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Cole, Page 7

Tijan


  “And pajamas. Nice, big, comfortable pajamas. Nothing tight or constricting.”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

  “Then it’s a best friend, Friday night, slumber party date.” She reached for her purse and raised her hand in the air. “And lunch is on me.”

  “I tried.”

  “What?”

  I motioned. “Lower your hand. It won’t matter.”

  “You asked for the bill?” She scanned the table. “Where is it? You didn’t pay it already, did you?”

  “I asked for it, but the server said it’s on the house.”

  “Are you serious?” She sat back, hitting the back of her seat with a soft bounce. “This place isn’t cheap, and I’ve never had my bill…” A light bulb went on. Her eyes lit up, and she sat upright. “That hostess from the other night! She must’ve recognized our reservation and said something ahead of time. I bet it was her. Man, if it was, I really need to pay her back. I’ll reach out to a designer who’s looking for models, give her name. That was really nice of her.” She was in awe. “I’ve never had a hostess be that nice before. Usually they try to network by offering to work for free at an event or something. Yeah, I’ll make sure to get her a job because of this.”

  I reached for my own purse. “Mystery solved.”

  Once we stepped out onto the street, Sia linked her elbow with mine and pulled me close to her side. We walked that way, like we had the other night, back to my building. She only had another block to go for her job, and we paused outside the front entrance. “Next lunch is just the two of us. I promise. Wait. Was there something you wanted to talk about today?”

  An image of Cole appeared in my mind—my seared memory of him in the elevator, watching me as the doors closed. The blood on the floor from his comrade. Him running. Him waiting for me as I finished my last lap. “I’m Cole.”

  My fingers closed over her hand, and I cleared my throat. “Nope. Nothing.”

  “You sure?”

  “I wanted to hear about you and Jake, but I got one better. I saw it first hand, like a private Broadway show.”

  She groaned. “Again. I am so sorry.”

  “I know. I’m just torturing you now.”

  “Okay.” She twisted around, peering up at my floor. “So, if I don’t talk to you all week, plan for Friday. It’s a definite for me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Today’s Friday.”

  “Wha—” Her mouth opened and stayed there. The wheels were turning in her head. Then she smacked herself in the forehead. “I meant next Friday, and holy shit! I’m insinuating I won’t be around all weekend too. I am so—”

  Our arms were still linked. I unlinked them, but pressed both my hands over her arms. “Stop. I know how you are with your guys.”

  Her eyes closed tight, but she opened one. “Really?”

  I nodded. “I’m an adult. I’m thirty years old. I can manage just fine. Heck—” I tried for a joke. “Maybe Dawn and I will meet up for drinks tonight.”

  Sia laughed, relaxing. “You can take up knitting.”

  “I’ll be her real knitting soulmate, not a pretend one like you.”

  “Don’t tell her my lie,” Sia whispered.

  “I won’t.” I shoved her forward, gently. “Now go. Have fun. Have lots of sex, and if we don’t talk before next Friday, I’ll meet you at my door. I’ll be the one wearing pajamas already.”

  “Okay.” She moved forward, reluctantly, then turned around. She pointed at me. “Slumber party.”

  I yelled as she was swallowed up by the crowd, “Friday night!”

  Her eyes widened—

  “Next Friday night,” I clarified.

  She was still pointing at me, but switched to give me a thumbs-up instead.

  My weekend came and went. It was fine. I found a bookstore and spent Sunday there, curled up with a book in one of the chairs. The next week passed just as uneventfully. Every morning, I looked at the clock. Cole was on my mind. I could’ve gone to run with him, but I never went. I was a chicken shit, but then one day I wasn’t. I actually stood. My mind was made up. My chest tightened, and butterflies whipped around in me as I grabbed my sneakers and dressed. I had my headphones in hand and got to the elevator, only to not push the button.

  I couldn’t do it.

  I was too nervous.

  I hadn’t heard from Sia since yesterday, and today was slumber party day, but I hadn’t expected to. She had an event at the Gala last night. I loaded up on wine, and got tequila for her. Promising a slumber party was one thing, but actually following through was another. If the situation were reversed, I’d have a hard time staying four floors under the new man in my life. I figured she’d spend the evening with me, maybe even stay late, but once the tequila was in full effect, she’d sneak up to his floor. I planned to let her know she didn’t need to sneak.

  Seven o’clock rolled around, and she sent no word. I texted, asking if she was running late.

  Eight o’clock.

  Nine o’clock.

  She should’ve called me by now.

  I waited till nine thirty, then checked my phone. No text. No call. No email. I got on Instagram and went to her page. There it was: a selfie of her and Jake wearing Hawks jerseys. They were at the hockey game.

  I’d been stood up.

  Maybe my subconscious took me there.

  Maybe I needed to run off some steam. Maybe I needed to get out of my apartment… I couldn’t think of any other reasons, so maybe, just maybe I went to the running track looking for Cole. There. I admitted it. My friend stood me up for a boyfriend, and I went in search of the man I’d been too much of a coward to seek out all week.

  I pushed through the door and jogged a few feet before stopping. Then I just stood there. I wasn’t dressed for running. I was barely dressed for anything. Pajamas. A white tank top over short sleeping shorts. Thank God, I’d grabbed a robe. I was dressed and ready for what was supposed to have been my night.

  I knew he wasn’t here. It was foolish to think he would be. He ran in the mornings. He told me himself. And it was Friday, almost ten at night.

  A bitter laugh escaped me, sending a puff of white breath into the air. It was chillier than usual in here. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold now, and I turned around to head back.

  “It’s Friday night.” His voice stopped me. He stood right inside the door, and his eyes raked over me. “And you’re wearing panda pajamas.” He shook his head, his dark eyes twinkling. “You know, sometimes I wonder how smart I am, but I’m deducing you didn’t come in here to work out.”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just stared at him, taking him all in. He wore nice, custom-tailored-looking jeans and a black shirt under a black leather jacket. He was beautiful in his rich, bad-boy way.

  “You’re going out.” My hand lifted toward him, then fell back at my side.

  I cursed myself. Even now, even knowing what I was getting myself into when I came down here, I was still reduced to a teenager. I felt a blush in my cheeks, like I always had when I talked to a crush. I swallowed and forced out a quiet sigh. I really did need to get a handle on my hormones. They were too old for this ridiculousness.

  He chuckled and shoved his hands into the leather jacket’s pockets, pulling it tighter against his shoulders. My mouth watered.

  “Unlike you, who must have fun plans this evening, I promised a friend I’d check in on his restaurant. He’s out of town and just recently bought it.” His eyes narrowed, and his head cocked to the side. “Are you going to bed like that, or are you going to a pajama party somewhere?”

  My blush was at full force. I felt it creeping down my neck. “Neither. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I thought a friend was down here.”

  “Friend?” He pointed to himself, stepping forward. “Me?”

  “No. I—” This was stupid. “Yes. You.”

  A smirk showed on his face, and he took
another step closer. “Well, isn’t this a coincidence then?”

  “You’re gloating.”

  He laughed. “Of course I am. You avoided me for an entire week.”

  “I did not.”

  “Really?” He stopped, standing so close now, and I looked up at him. His eyes stared right down into mine, and I could’ve touched him. All I had to do was reach out. Hell, I could’ve pretended to trip, and he would’ve caught me. I didn’t know this man, but I knew he would do that. I could fall, and he would keep me steady.

  I wanted his touch, yearned for it.

  “So, what’ll it be?” he asked, his gaze falling to my lips.

  I coughed, unable to talk at first. “What do you mean?” I bit my bottom lip. My knees were growing weak.

  “I’d like someone to go to this restaurant with me. You must’ve sensed my dire need. I mean…” He gestured down the running lanes. “You came here looking for me. I think it’s destiny. You’re supposed to keep me company so I don’t die of boredom tonight.”

  “Ha!” I was grinning now. My cheeks hurt from how much I was grinning. “You think I sensed that you needed a sidekick tonight, and the gods sent me for you?”

  “No.” He reached out and touched one of the pandas on my pajamas, right where my tank top rested over my shorts. The material lifted, and I felt the heat of his hand there, right on my stomach. “Just the panda gods. They must’ve heard my prayer.”

  My head tipped back. “You’re funny.” God, his hand felt good there.

  His eyes darkened, and the smirk lingered. “I have lots of talents, but I mean it. I’d love a date for this restaurant tonight.”

  I stopped laughing. I got his message. He wasn’t interested in a friend, a sidekick, or a companion. He wanted a date. My body reacted to his straightforwardness, and for a moment, I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  Clearing my throat, I pulled my eyes away. “Uh.”

  “It’s Friday night.” He was still touching one of the pandas on my pajamas. His hand was against my stomach, and he pulled me closer to him. The cloth felt like nothing now. There was no barrier between us, and I looked down, unable to tear my eyes away from his hand. “I’d like you to have dinner with me.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with his other hand.

  When I looked up, his hand fell away, but he still held on to me. He was bold, and I didn’t want his hand to move. I heard myself saying, “I need to change.”

  He nodded. “Meet me in the lobby. One hour?”

  My head moved up and down, and then I pulled away and went around him. Every part of my body was aware of him. Like it wasn’t just mine anymore, it was a part of him. With each step I took, I sensed who I was leaving behind.

