Pieces of Me (18 page)

“What
are you talking about?”

Grace
sighs, sinking into a chair at the table. “I Googled your name, Delaney. Weeks
ago. Right after you moved out.”

I
swallow, but I can't make any words come out of my mouth. Cole doesn't have the
same problem.

“What
the fuck, Grace. You knew? And you didn't tell me.” His voice has the same
layer of ice to it now that I heard that day in the bookstore. I lay my hand on
his arm, feeling the tension sliding through his body.

“Stop,
Cole,” I whisper. “It's okay.”

“No
it isn’t,” he snaps. He's glaring at Grace. “I can't believe you fucking knew
and didn't tell me. All these months,” his voice trails off and it isn't just
anger in his eyes, but hurt.

“It
had to come from me, Cole,” I say. I look at Grace who is battling tears after
being yelled at by Cole. “It had to come from me or it wouldn't have meant
anything,” I tell him, but my eyes stay locked with hers. I try to convey every
bit of how sorry I am in those words, in my eyes that stay locked on hers. She
breaks eye contact, looking behind me to Cole.

“How
was I supposed to tell you that, Cole? She'd already broken your heart. I
didn't want to stomp it into the ground. Fuck.” She runs her hand through her
hair.

“You
saw the pictures?”

She
meets my gaze again. “Yes, I saw the pictures.”

“What
pictures?”

Grace
shakes her head at Cole’s question. “I promise, you don't want to see them. It
isn't something you’ll forget.”

“The
store manager,” I wait until Cole is looking at me before I continue. “He took
pictures, on his cell phone while he waited for the cops.”

“Fucker,”
Grant mutters before dropping down next to Grace. His hand drops casually over
hers on the table. “He should be in prison too.”

“He
saved my life.”

“That
doesn't make him any less if a douche.” Grant says.

“Who
else knows?” My hand reaches back and links with Cole’s.

“Just
us.” Grace runs her hand through her hair again. “Just us and Robby.” She looks
to Cole. “He wanted to tell you, but I made him swear. I was just trying to
protect you, Cole.”

“If
you had told me, this could have been over months ago. We could have been
together.”

I'm
shaking my head the second the words come out. “I wouldn't have been ready
months ago, Cole. It had to be me that told you, and it had to be me telling
you when I was ready to tell you. I would have done the same as Grace. Don't be
mad at her.”

I've
turned to look at him, and after a moment he smirks. “You’ve told me that
before.”

“She
loves you. Maybe almost as much as I do.”

That
gets him to smile. I lean up on tiptoe, pressing my lips against his briefly. I
know I need to talk with Grace, to try and explain what I had been thinking,
what I had been going through.

But
at that moment all I want to do is revel in the fact that I am back with Cole,
back with the friends I have come to think of as my family. Looking at him,
this guy who loves me despite, or maybe because of, all I've been through, I
feel the pieces of myself that I've hoarded for years click into place. Not the
same as before, not perfect or whole, but enough that I have something to offer
him. And that's all I really need.

“Are
my eggs ready?” I ask with a smile. “I'm starving.”

I'm
cleaning unnecessarily. I'm the only one who lives in the apartment and I'm not
exactly a slob, so there is never really a whole lot of cleaning to do, but I'm
nervous so I'm dusting.
Cole had spent the first part of spring break at home with his family. He'd
wanted me to go with him, but Grace and I were still on shaky ground and I
didn't want to put everyone right in the middle of all that tension.

And
I was terrified of seeing his parents again after everything that had happened.
Even though he assured me that they weren’t upset, and were just happy that he
was happy. So I had made him go alone, with extensive assurances that it
wouldn't end like the last time I had made him go home without me.

But
he was on his way back now to spend the remainder of spring break with me. I
had even gotten the next few days off from the bookstore. Cliff’s only
concession had been that I had to bring Cole in so he could meet him, and I had
to give serious consideration to letting him ban Beth.

He
would be here in time for dinner, but I was too nervous to be anywhere even
close to hungry.

I wasn't planning on letting him go back to his apartment tonight. And the
thought was making me slightly nauseous, but not for the reasons I thought it
would.

In
the past month our relationship had shifted and slid, changing from what it had
been before and moving towards something so much better.

With
a sigh, I shook my head and forced myself to put the dusting supplies away and
go and take a shower. My third of the day, but who was keeping count?

I
slipped into a pair of loose faded jeans with a loose white tank top. I left my
hair down and loose, the light curls bouncing around my shoulders. I debated
shoes, and really who has to have a ten minute internal debate about whether or
not to wear shoes?

