Page 55 of Broken Hearts

Her words linger, full of potential and risk. Time seems to pause, the show's noise and lights fading away. Tentatively, I reach for her hand, half-expecting her to pull back. But she doesn't. Our fingers entwine, silently accepting the challenge before us.

With her hand in mine, my fear of losing her mixes with the hope of what we could have. I'm ready to risk everything for a chance with her. I know in my heart that she's worth the gamble..

Chapter 21

Eva

Waking up feels like surfacing from deep water, my head heavy and thoughts hazy. The first thing I register is the warmth enveloping me, a sense of comfort that feels both foreign and familiar. As my eyes flutter open, I’m met with the sight of Cole’s chest, rising and falling steadily under my cheek. Panic flutters in my chest—how did I end up in his arms?

Memories from last night are patchy at best. Champagne, laughter, the soft lull of music. But everything after the show blurs into a foggy mess. Yet, lying here with him, there’s an undeniable rightness that battles with my confusion.

He stirs, his arms tightening around me, drawing me up. His lips find my neck, and his gentle kisses send shivers down my spine. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice raspy with sleep.

I pull back slightly to see his sleepy face and blond hair sprawled on the pillow. “Did we… last night, did we do anything?” I blurt out, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

His lips curl into a half smile. “You’ll have to be more specific. We did a lot of things.” His fingertips brush my lips.

Heat floods my cheeks. “I mean… did we have sex?”

“No,” he says, eyes locking with mine. “But it’s definitely on the agenda now.” He tightens his grip around my waist and flips us so I’m on my back, his face hovering above mine.

Despite the chaos in my mind, I don’t push him away. His closeness, his touch, it’s all too tempting. “That’s a bad idea,” I whisper, even as my body betrays my words, my nipples hardening and my panties dampening as his fingers trace circles on my lower belly.

“Why?” He caresses my neck with his lips. “We could be friends with benefits.”

“We’re not friends,” I try to argue, clinging to a shred of reason.

He chuckles. “Fine, acquaintances with benefits?” His hand slips into my underwear, and I part my legs almost instinctively, revealing my undeniable arousal.

He groans, his hardness pressing against me as he slides his fingers inside.

“I think that’s called a one-night stand,” I manage to say, a moan escaping me as he adds another finger.

“Call it what you want, as long as I get to kiss you, taste you, bury myself in you.” His words are a whisper against my lips as he kisses me deeply, his fingers moving faster inside me, his thumb pressing on my clit.

Just as I’m about to climax, he stops, leaving me gasping in frustration. “I’ll give you what you need, Angel,” he murmurs, sliding off my underwear and positioning himself, his bare length teasing my entrance.

I trust him now, knowing I’m on the pill and safe. Our eyes lock, and we lose ourselves to each other. His movements are slow, deliberate, drawing out each sensation. He whispers in my ear, “You love me, don’t you, Evangeline? Despite everything, you do, don’t you?”

On the edge of sanity, teetering on the brink of an earth-shattering orgasm, I can’t hold back the truth. “Yes,” I breathe out, and he kisses me fiercely, passionately, and I come, my cry muffled by his searing kiss.

His thrusts become harder, and I respond in the way I know he loves, my heels on his muscular back, spreading myself wider, digging my nails into his skin, and sucking on his neck.

He climaxes with a roar, my name on his lips, collapsing on top of me. “Here you are,” he whispers against my neck, licking it lazily. “My girl is back.”

At that moment, I can’t deny it. I am his girl, even when I don’t want to be.

Cole pulls out of me and rolls to the side, taking me along with him, our bodies fitting together as if made for this very moment. He holds me close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against my ear. There’s a vulnerability in his embrace that I’ve never really felt from him before.

“I’m almost scared to wake up and find this isn’t real,” he whispers, his voice tinged with a fear he rarely shows.

His words echo in my mind, mirroring my own fears. The ease of lying here with him, how natural it feels, terrifies me. I’ve spent so long building walls, and now they’re crumbling without my permission.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?” I ask, peeking at the alarm on the nightstand, partly to distract myself from the intensity of the moment.

He tightens his hold, a knowing smile in his voice. “Ah, I was wondering how long it would take for you to start running away again.”

“I’m not running,” I protest weakly, but it sounds unconvincing, even to my own ears.

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