  This wasn’t normal. This didn’t happen in real life. It took months before I’d felt this burn for Liam. With Cole it was the second time we talked, and the fourth time I’d seen him.

  Everything melted inside me, and I had no idea what I’d picked to wear until I was stepping back into the elevator and hitting the lobby button. I glanced down, and my hand went to my hair. I’d put on an outfit Sia once chose for me. She’d laid it out on my dresser, saying I needed to dress sexier, and it had stayed there for two weeks. I looked in the mirrored wall to see my hair. It was pulled up in a messy braid, similar to last Friday’s lunch. Sia would’ve approved.

  The elevator came to a stop, lurching in sync with my stomach.

  A date—I wasn’t ready.

  I reached inside my purse and found my wedding ring. I didn’t put it on, but I held it. Some of the nerves calmed inside. Then the doors slid open, and I looked up.

  It wasn’t how good Cole looked that gave me pause. It was the look in his eyes when he saw me. It’d been so long since a man looked at me like that, like I was breathtaking to him, like he wanted to protect me, take me to bed, and laugh all night, all at the same time. I felt beautiful as Cole took in the sight of me. The feeling washed over me. I blinked back a tear, held my breath.

  Liam… I missed him with an impossible heaviness.

  Then I could hear him whispering, “Whatever this guy’s going to say, I agree. You look stunning, Addison.” He would’ve leaned in to kiss me. “I love you. Live your happy, Addy.”

  It felt so real—feeling him, hearing him. Live your happy.

  The heaviness lifted, and I stepped from the elevator, my head high as I walked toward Cole.

  He drank me in. “You look beautiful.”

  It was a simple dress, a simple sweater, but with the black boots Sia had picked, and I knew my getup made me look sexy, too. Thank you, Sia, I thought as Cole held out his hand for me and I took it, feeling his fingers close around mine.

  Ken was waiting by the door. He held it open for us, pushing out toward the street. He nodded as we passed. “Have a fun evening, Mr.—”

  Cole shot him a look.

  “Cole and Miss Addison,” he finished.

  I turned to give him a reproach for the ‘Miss’ part, but Cole led me quickly around a black SUV and opened the passenger door. I got inside and waited until he’d rounded the back to get in the driver’s seat.

  “You drive yourself?”

  He started the engine. “Hell yeah, I do. You didn’t think I would?” He turned into traffic, and his wolfish grin showed me another side of this mystery man. He loved driving. No, it was more than that, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

  “For some reason I thought you’d have a driver.”

  “Ah.” His hand moved over the steering wheel. He leaned back, keeping one hand there and resting the other on the stick shift. “You’re right. I normally would have a driver, but this week has been my vacation from regular life. That means no driver. I get to do it myself. And driving a stick shift—” He changed gears. “—is a rush all its own.”

  He was dangerous. He was strong. And now, he loved adrenaline. Cole was everything Liam hadn’t been. “You like the rush,” I mused.

  He moved between cars and glanced over at me.

  “Is that in all aspects of life?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t reply. I saw the corner of his mouth lift up. Then we switched lanes again and came to an intersection. The faint grin was gone by then, and he turned onto another road before sliding to a halt in front of a brick building. He unclipped his seat belt. He didn’t get out, not even when the valet opened his door. He watched me. “Does that unnerve you? The rush?”

  My mouth dried. “Maybe in some aspects of life.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Like the bedroom?”

  My eyes widened. “You were bold when you said this was a date, and now you’re bringing up the bedroom? Maybe you get a rush from making women uncomfortable?”

  He was too close, too soon. I’d lashed out, and I regretted it, but I wasn’t used to this. Cole was honest, but maybe too honest? That didn’t sit right with me.

  He didn’t reply, not at first. He continued to watch me, studying me, then he said, softly, “I don’t enjoy making women uncomfortable, but I also know you’re not uncomfortable. I enjoy being honest, so here’s my honesty right now.” He paused, making sure I looked right back at him. “I’m not interested in being your friend.”

  O—Oh!

  My pulse sped up, faster than it already was, and his gaze lingered a moment longer before he got out of the car. A second valet driver opened my door. I couldn’t move, not at first. I didn’t think my legs could hold me. When I did, Cole was waiting for me, and I rested my hand on his arm. He steadied me, and my God, I hated that while I liked it so much.

  I was a mess inside, but it was a good mess.

  The restaurant’s inside was dark with minimal lighting. Candles rested on the window frames and the front desk. A hostess stood behind it, and as we came inside, she came out from behind. She was tiny and beautiful: Dark eyes. Dark hair. A rack most guys would love, and she folded her hands in front of her tight-buttoned shirt and skirt. “Mr.—”

 
“Cole.”

  She blinked once. “Cole. It’s wonderful to have you tonight.