The
decision was made for me when I heard Cole knock, and with one final glance at
my slightly flushed face in the mirror I hurried to answer the door.

I
wonder briefly if my heart would ever stop stuttering at the sight of him. He’s
smiling at me, and before he can say anything I lean forward and lay my mouth
against his.

I
know it catches him by surprise. I very rarely initiate anything physical
between us. In fact, other than that one night after we'd gone to the bar, and
the occasional quick kiss, I don't think I had ever been the one to start
things.

But
I want to today because I don't want there to be any doubt on his side that
this is what I want, that he is what I want.

It
doesn't take long for the surprise to fade away. He brings one hand up, cupping
the side of my neck; fingers burying in my hair, he takes the kiss deeper.

I
instinctively go to move closer to him, but something sharp pokes into my
chest. I yank back, startled, and see that he's carrying a pizza box in one
hand. And that he's laughing at me.

“Sorry.
You said you only had frozen dinners and I'm starving.” He moves past me into
the kitchen, sliding the pizza on the counter. I move with him, going to the
cabinets to pull out plates and a glass for him. I've started stocking his
favorite soft drink, and I know it's what he'll want, so I pull out the bottle
and a bottle of water for me.

“How
were your parents?”

“Upset
that you wouldn't come. Shit, that’s still hot.” He drops the pizza slice down
on a plate before scooting it over towards me. “But Mom understood. Although
I'm supposed to tell you that it only applies to this trip. Next time I show up
without you she's going to come hunt you down.”

“And
Grace?”

Shaking
his head he says, “The two of you seriously need to sit down and work this out,
she asks me about you every time I see her, but she's good.”

I
shrug my shoulders. “We will, one day. Girls work differently than boys when it
comes to this sort of thing.”

In
the twenty minutes he's been here he's eaten half the pizza while I've managed
about half of my original slice. He's sitting on my small couch, one arm spread
across the back. It's still a little cool outside so he's dressed in a pair of
loose jeans and a black t-shirt, his curls contained under a baseball hat that
he's wearing backwards.

“What
are you doing way over there?”

I'd
settled into the small reading chair in the corner of the room, afraid that if
I touched him again I was going to go up in flames. At his question, I feel the
blush race up my neck.

“No
reason.” I mutter in answer to his knowing smirk.

“Then
come over here and neck with me on the couch, Delaney.”

“Neck?
I'm sorry, what year is it? 1955?”

“Would
get your ass over here so I can stick my tongue down your throat be better?”

I
wrinkle my nose. “Uh, no.”

Laughing
he says, “So just get over here. I've missed you.”

My
legs are shaking so bad I'm afraid they aren't going to hold me, but I push off
the chair anyway and head over to the couch. I don't sit down though. I stand
in front of him, hesitating only a second before I hold my hand out to him.

He
looks at it for the briefest of moments before smiling and saying, “We aren't
going to watch the game, are we?”

And
just like that, every doubt I have disappears. Smiling, I shake my head no.
“Not unless you really, really, want to.”

He
slips his hand into mine. “I think I can miss it this one time. I guess.”

“You
guess, huh?” I pull him to his feet, thrilled when his arms automatically lock
around my waist.

“Delaney.”
His voice is soft, serious, his gaze direct on mine. “We don't have to do this
now.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “We can wait. However long it
takes, Delaney. I'm here for
you
, the rest can come when it comes.”

And
had I been hesitant at all, his words would have been enough to tip the scales.

“I
love you, Cole. I never thought I was going to get to say that to anyone. I
never thought I was going to be standing here, in this spot, wanting to make
the next move.” Leaning up on tiptoe, I brush a light kiss across his mouth. “I
think I've waited long enough.”

“Well
then, okay.” His hands slide down my body, settling just under my ass, and he
lifts me up so my legs can wrap around his waist. At the same time his lips
take control of mine.

The
heat swarms me, every inch of me on fire as I twist my arms around his neck,
holding him against me as he moves us through the apartment towards my bedroom.
My body rubs against his and the friction causes sparks to shoot out, igniting
me.

We
stumble through the door of my room and it thrills me that he is so caught up
in the moment that he trips over his own feet. Seconds later I land in my bed
with a bounce, laughing as he struggles to get his shirt over his head.

It
gets stuck on the hat he apparently forgot he was wearing. He cusses and I
laugh as I watch him yank the hat off his head and then reach over and pull his
shirt over his head one handed.

