Page 56 of Ice Cold Heart

Then three days before he was supposed to leave, he began violently puking in his office. Bad luck for him, good luck for us when we changed out his direct flight for two cheaper ones with multiple layovers. I’d hoped to get home earlier, but multiple layovers meant multiple delays. It was honestly a miracle we’d even made this last flight.

Cole and the guys had a game tonight, which Marco and I were supposed to attend, but our plane was late landing in Dallas. We’d been traveling most of the day, and Marco’s girlfriend was picking us up “eventually”—her words. Next time, I’d make my own arrangements.

As usual, my first thought was Cole. Would he drive to Dallas for airport duty? I’d always taken an Uber before, so I didn’t know the etiquette. Apparently, significant others took on the responsibility, but Cole wasn’t my significant anything, despite agreeing to fuck only him. I eyed my messenger bag, shoved under the seat in front of me, and tried to quelch the urge to ask him.

I couldn’t resist any longer. Number twenty-four got me. I pulled my phone out of my bag and cringed as I paid for access to my messages. Before we’d boarded, I’d been teasing him about hockey players’ obsessions with their jerseys, specifically women wearing their jerseys, and he’d definitely reacted.

Me: Maybe I should get a collection and rotate. Spread around the love.

Cole: Absolutely not. If I see Reece’s name on your back, I’m ripping it off you.

Cole: Unrelated, come over after the game.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my grin in check. Marco was far enough away he couldn’t read over my shoulder, but I didn’t want to give him ammunition to hack my phone or something either.

Me: Tutoring session?

Cole should have been at the arena already for pre-game, but he apparently had his phone nearby. The response was immediate.

Cole: We can do that too if you want.

I was exhausted, but Cole’s message kicked up my adrenaline with a shiver of excitement. If I went home, I’d pass out until classes started on Monday. The logistics of going over to Cole’s weren’t easy. I had one bag full of newspaper crap meant for our table, and another full of dirty clothes.

With a quick sniff of my shirt, I confirmed I smelled like twelve hours in an airport. I really should stay home… but I didn’t want to.

Me: What do I get if you win?

Cole: Shouldn’t I be asking you that?

Me: Okay. What do you get if you win?

Cole: Hopefully you. Naked. In my bed.

Cole: I’m less picky about the last part.

Cole: Full disclosure, it was the same answer either way.

I smothered my laugh and cast a quick glance at Marco to be sure he was still engrossed in his book. No worries there.

Me: Guess we’ll see what happens when the game is over. Good luck.

With a smile, I set my phone in my lap, ignoring the buzzing from the messages coming through. I had another hour before we landed, and I needed to take a nap if I planned to be at Cole’s house before he got home from the arena.

TU destroyed the other team. I kept track of the game as I waited at the airport, while Marco’s girlfriend drove us at ten miles under the speed limit from Dallas to Addison, and during the quick turnaround at my dad’s house. Drop off the newspaper stuff, take a quick shower, grab a change of clothes, lipstick, and off to Cole’s.

They were up four-zero when I parked and waved at Mrs. Lipnicki. Her curtain didn’t move this time, but I liked to err on the side of caution. Cole had told me ages ago they left the back door unlocked, so I circled the house and stopped short when I came face to beak with Henry sitting on top of the fence.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked her, then shrugged and tucked her under my arm on my way into the house.

The guys must have forgotten they let her out. I set her down in the kitchen, and she fluffed her feathers with a disgruntled squawk when I firmly shut the door. She ignored me as I climbed the stairs in favor of staring out into the darkening yard.

I stood for a long moment in the hallway trying to calm my racing heart. He wasn’t home. They still had four minutes to play according to my app. The hesitation wasn’t about Cole—it was about me.

Scott had done a number on my subconscious, and one good experience with Cole’s mouth wasn’t enough to erase several years of manipulation. I wanted to enjoy sex. Invasive fears of disappointment and disgust didn’t belong here, but I still felt an insidious wriggle of doubt.

Cole was right at Christmas. I’d never have been able to pick up a random guy at a Kappa party. I needed someone I trusted to do this with. Maybe I’d been wrong the whole time. Maybe casual, meaningless orgasms weren’t the best way to reclaim my pleasure.

I shook my head and closed myself in his room, then laughed when I caught sight of his bed. Two jerseys lay next to each other, carefully spread out on the blankets. One that would probably fit a human woman, most likely meant for me, and another with parts cut out that would probably fit an adult duck.

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