I need to talk to Cole. Not because seeing him with Stone makes me want to tear the earth in half, but because he’s in danger. The kind that doesn’t stop at a bruised ego. JJ and Ronnie talk about him too much, joke too crudely, and I’ve seen enough to know where that can lead.
How “a warning” can turn into weeks in the hospital.
That’s not going to be Cole. I won’t let it.
I need him to understand this isn’t about us now. It’s about protecting him.
And if I have to make him hate me to keep him safe, then fine. I’ve lived with worse.
COLE
“Do ants plan pavement domination or just them worms?” Noah asks, playing with his Lego figures instead of eating breakfast.
“Better ask Earl,” I say, pouring myself more coffee. “And you’d better finish your cereal. I know you don’t want to be late for Juniper’s story hour. Tuesdays are for Thrilling Tales, remember?”
“I can’t eat without T-Rex,” he whines. “He got left in the car.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Tell you what. I bet you can’t eat five spoonfuls before I’m back with your dino buddy.”
“I can eat at least seven!” Noah declares hotly, like I knew he would.
“Let’s see. I’m pretty fast,” I say, making a dramatic sprint toward the front door. He giggles and starts eating his cereal with admirable efficiency for someone who just said he can’t eat at all.
I fish the plastic dinosaur from under the passenger seat and slam the door shut. I turn around, only to find Xaden standing right in front of me.
My heart stutters like a traitor.
Xaden in running gear looks like a god of sport. He’s sweaty, obviously, so his hair is damp and messy. He’s wearing shorts and a running tank, which means that his muscles are right there.
I mean, the biceps and the forearms and everything.
I can almost hear the swoosh of my legs turning to jelly.
He shifts his weight, close enough that I catch the faint clean smell of soap mixed with sweat. I’m ambushed by sensory memory — how he used to smell when I leaned into him, how I always felt steadier and safer when I did.
Realizing I have been staring at his chest for a minute or so, I avert my gaze, but not before my brain registers the new tattoos circling his arms.
I swallow. I still remember the first one he ever got — the constellation. Because our first date was under a starry night sky, and Xaden’s romantic like that. Used to be, at least.
Cole, you’re an adult and a parent. Get a grip.
But when averting my gaze makes me accidentally look straight into his dark eyes I totally fail to get a grip. There’s something hot and unguarded flickering there, gone before I can name it, but enough to make my pulse quicken. He looks almost amused, as if he knows exactly what I was thinking about.
Mustering all my dignity, I hold onto Noah’s T-Rex and wait for Xaden to say whatever he came to say.
I hope it’s an apology.Spoiler alert: it’s not an apology.
“Look, those guys you saw me with? They’re bad news,” he says in his new, deeper voice. God, he sounded hot enough in school so why does he have to torture me with the kind of macho rasp that makes me want to close the space between us and… well, I could start with tasting his lips. I miss his lips.
But I go with sarcasm instead: “Oh no, and I was just about to invite them over for tea,” I say.
Xaden exhales in a long-suffering manner. I glare. His right to blow frustrated air in my vicinity has long since expired.
“Cole, this isn’t a joke,” he says tightly.
“Wasn’t laughing,” I say in exactly the same tone. I’ve learned a few tricks from Noah, and it turns out I’m not above using them on Xaden.
He sighs again, raking his fingers through his damp hair like he used to do when he was nervous. It makes his hair look even more devastating. I used to love touching it. Just like he loved touching mine.
