We don’t go home right away.
Instead, Cole says we have to eat. When Derek showed because I might have forgotten to text him, Cole told him to find a way to drive my car back as I was going with him.
All the way, he’s been trying to finger me under my skirt because I stole my underwear from his trousers when we changed back. I’ve been slapping his hand away, to no avail.
But that’s the thing about Cole. He never gives up. If he wants something, he doesn’t stop.
Not even close.
We end up at a secluded restaurant that’s not on the main street. It’s like he knows all the hidden areas, which shouldn’t be a surprise, considering the secret life he’s leading through that club.
My core still tingles in remembrance of that couple, of their ecstasy — and mine.
It’s an experience I’ll never be able to forget. I never knew I liked voyeurism until I came undone around Cole’s fingers. He’s slowly but surely ruining me.
The restaurant is Italian and has wooden decor with tables and chairs in the shape of trees. We settle across from each other and order wood-fired pizza. I placed an extra order of French fries with mayonnaise.
If I’m getting in the calories, might as well go all in. I’m too hungry after that experience in the club and I can’t trick my stomach into accepting salad.
“We could’ve eaten at home.” I study my French-manicured nails to not look at Cole.
Even though he’s reading from a book, he’s also been watching me in this intense way that turns me into a self-conscious fool. I’m not the type to get self-conscious. Ever.
Except when this wanker is involved.
“I’m hungry.” His voice drops with clear seduction.
“Well, you could’ve eaten at home.”
“I can’t wait until home.”
“Stop it,” I hiss, watching our surroundings. Thankfully, the place isn’t full at this time.
“Stop what? I’m only saying I’m hungry.”
“I know what you’re thinking, okay?”
“I doubt it.”
“You’re recalling what just happened in the club.” I lower my voice. “Don’t you dare bring it up to anyone.”
“Yes, Miss Prim and Proper,” he mocks. “But that’s not what I was thinking about.”
“No?”
“I was actually picturing eating you instead of the food we ordered.”
My lips part and I gulp, the image stabbing through my mind without permission. Just like Cole. He’s toying with my brain in more ways than one.
I clear my throat, opting to change the subject. “Is that book as depressing as the other book from that author?”
He’s reading Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. When I was fourteen, I read Norwegian Wood by the same author after that quote. I spent the night crying with how the story turned out. I loved the hero so much, and I hated how fate dealt with his emotions.
“Haruki Murakami’s books aren’t depressing. They’re unique.”
Cole doesn’t read much fiction, if at all. He usually has his head buried in philosophy and psychological books. I know he loves Helen’s books, but they’re mostly psychological crime thrillers. I take a pause when he says he loves a certain fiction author who doesn’t write in the psychological vein.
“What’s so unique about them?” I ask.
“It’s his imagery. He wrenches you out of the world and he offers riddles without solutions, letting the readers solve them themselves. Everyone’s interpretation is different from the other. It’s art.”
I see it then. The gleam in his eyes whenever he reads said books. Cole likes the challenge and being immersed in something so deep, he forgets his surroundings. It’s his own form of chaos.
“Most find it frustrating, of course, and bombard the publisher with endless questions.”
“I think it’s beautiful.”
He lifts his head, raising a brow. “You do?”
“Yes, I think many people need surrealism and to be able to find their own solutions.” Like Cole.
I like Haruki for producing books that keep Cole invested and excited. I even forgive him for breaking my heart in Norwegian Wood.
The waitress brings us our pizzas and bats her lashes at him. Bitch.
“Uh, excuse me?” I force a fake smile. “I ordered mayonnaise with my French fries.”
“Coming right up.” She smiles one final time. I glare at her back as she leaves and even when she brings it to me.
“The service here sucks,” I grumble.
Cole smiles.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Your jealousy can be adorable, Butterfly.”
“I’m not jealous.” I take my first bite of pizza and burn my tongue. Ow!
Cole slides the cup of cola to me, still smiling in that blood-boiling way.
“I’m not jealous,” I insist, taking a slurp of the drink. “I just wanted my mayonnaise.”
“Who even eats mayonnaise with French fries when they have pizza?”
“I do.” I stuff one in my mouth.
He leans over the table so his face is mere inches away and he reaches a hand to me. I freeze. What is he doing? Is he going to kiss me in public or something?
