I’d laughed at her, but I remembered feeling a distinct ping of truth ricochet off my insides. Her words had struck a chord somewhere deep in me that I forced myself not to overanalyze because it was no longer relevant. I was his, and he was mine.
Being Cole’s girlfriend was fun. I loved it. I hated that it had taken so long for us to get together, but all that drama felt like it was in the distant past even though it wasn’t. We were in such a different place emotionally that it was hard to believe all we’d gone through to get here.
I savored it.
Adored it.
Loved the way it felt to be his and for him to be mine.
Things with Cole were effortless and, dare I say, almost easy. Being together was like snapping two puzzle pieces into place. We fit naturally. I’d had no idea that it could, or would, be this good. He was attentive and thoughtful. He was always texting and calling, and he FaceTimed me every night before bed. Baseball kept him busy, and I understood, making sure to never give him any crap for it. To be fair, I was busy with classes and my side work with The Long Ones and the new restaurant as well.
My mind thought about him as I stepped outside of class and ran straight into a set of rock-hard abs. Cole was standing there, waiting for me, a smirk on his gorgeous face, his baseball hat pulled down low.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said as he reached for me, and I heard harsh whispering mixed with sweet coos from whoever was watching us as we kissed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him even though it was a happy surprise.
Our paths on campus didn’t usually overlap, so we had to make plans to see each other during the days when we could. Right now, outside my class, wasn’t planned.
“My class was canceled, so I thought we could go grab lunch before I headed over to the field,” he suggested, and as if on cue, my stomach growled loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the guy whose hand I was currently holding with the one who had busted my heart open on more than one occasion, bringing me to tears. Cole had worried so much about the kind of boyfriend he would be to me, worried that he wouldn’t do it right or that he’d disappoint me somehow. But he was so exceptional at it that it was hard to imagine how he hadn’t been raised with three sisters or at least a mom who had been present in his life.
“Yes. Feed me,” I agreed with a smile as I dropped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes and started walking across campus, his hand in mine.
I wasn’t oblivious to the stares, but I didn’t give them any extra attention. It seemed almost unbelievable that on a massive college campus, word could spread quickly about someone, but it did. And had it not happened to Cole and me, I probably wouldn’t have believed it or thought the stories were exaggerated somehow. It had only been a little over a week since we went to brunch, but everyone seemed to know that we were officially together. And every one of those people had an opinion about it.
“Hey, Cole,” some girl I didn’t recognize said as she flashed him a smile and fluffed her hair.
I was literally standing right next to him, but she couldn’t have cared less. Cole ignored her.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” I asked in a snotty tone.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he fired back as we continued moving toward the campus commissary.
“Rude,” I teased, and he stopped walking, causing my arm to jerk backward when I continued moving.
“Do you want me to go back?” He thumbed toward the Hair-Fluffer, and I stuck out my tongue at him and called him a brat. He laughed. “Didn’t think so.”
I was hit with a sudden thought, and instead of keeping it to myself, I blurted it out, “Do girls hit on your more or less now that they know about us?”
He glanced at me and gave me that famous panty-dropping smile. “Do you want the truth?”
“Always.”
“More,” he said, sounding bored.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t know why you girls do that kind of shit.”
“Uh, I don’t do that kind of shit,” I said slowly, throwing his words back at him as he gave me an obvious glare.
“I didn’t mean you but your gender.”
I thought about it for a second before realizing that guys had been talking to me far more this week than they ever had before. They hadn’t necessarily been hitting on me, but they had been chattier.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about your gender and how they talk to me more now that we’re together.”
His grip on my hand tightened, and I wondered if he even knew he was doing it. “Talk how? Like, ask you out?”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?” I teased, and he stopped walking again even though we were almost at the doors.
“Christina,” he practically growled.
“Cole,” I growled back.
“Are they asking you out? Hitting on you when they know you’re with me?” He was being serious, and he was actually getting upset.
“No.” I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed his nose. “They’re just friendlier. Talk to me more. They aren’t even flirting, I don’t think. I think they just want to be my friend now that they know I’m yours.”
“We’re not friends,” he bit back as he messed with his hat.
“We most certainly are.”
“I meant,” he stumbled, and it was downright adorable to see this cocky, arrogant guy searching for the right words, “we’re more than friends.”
“I know that. And they all do too. Promise,” I reassured him because I didn’t want him worrying over nothing.
“You’ll tell me if anyone’s inappropriate with you, right?” he asked.
“Um”—I looked around, my eyes hidden by my shades—“I guess? I don’t know. I think I can handle guys talking to me.”
I could tell he didn’t like that answer. His weight shifted, and he pulled his hat clean off his head to run his fingers through his hair. It was something he did whenever he was frustrated.
“It’s not like I expect you to tell me about every girl who hits on you.”
“I will. You want me to?”
“No, I don’t actually,” I said, stunning even myself with that answer. I couldn’t give all the other girls that much control or presence in our relationship; otherwise, they would affect it in a negative way.
“Okay.” He put his hat back on. “Well, if anyone gets out of line or makes you uncomfortable, promise you’ll let me know.” It was his version of offering up a compromise.
“I promise.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him as we started walking again, our steps in time with one another. “I’m not trying to be possessive and crazy, I swear. I just won’t always be here, and I don’t want guys thinking they can do things to you when I’m not around,” he overly explained.
Then, understanding dawned on me.
The team had a road series coming up, and it would be the first time that we’d be apart since officially getting together. Cole was worried. He’d never been in this situation before—leaving a girl at home while he was away for days on end.