There Is No Light in Darkness (14 page)

Best,

O’Brian Investment Group

I dismiss the letter and put it away. How’d they get my address? I guess it’s a public listing and they found my name. That’s the problem with living in a world of technology. Google can make anybody a stalker in two clicks. I sort through the rest of my mail and pay a few bills online. My phone rings as I’m looking for my PJs, and I smile when I see Cole’s face on the screen.

“Hey,” I say, grinning like an idiot.

“Hey, baby,” he replies, and I can hear his idiotic smile, too.

“Miss me, already?”

“I always miss you,” he pouts.

“Aww, I always miss you, too,” I coo as if I were talking to a puppy.

“Is it too soon to come see you?”

I laugh. “Cole Murphy, you have lived without constantly seeing me for the past seven years. I’m sure you can survive five days.”

He sighs noisily into the phone. “No, I can’t. I didn’t want to not live with you for seven years. I was dying a slow, agonizing death without you. You just didn’t know it.”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “I’m so sure you were dying when you were with Erin … and Kim … and Taryn … and Rita … and Sandra … and Jessica … and Sasha … and Ana … and Meredith.”

He laughs loudly. “I was dying the entire time I was with all of them. In fact, you remember more names than I do. I was just killing time with them waiting for you to save me.”

“You’re an idiot—” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door, and I groan. “I have to go, baby. I’ll call you later,” I pout with slumped shoulders, totally acting like a toddler.

“Fine,” he whispers. “Miss me a lot.”

I blow him a kiss through the line and hang up. When I open the door, I’m met with his emerald green eyes and his wide grin. I scream loudly and jump on him, hooking my legs around his waist as he grabs my butt to keep me from falling. I kiss his laughing face over and over.

“I thought five days was nothing?” he asks playfully.

“I lied. It’s too long,” I say, smiling as bright as my heart feels before giving him a tight hug again.

“Good because I wasn’t sure how you were going to react. I kept thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have taken the next flight out here.”

I throw my head back, laughing. “Why didn’t you just fly with us, you dweeb?”

“I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you walk away from me. Maybe it’s stupid, and I know I sound like one of those corny-ass guys I make fun of, but it’s the truth. I couldn’t bear the thought of not waking up with you in my arms tomorrow morning.”

If there was ever a time that I wanted to scream that I loved this man, this was it. I. Love. This. Man.

I throw my arms around him again and kiss him, pouring all my love into his mouth. He groans as I slip down his hard body.

“We should have been doing this for the past seven years,” he says, lifting me up and kicking the door shut behind him as he walks me further inside my room. He throws me on the bed and unbuttons his dress shirt as he kicks off his shoes. His eyes are boring into mine, and my heart is pounding wildly in anticipation. My skin is flushing, and my breath is coming out in short pants as I watch him. When he finishes stripping, he stalks toward me, his hooded eyes never leaving mine. He pulls me by my ankles and undresses me quickly. I notice his breathing hitch when he sees my black lace bra and panties.

“You were wearing this under your clothes this morning?” he asks huskily.

“Yes,” I reply, slightly confused. I always wear nice underwear. Then I realize—holy shit—he wouldn’t know. He hasn’t seen me naked in seven years before this weekend. I smile widely because now I know he likes what he sees, and I know that he’ll always like what he sees.

He trails wet kisses up my calf, past my thighs, and works his way up to my mouth slowly, stopping only to nibble on the sensitive parts of my body that he knows so well. I struggle to keep my breath even, but when he pulls the cup of my bra down and I feel his mouth close on my nipple, I am a goner. I put my hands on his head, wishing he had more hair for me to grab.

“Why’d you cut your hair?” I groan.

He clamps my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp before he looks at my face with his lips upturned, showing off his dimple. “I didn’t want anybody else to touch it.”

He lowers the other side of my bra and caresses my nipple with his tongue while he massages the other one with his fingers, not leaving any part of me ignored. I moan his name as he continues his sweet torture. He brings his lips to mine and kisses me softly as he shimmies my panties down my legs. He centers his hard, muscular body between my legs and enters me slowly, relishing the feel of me. His face watches mine in wonder, in awe, in love—and my expression returns the sentiment. We move in sync, pumping with emotion and sensual pain, and we fall together.

“What did you mean you didn’t want anybody else to touch it?” I ask as I look up at him with my head on his chest and thread my fingers through his short brown hair.

He smiles sadly. “When you broke up with me and I went to North Carolina, I just wanted to start over. I was forced to start over. I didn’t want to,” he gives me a knowing look. “My second week there, I met some random girl at a party,” he caresses my face when I cringe at the thought. “She was flirting with me, asking me about my classes and football practice, and she leaned up and ran her hand through my hair. It made me think of you, and I decided to cut it off the next day. I didn’t want to ever be with a girl and have her pull on my hair like you did. It was bad enough that when I was with girls I wished they were you. I could only picture being with you,” he shrugs. “My hair was for you. Only for you.”

I give him a small smile. “You know those three words that you say to me, and you know how I feel?” He smiles and nods. “If I weren’t so scared, I’d say them right now.”

He kisses my head softly. “You know that nothing is going to happen if you say them, right? They’re just words, baby.”

I shake my head, my eyes tearing up. “No, Cole. When I say them, it’s like I’m asking the universe to make something bad happen. I hope I get over it someday. I hope I can say them and not feel guilty for it. I just—unless I think I’m going to die tomorrow—I won’t say them.”

He chuckles. “Oh, Blake, I love you. To the moon and back,” he says with a wink.