Oh, God.
Cole wipes my nose and then sits back down. “You had something there.”
I release a long breath, not knowing if I should feel relieved or disappointed. What the hell is wrong with me?
We spend the rest of the meal in easy conversation about other fiction authors Cole reads, which aren’t a lot. Aside from Haruki Murakami, there’s Helen, John Le Carré, Honoré de Balzac, Kahlil Gibran, and Lee Child.
Speaking of, Cole says there’s a new release by Lee Child that he needs to buy, so we swing by the bookstore after we leave the restaurant. He teases me all the way about my mayonnaise eating habit. He really does enjoy getting on my nerves.
So in the bookstore, I load the dice against him. “Hey, nerd. You’re supposed to live your life, not spend it stuck in books.”
“I have both.” He retrieves a few copies from the new release shelf. “I have fun and read books.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Didn’t I just prove it in the club, Butterfly?”
Touché.
“You’re still a nerd, Cole.”
“You still find it hot. I know you watch me when I read.” He winks. “I watch you when I read, too. Especially in the pool.”
“Pervert.”
“I think we’ve already established that. But so are you.”
“I’m not.”
“You are for me.”
“I said I’m not.”
Fine, so maybe I watch him a little. Okay, whenever I get the chance. Now that we live under the same roof, I can’t actually take my eyes off him, even if I try.
He runs his fingers over the books as he moves from one row to another and I swallow, recalling those same lean fingers inside me not so long ago.
I follow him like a lost puppy, unable to cut eye contact with his hand.
“Remembering something?” He smirks at me.
“No.” I stare at the opposite shelf.
“What did I say about that word?”
“What are you going to do about it?” I place a hand on my hip. “Fuck me in the middle of the bookstore?”
He stalks towards me, and before I know it, he cages my nape with his hand. He pushes me until my back hits the shelf, then he slams his free hand by my head. His lips inch forward until they’re a breath away from mine, as if he’s about to kiss me.
“You think I wouldn’t do it?”
“C-Cole, stop.” I search our surroundings, my heart beating fast.
“Don’t test me, Silver. I’m barely able to keep my fucking hands off you in public.”
“Silver and Cole sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Ronan appears in front of us with a huge grin, grabbing Xan by the shoulder.
I push away from Cole, my cheeks flaming.
“By all means.” Xander motions between us. “Continue. We don’t even need popcorn.”
“There’s nothing to continue,” I say in a cool tone. Mum says even if you’re caught, act as if you did nothing wrong.
“Yeah, right, Queen B,” Xander huffs.
“Merde!” Ronan’s face falls. “Does this mean we can’t see your tits anymore?”
“Don’t mention them again or life as you know it will be over, Astor.” Cole’s face and voice remain calm, but the menace is clear in his eyes. “You too, Knight.”
“I knew you were the jealous type,” Xan grins, showing his dimples.
“You knew?” Ronan hits his shoulder.
“I suspected they were making babies at your house the other night.”
My face heats. “We weren’t!”
“Yes, you were.” Xander waggles his brows. “Aiden had to help drive you home after one of Cole’s sessions.”
“Under my damn roof and yet I’m the last to know? Again?” Ronan speaks in a dramatic voice. “I feel left out again. Now I have to see my therapist. Are you going to pay for his bill or take responsibility for the emotional damage? Are you? That’s what I thought. Why am I always left out of the cool stuff, merde?”
“It’s not what it seems.” I try to keep my calm façade, but I’m trapped with no way out.
Cole holds his paperbacks nonchalantly to his side. “It is.”
“Cole!” I glare at him.
“I knew it.” Xan extends his hand to Ronan. “Hand me my hundred.”
“Wait.” Ronan stares between us. “Are you fucking? Because that’s the only thing I bet on.”
“No!” I shriek.
“Yes. Every night,” Cole says in a cool tone.
“Fuck me.” Xan shows his dimples. “Make that two hundred, Ron.”
“You get five, mon ami. This shit is interesting.” Ronan grins. “So you, like, do it under your parents’ roof at night? Or in the shower? Are you open to threesomes?”
A scream fights to be set free, but I bottle it inside and storm past them. Ronan calls behind me that he’s only here to get his mother a new book and won’t bother us, but I’m not hearing him.
It isn’t until I’m in front of Cole’s Jeep that I realise I don’t have my freaking car because the arsehole sent it away.
He comes right after me and as soon as he opens the door, I climb inside, arms folded and nostrils flaring.
“What’s gotten your knickers in a twist?” he asks casually after getting behind the steering wheel.
“Are you acting as if you don’t know? Why the hell would you tell Xander and Ronan about…about… You know!”
“Us. It’s called us.” His voice turns edgy. “And they at least need to know you belong to me. It’s not like they’ll tell anyone.”
“There is no us, Cole. Stop fooling yourself.”
He angles his body in my direction and I push back against the seat, expecting him to do something — not sure what, but he can’t kiss me here where everyone can see us.
Instead of touching me, he pulls the seatbelt and straps me in. “There is an us. In fact, that’s the only thing that exists. The sooner you stop fighting that, the better for you.”
He tugs on my hair — hard — before he settles back in place. I pretend he’s not there on the ride home. Or I try to anyway. I’ve never managed to succeed at that.
As soon as we’re inside, Papa and Helen greet us for dinner.
“I’m glad you’re getting along,” Helen says.
“Your meal was well received,” Papa adds.
“Meal?” I ask, staring between them.
Helen shows me an article.
‘Sebastian’s Family: The Future’
There’s a sneaky picture taken of me and Cole while we were eating and smiling. It was when I got the mayonnaise on my nose.
I return Papa’s welcoming expression, even though I die a little inside.
I make sure to stay away from Cole for the rest of the evening. No sitting near him or across from him. No looking at him during Frederic’s briefing. When it’s time for bed, I lock my door and hide under my sheets, barely holding in the tears.
I dial Mum and she picks up after the second ring.
“Mum…”
“What is it, honey?” Her voice is weak but concerned.
“I just miss you.”
“Oh, Babydoll. I miss you, too.” She sniffles.
“Mum, are you crying?”
“I miss you. I miss home. I even miss Sebastian. What is wrong with me?”
I sit up, my heart racing. “Mum, are you drinking?”
“No. I’m watching The Notebook and hating my life.”
“How many times have you watched that one? I thought you hated romantic films.”
“I do.” She pauses. “Is he happy with her?”
I swallow, but I choose to lessen the blow. “I’m not sure.”
“He is. You just don’t want to hurt me.” She releases a breath. “I’ll be better, Babydoll. I promise.”
“Mum, if you still care about Papa, why did you guys get a divorce?”
“I do not care about him. Your father will realise his mistake with Helen and beg me to be with him, and do you know what I will tell him? No. Besides, I have Lucien.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I know, Mum. Any man is lucky to have you.”
“What’s the point if I can’t have the only one for me?” She releases a sigh. “Anyway, tell me about your day.”
We talk for a few more minutes about school and piano. After she hangs up, I keep thinking about what she said.
What’s the point if I can’t have the only one for me?
Really, what’s the point?
I’m about to switch off the bedside lamp when a shadow appears at the balcony. There’s a rustle of the curtains before someone barges inside.
My mouth opens to scream, but then I make out Cole.
He’s in simple grey cotton trousers and a white T-shirt, but he appears like a model in those home shoots.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I pant. “What are you doing here?”
“Sleeping.”
“Get out. I locked the door for a reason.”
“The locked door can’t keep me away. Besides, why do you think I chose the room next to yours? I always come through the balcony. I have to keep my door locked, too, in case Mum comes to check on me.”
“Is there anything you don’t think through?”
“You.” He dives beside me under the covers and holds me close to him. His chestnut strands fall haphazardly across his head.
“M-me?”
“You’re the only thing I’ve never been able to think through.”
My breath shortens, but I whisper, “Because I’m your chaos?”
“Because you’re the reason I look forward to new days.” His hand slips under my oversized shirt. “Mmm. Nothing. You’re on the naughty list this year.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. My naughty girl.” He yanks his trousers down and I bite my lip as he aligns the tip of his cock with my entrance. “I’m going to fuck you like that man did that woman today. It’s going to be hard and ruthless, and you’re going to moan my name.”
My limbs liquefy and I’m about to moan from the assault of his words alone.
I don’t get to reply as Cole slams inside me in one merciless go.
And then he keeps his promise.