The
instant his shirt is gone he follows me down to the bed, careful to hold his
weight off my body. His eyes haven't left mine since the moment we stepped into
the room, other than when he removed his shirt, and I realize that he is
nervous.

His
hand is trembling slightly as it comes up and brushes down the side of my face.
I close my eyes at the contact, savoring the feel of his skin against mine. His
fingers brush hesitantly over my skin, they dance down, sliding under the edge
of my tank top. But he doesn’t move any further than laying his hands on my
stomach.

His
kisses are soft and slow. Our tongues dancing sensuously together, as I shift,
trying to bring his body closer to mine. I run my hands down the heated skin of
his back before sliding them up and around to his stomach. I trace the edges of
the muscles defined there and feel them pull and contract under my hands.

His
are still lying motionless on my stomach.

He
is waiting for me to make the next move; waiting to ensure that I am as ready
as I say I am.

I
pull away from him, listening to the soft slick sound of our lips pulling
apart. His eyes are hooded and heavy when they open to study me. He brings one
hand up, his thumb brushing across my wet bottom lip.

“You
okay?” His voice is even deeper than normal.

“Are
you?”

“I
just want to make sure this is what you want, Del, and not what you think I
want.”

I
shift under him, moving around until I can sit up. His eyes are still on me as
I move. Watching him, I reach down to pull my tank top over my head, noting the
way his eyes widen, slipping down over the pretty nude colored bra I had put on
knowing he would see it, before sliding back up again.

I
reach around to unclasp the bra, drawing in one quick breath before sliding the
straps down my shoulders, pulling it off and dropping it on the floor. His lips
kick up in a smile.

“I
guess that shows me.”

The
first time our chests touch, skin to skin, I feel the deliciousness of it
shiver right down to my very core. It forces a slight gasp to pull from my lips
just seconds before his mouth covers mine again.

His
hands skim down, dancing hotly over my skin. When they close around my breast,
I gasp again, and he captures the sound in his mouth. His lips move, slipping
and sliding over my neck as his body shifts down. Moments later his mouth
closes over one of my nipples and my back arches off the bed in response.

The
heat of his mouth continues to move down, brushing the underside of my breast,
skimming down the taunt skin of my stomach, licking right above the band of my
jeans.

His
tongue continues its assault on my skin as his fingers unsnap my jeans, the
sound of the zipper sliding down is drowned out by the moan the escapes me
under his ministrations. The denim slides down my legs. Within seconds I’m left
only in my underwear and the contrast of jeans against my skin is inexplicably
arousing.

I
move, shifting so I can run my mouth against the hot skin of his shoulder, but
he pulls way. I frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”
He says with a smile, his lips moving against my skin as he talks. “Let me do
this for you.”

He
moves down, lips skimming over the delicate skin of my inner thighs, and I
instantly feel like I’m going to explode beneath him. He slips his fingers under
the lacey edge of my underwear, slipping them down and off to land on the
growing pile of clothes on the floor.

His
tongue traces circles on the inside of my thigh and my hands fist in the sheets
of my bed.

I
need him to touch me, and try to shift so that his mouth will cover right where
I need it most. But he holds my hips firmly against the mattress, his mouth and
tongue teasing as they bath my skin in heat in everywhere but the one place I
want them most.

“Cole.”
I whimper when his tongue slides deliciously close. “Please.”

“Please
what, Delaney?”

Oh,
God. Now his fingers join the torture, and they slip through my heat and it
feels like magic when they settle against me. He tilts his head enough that our
eyes can meet the first time he slips one finger inside of me.

I
gasp at the feeling that floods my body, my eyes closing at the multitude of
sensations that assault me. My entire body is humming with desire as his finger
slides out and then back in again. He finds a rhythm and I find my hips moving
to match it, little whimpers escaping as I feel my body starting to gather and
tighten.

When
his mouth closes over me I nearly come off the bed entirely. It only takes
seconds for the flame of desire inside of me to shatter into a tiny thousand
pieces, and I call out his name in a ragged whisper.

Through
a haze I realize he has pulled away from me, but before I can protest he is
back, his jeans gone. His lips slide up the side of my body, settling on my
neck, right below my ear.

“You
okay?”

I
want to tell him yes, want to ask how he thinks I can be anything else, but I
can’t find the words so I nod my head instead.

“Good.”

He
shifts above me, one hand on either side of my head as he holds his body above
mine. My head is turned to the right, watching the play of muscle in his arms
as they hold his weight over me.