Page 89 of Thunderstruck
Opening his eyes, Cole studies me for a beat and then covers my ears with his hands just long enough for him to whisper something I can’t hear. I can’t read lips either, so I have no idea what he just said to me.
It wasn’t “I love you.” I know that much. But it was something that feels important, and as his hands fall from my ears to my neck, I try to read his thoughts in his dark eyes. Whatever he’s thinking, it’s making him anything but happy.
“I told you,” Cole says after a moment, slowly lowering me back to my feet, which probably means I’m not getting another kiss like that tonight. “No more patience.”
I can barely stand upright because my body is still reacting to that kiss, so I lean against the wall and wish he was wearing his shirt so I could grab hold of it and keep him from leaving. Grabbing his bare waist feels too desperate, even for me.
Cole seems to realize what I’m wearing at the same moment I’m thinking this, his eyes tracing the way his gray shirt hangs at my mid-thigh, and his muscles contract as he takes a step back, making him look even stronger than a moment ago. “Can I add something to the rules?” he asks, voice strained.
My heart sinks. “I thought we were done with rules.”
Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his damp hair and takes another step away from me. “Carissa, we can’t—”
“The guys are okay with it. With us.” But even as I say it, I know that’s not Cole’s only hangup. “And you’re not cursed.”
“But what if I am?” He swallows thickly. “What if you get hurt because of me?”
“I won’t!”
“What. If.” His eyes glisten with moisture, the first time I’ve seen any kind of emotion like that with him. His pain settles deep inside me, an ache that I already know won’t go away until I can heal him first. “Carissa, you’re too special to risk.”
“So you would rather lose me now?” I fold my arms, anger surging in my belly. “You can’t kiss me like that and then say you don’t want to be with me. I know you do, andIwant to be withyou. Why are we still fighting this?”
He growls. “Because—”
I don’t let him finish. Rising to my toes, I grab his neck and pull myself up to kiss him again. He responds immediately, hands gripping the shirt at my waist and tugging me closer as he explores my mouth with a desperation that matches mine. We’re two souls pulled together by a force stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, and I never want to stop kissing him.
But I do, slipping from his hold and grabbing my towel and shoes with shaky fingers.
“We have a game to focus on tomorrow,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on my toes. “So I’m going to go up to my room and try to sleep. But after you win?” I peek up at him, my face heating when I see the burning desire in his gaze. “We’re going to talk about this. I’m not letting you go that easily, Coleman Evanson.”
He doesn’t call me back or say anything to argue as I slip from the alcove and head to the elevator. I can’t decide if that’s good or bad, and I get back to my room quickly.
Mel’s already asleep, though her phone is lying on the bed next to her, in the middle of a call. I smile when I see that it’s Moxie on the other end. Moxie’s surgery went well, but Mel has been worried about him all week, leaving practice early most days to stop by and check on him on her way home. Thankfully she finally found a reliable daycare that she can afford, which has given her the chance to keep an eye on Moxie and spend more time with him.
Something tells me it’s not just about helping his recovery.
Carefully reaching across the bed and ending the call—from the silence on the other end, I’m guessing Moxie is asleep too—I quickly hopin the shower. I don’t need to warm up anymore thanks to Cole, but I’m eager to wash away the day and let my heart rate calm despite my racing thoughts.
I get that Cole is scared. History has set convincing precedence to believe in a family curse. But if he’s going to let that fear keep us from being more than friends, I need to know now. I value his friendship too much to lose him, but I’m done giving my heart away to men who won’t give me theirs in return.
This is exactly why I avoided Cole in the first place.
By the time I get out of the shower and climb into bed, I’m ready to sleep as long as I possibly can, but my phone buzzes on the end table. I frown—it’s late—but grab it to see who texted me.
My stomach dips when I see Cole’s name on the screen.
Cole:
I’m sorry.
You deserve more than what I gave you tonight.
Frowning, I think through the many possible meanings of his words. Is he saying I deserve more than a man who’s too scared to try? More conversation? More kissing?
He texts again before I can wonder for too long.
Cole:
