His hands grip my waist. My breath comes out in short pants.
I can’t get enough of Cole Bennett. He’s driving me wild. The sheer ferocity and relentless unfairness of this goddamn kiss make tears prick the corners of my eyes.
Cole pulls back, breathing hard. He leans his forehead against mine.
“Will you be my Valentine’s date this year?” he asks softly.
His words cut me and leave me bleeding. They make my soul restless.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’d do anything you asked me to, Cole.”
“Savannah….” He cups my jaw and kisses my lips. “We should make this date count.”
He feels something for me. I can tell by the way he looks at me. Like he’s trying to etch my face into his memory. I don’t know how to make him say it, though.
All of the words that come to mind are morose and self-pitying. I suck in a breath and lift my chin. I know I’m about to let myself down before I even say a word.
“What should we do?” I ask, my tone chipper.
A fleeting look of surprise bursts over Cole’s face and then disappears.
He purses his lips. “How do you feel about horses?”
“Fine?”
Cole squeezes my fuzzy-robe-covered hips.
“After we have coffee, I’ll take you horseback riding. You brought a pair of tennis shoes, right?”
It’s easy to slide right back into the natural rhythm of banter with Cole. I make a derisive noise.
“Why would I have brought tennis shoes? My instructions were just to pack a bag.”
He feigns surprise.
“But what if the activity that I had you packing for was a ten-kilometer race?”
I cackle with laughter. “I would tell you that you accidentally asked the wrong girl out.”
“That’s too bad.” His eyes sparkle. “I’ll stick with you anyway.”
I kiss him. He deepens the kiss. Our morning is soon occupied with stripping each other’s clothes off and fucking in the sex nook rather than any kind of bothersome emotional conversation.
It’s not perfect. But damn, it feels good.
Do I wish that I had the temerity to tell Cole that I want him to stay? Yes. But I don’t feel like I have the right to tell him what he should be doing with his life. I am starting to feel invisible again, this time to the one person that I thought really sees me.
What am I supposed to do about that?
