“Why are you wet?” I ask crinkling my nose.
“I thought you were going to sneak up on me in the shower,” he says with a fake pout.
I laugh. “Aww, poor baby. Get back in the shower, maybe I’ll make an appearance in a couple of minutes.” He smiles, flashing one dimple and winks at me before turning around—fully aware that I’m gawking him—and lets his towel fall to give me a view of his perfectly sculpted ass. I gasp loudly, which makes him laugh before facing me to show off his very hard—all over—body. I toss the spatula aside, throw off my “While I’m Wearing This: I’m The Boss” apron, and run to jump on him, wrapping my legs around him as he squeezes my bottom and walks us into our room.
That night, Aimee, Aubry, and Mark come over for cake and ice cream. We all settle down around the living room, talking about anything and everything. Cole, Mark and Aubry get into a heated conversation about street lights--yes, really, street lights.
“Why it is that you didn’t go into law school, Cole?” Mark asks with a laugh.
Cole smirks. “Because I don’t like bullshitters.”
I slap Cole playfully on the shoulder. “Hey! I’m not a bullshitter!”
He grabs my hand and pulls me into his lap. “You are, and I love you anyway,” he says before stopping my reply with a searing kiss. I’m breathless when I pull away. “Asshole,” I mutter against his lips before smearing his face with the piece of cake I had left on my plate. We spent the rest of the night throwing cake all over each other. When Aubry shoves a blob of ice cream down the back of my shirt, I decide play time is over. After we clean up and everybody leaves, Cole and I shower and lay in bed grinning at each other.
My heart is overflowing with love for him, for us, for our life together. As I look into his loving green eyes, I think of all the years I’ve known him and all the years that I will continue to know him, and it makes me smile brightly. I am so thankful for him. He’s never given up on me, no matter how crazy and impossible I get. And I do get crazy and impossible—often.
I lean into his face, and just as I’m about to kiss him, I whisper, “I love you, Cole.” He doesn’t return my kiss, and his face is priceless when I back away. He looks at me in awe before leaning up on his forearm to looks at the time.
“Eleven fifty,” he announces when he looks back in to my eyes. “That was the best birthday present I have ever gotten,” he replies, brushing my lips with his. “Say it again,” he murmurs before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and letting go.
“I love you,” I say with a smile.
His eyes are glistening as he positions his body over mine. “I love you, Blake. More than you’ll ever know,” he says softly before he captures my lips in his again.
The next morning, I wake up smiling, until I recall me telling Cole that I loved him. I take a breath and look over, expecting for him to be missing half his face. I literally put my hand over his heart to make sure it’s still beating. Ugh, I am so paranoid. I lie my head over his chest, and wrap my arms around him tightly, as I silently pray that nothing bad happens. During breakfast, he makes me tell him I love him about a hundred times and kisses me each time I say it. Aimee picks me up for school later, and Cole goes off to work. He’s working at a local news station today, talking about whatever sport is on this time of year. Probably baseball—it seems like baseball is always on...or soccer.
The day goes by and that night is similar to the one before—minus the guests and the cake fight. I have never been so happy in my life, and find that I can’t stop smiling. Cole has had the same goofy grin on his face since I told him I love him. It sort of makes me wish I would have said it to him years ago. I’m as superstitious as a baseball player. I roll my eyes as I think that, but it’s true.
A couple of weeks later, Cole mentions that he has to fly out to New York, and will be coming home late because he couldn’t get an earlier flight. We kiss goodbye before he heads to the airport and I get ready for class. Aimee isn’t going to pick me up for today because she has to go to an event with Aubry tonight. We agree to get together at our usual Starbucks for coffee, and walk together from there. I’ve come to love Aimee like a sister, and I’m glad her and Aubry are doing well together. They moved into an apartment nearby ours shortly after we moved. I’m glad they didn’t stay at our old place. After the break-in situation, I’d been wanting us to get out of there.
I feel eyes on me as I walk to Starbucks and it makes me look around anxiously. To my left, I find a man staring at me while he smokes a cigarette. The way he’s leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, like he owns the place, makes me frown. His brown hair is gelled back and he’s wearing black boots, dark jeans, and a black cashmere sweater. He reminds me of a modern-day James Dean, with his rugged good looks. I look away from his intense gaze quickly, because I don’t want him to think I’m interested in him or anything. I can still feel his eyes on my back when I stroll by him.
I continue down two more blocks, shaking away the oddness of that situation, and arrive at Starbucks. Aimee is still not here, so I get our usuals, and grab a table by the window. My heart drops as I’m rummaging through my messenger bag, looking for my phone, and hear a loud machine gun go off. I look around frantically, knocking over my cup of coffee in the process, and spot Derek as he walks behind me. Damn it. Derek is a heavy-set guy in his thirties that comes in here every day, playing his machine gun app as he strolls in and out of the coffee shop. The first time I heard it I cringed and yelped loudly. After the third time, I decided to talk to him. I figure that if he comes in here one day with a real machine gun, he may spare my life for being nice to him. I put my phone on the table and pick up the cup. Thankfully, it was mine and already half empty.
“Hey, Blake,” Derek calls out as he walks by again.
“Hey, Derek,” I smile.
I look back outside and jump in my seat when I see the same guy that was watching me earlier. He’s standing across the street, staring at me, with a cigarette in his hand—again. I feel my knee begin to bounce under the table as I bite my finger nails. Why is he staring at me like that? Is he following me? Where’s Bruce? I look around anxiously for him and spot him on my side of the street. I let out a slight sigh of relief.
Once again, I think of movies-the ones where the unsuspecting girl gets abducted in broad daylight-and I get paranoid. I call Aimee; she tells me she’s almost here, but I quickly tell her to go to school instead. I don’t want her to be spotted with me, just in case. Mark said once that the people involved in mine and Cole’s kidnapping start stripping off your loved ones first, and I can’t let that happen. Aimee is confused but agrees to meet me at school. I don’t know what to do. Should I call the cops or Bruce? What is standard protocol for a situation where a good-looking guy is creeping you the hell out by watching you? That’s all he’s done—watch me—but it’s the way he’s watching me. He’s looking at me like there’s nothing going on around him. This guy could seriously be mental. He could be a killer, or worse, a killer and a rapist. Well, I’m not sure if that’s worse, but right now I can’t think straight. Derek passes by me with his stupid app on full blast, and I jump in my seat again and let out a growl of frustration. Damn it.