Page 85 of Axe-identally Married
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Willa
The ride home was silent. Except for the sound of my heart beating out of my chest. I was having some kind of physical reaction that I couldn’t understand or explain.
The whole way home, I snuck glances at Cole as he quietly drove—the corded muscles of his forearms gripping the steering wheel; the way his eyes narrowed when he was focusing on the road.
Something had changed tonight. When he spoke to Jonathan, my neurons shifted. His words, his tone of voice, even the way he touched me, had changed my genetic makeup, and I’d never be the same.
He’d claimed me.
Publicly.
He’d practically shouted about his attraction from the rooftops. Logically, I knew it was for show. That he was being a good friend and a good fake husband. But logic was not winning this fight. Because my hormones had kicked into overdrive.
And lust had entered the equation.
I was lusting after my husband.
He was gorgeous, and sure, I’d always felt some level of attraction to him.
But this was something else entirely. My body ached for him. My mind was solely focused on him. I wanted to touch every inch of him, experience the kind of connection I had only ever read about in books.
If I were brave, I’d kiss him. I’d climb on top of him and give in to the ache that had been building inside me since he sat next to me on that bench in Vegas.
But that wasn’t how real life worked.
He was a good man, and he’d been working hard to figure his life out. In many ways, he was helping me too.
I was getting way more out of the marriage than he was.
What if I came on to him, only to find that he wasn’t attracted to me? That I was wildly misreading the signals?
I needed Lila. She’d help me break this down and walk through every possibility.
But I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t tell anyone.
I was alone with my lust. And it was going to kill me.
We parked and headed into the house, still ensconced in this bubble of silence. At the very least, I should find my voice and thank him for what he’d done, for the way he’d stuck up for me. To most, it may not have been a big deal, but seeing Jonathan’s reaction to Cole’s declaration had healed a tiny piece of my teenage broken heart.
But before I could find the words, Cole hung his coat, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for his room.
My stomach plummeted. Why was he leaving? It wasn’t even late. Was he upset? Oh God, I’d been so consumed by my lust that I’d failed to realize that he was upset.
I hesitated in the kitchen, just outside his room. He clearly wanted to be alone. But I wanted to smooth things over. I hatedthe idea that he might be feeling bad about our encounter with Jonathan and what I’d said to him after.
Letting my hormones take over, I stepped up to his door. We had promised each other total honesty. And I didn’t want to go to bed with a weird misunderstanding hanging between us.
As I stood there, working up the nerve to knock, he let out a low groan. Oh shit, he really was upset.
I knocked lightly, desperate to clear the air. To talk about this like adults. We’d done a great job of being open and honest so far. This would be fine.
He didn’t answer.
Thinking he hadn’t heard me, I knocked again, and when he still didn’t answer, I twisted the doorknob. It was unlocked.
With my fingertips, I pushed, and when Cole came into sight, I called his name softly.