The following afternoon, we’re sitting on the living room floor watching TV when my doorbell rings. I look at Cole, confused. He tilts his head as if to remind me that he doesn’t live here. I get up, look through the peephole, and see blond curly hair and hazel eyes staring back at me. Shit. Russell. I completely forgot about him. I run back to the living room quietly where Cole is looking at me expectantly.

“Russell’s here,” I whisper loudly.

“So?” he asks nonchalantly as he mutes the television.

“So? Get dressed!” I say.

“No. No. No,” he shakes his head. “We’re not playing this game anymore. I didn’t want to play it while you were with the douchebag, and I sure as hell am not going to play it while you’re my girlfriend,” he emphasizes. “My girlfriend, Blake,” he repeats loudly.

I throw my head back and let out a frustrated groan. “I know, I know. I’m not saying to pretend you’re not my boyfriend—just put on a damn shirt.”

He’s wearing basketball shorts and nothing else. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and I look down at myself and shrug. I look fine.

“Hell no. You’re not opening the door wearing that,” he says as he turns to my room.

“Cole, I’m wearing shorts and a tank top,” I say annoyed.

“You’re wearing tiny shorts and a tiny tank top that doesn’t even cover your stomach.”

I laugh because—well, what else can I do? Should I explain to Cole that Russell has seen me wearing a lot less clothing? I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear that. He hears it anyway, though, in my laugh.

“Blake,” he hisses through his teeth. “I don’t even want to think about that, so don’t make me. Put on bigger clothes, and I’ll open the door for the loser.”

“No,” I shriek. “Just let me handle this. You stay here. I’ll change, and you can stay in here.”

“Hell no. That’s not how this is going to go. I’m not hiding anymore.”

“Fine,” I agree as I change.

“That’s what you’re going to wear?” he asks amused.

I look down at the white summer dress I’m wearing. Not tight and not too short.

“What now?” I ask confused.

“You’re going to break up with the poor bastard—or let him know that you’re not going to get back together with him—wearing that?” he asks again.

“Cole, shut up,” I groan and walk past him.

He laughs and walks up behind me. “You look sexy in that,” he purrs in my ear before biting my earlobe and heading back to the living room with me.

I take a deep breath and open the door to find Russell leaning on the frame.

“Hey, Blake,” he says. Damn his accent. Damn. Damn. Damn. I feel so bad.

“Hey,” I reply. “Want to come in?”

“Sure,” he answers as he steps around me. “Are you busy?”

“Not really. Cole and I were just watching TV.” I hope that by mentioning Cole’s name I can break the fall a little for him. Actually, I hope Cole keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t say that we’re together.

“Hey, Cole,” Russell calls out from the kitchen.

“Russell,” Cole greets with a nod and a wave of his hand.

We sit down in the kitchen. I offer him something to drink and he takes a glass of water. I sit with my hands on the table in front of me, unsure if I should start the conversation or let him.

“So,” he starts. “Have you had a good week?”

“Sure,” I shrug. “You?”

“I’ve had better,” he says as his hazel eyes search my face.

“Russell,” I say quietly. “I think we’re better off staying friends.”

“I know. I figured you would still feel that way this week.”

I blink at him. He doesn’t look angry. He looks a little tired, but beyond that, he looks fine. We’d only been together for six months—maybe he didn’t get too attached. I can only hope.

I smile. “Good. So we can still be friends and study together and all that fun stuff?”

He chuckles. “Who am I to turn down a darling girl?” Goodness, that accent.

I bite down on my lip. “Thanks, Russ. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“No, thanks. I better get going. I’ll catch you later, Cole,” he calls out as we get up to walk to the front door. He stops with his hand on the knob and turns to me. He lowers his head and gives me a soft peck on the lips before letting himself out.

“Did he just kiss you?” Cole booms as he walks toward me. My eyes widen and I lock the door quickly and stand in front of it.

“Cole, it was barely a kiss. It was a closure thing,” I reply while I encircle my arms around his waist.

“That little shit better be thinking closure. Make sure he doesn’t kiss you again,” he replies, pulling back to look me in the eye.

I smile. “Yes, sir. These lips are all yours.”

He smirks and scoops me up to take me back to the living room.

“I know, but I can’t believe he fucking kissed you,” he groans into my hair.

Chapter Eleven

Past

The summer had finally arrived, and Cole and I were going to the lake with Becky and Greg for the day. Aubry was working all day, so he couldn’t join us. We crammed our things into Cole’s small black Accord and blasted the music loudly on the way there. Cole was stroking my thumb softly as he cradled my hand in his. We’d been arguing a lot—about everything—and I knew that even though he wouldn’t admit it, college was the source of the problem. Cole was upset that we were going to be in different states. I was upset because I knew I had to let him go. He hadn’t mentioned breaking up, but it would be impossible not to. Cole was every woman’s dream, and since I had him, I was every woman’s envy. I knew that high school was filled with drama, no matter which one you go to or who you are. Still, my four years of high school had been hell, and I was relieved to be out of there. I was ecstatic to be getting out of this small town, so I didn’t have to deal with seeing anybody from school again.

Cole and I were together most of junior year and all of our senior year. The first day when we walked into school holding hands, most people cheered and said, “Finally.” I think it was the beginning of senior year when the girls started getting catty with me. Some guys, Steve in particular, started getting on Cole’s nerves. I guess even though we were together, they figured with Cole’s track record with girls we would break up eventually. When we didn’t let them get to us, they upped their game. Girls started purposely putting underwear in his car, which he never locked. Freaking underwear! Who does that? Steve made an effort to blatantly flirt with me in front of everybody. When Cole found him cornering me one day after math class, he grabbed Steve by the back of the shirt and swung him across the hall. It was like a scene out of an eighties movie where the bully beats up the nerd. Except Steve was no nerd, and he’d overplayed his innocent card.