Page 151 of Muddy Messy Love

“Huh?” I frown but then remember what Hannah said. “Oh. Now?” I cock an amused brow and pretend to fluff my hair. “Like one of your French girls?”

Cole laughs. “You’re my only French girl, and you look spectacular right now. Draped across my couch in the misty sun with bed hair and the dewy afterglow of sex on your skin.”

Usually, I’d think hard before posing for nudes—in fact, until now I’ve had no requests—but I simply nod, struck mute by Cole’s reverence.

It only takes him ten minutes to capture what he wants, and once he returns that fancy camera to the bottom desk drawer, he climbs onto the couch behind me, arranging us so that he’s lying on his back and I’m tucked under his arm with my ear pressed to his chest. He takes a deep breath, then exhales a ragged sigh. “Okay, it’s time for all that naked honesty you wanted. Are you ready?”

I glance up at him with a smirk. Naked indeed—just like us. But the ocean breeze is balmy and warm with a salty scent that perfectly complements his, and there’s nowhere else I want to be. Naked, on all levels, is perfect. “I’m ready.”

I trace meandering circles over his chest and stomach while he talks. His heartbeat is strong and steady, just like his voice, as he relays the story Hannah barely scratched the surface of.

He conveys the depths of his grief after his mum died, and the gut-wrenching betrayal he felt when his dad first raised a fist. How he found solace in self-destruction and landed in trouble he was lucky to escape.

He speaks of Gerard as his white knight of salvation and then crumbles into tears about Hannah. About his failure to protect her and his profound love for Ella—his profound hate for his father.

Tears of my own trickle onto his chest as I bleed along with him. If only I’d known. If only I’d considered someone else’s struggle in addition to my own.

Cole explains his inability to see Gerard as anything but good. How his perception was skewed by gratitude and how that led him down paths he never should have taken.

And then he talks about Thomas—my sperm donor and shitbag extraordinaire. Cole details their every encounter. Mr. Nilsen’s long history with the firm. And the threats that proved worthless in the end, since Benedict Kane continues to thrive without his business or that of his cronies. Cole explains more aboutthosedocuments too, and by the time he’s done, I know exactly whatvindictive Aveswill do.

At times, Cole speaks distantly, like it all happened to someone else, but I just lie here listening—reassuring him—stroking his skin as I lock myself inside his world and learn what it’s like to be him. And by the time he’s done, I feel like there’s no space left between us. Like the universe that lives inside him hasswallowed my very own, and alone no longer exists, nor will it ever again. I feel like Iknowhim.

I glance up, worried I’ve forced Cole back down roads he wasn’t ready to take—worried I’ve caused him harm. But despite his cheeks being damp and his eyes rimmed red and raw, there’s a weightlessness to him. Like he finally dropped a boulder and dissolved some of his shame.

I wriggle up his body and press our damp lips together, then place a kiss in the centre of his forehead, infusing it with as much love and strength as I can. “I wish I’d been there for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” he rasps, looking deep into my eyes. A moment’s silence passes before he clenches his jaw. “I almost killed my father.”

“I know,” I whisper, caressing his cheek as he does mine.

His brows gather. “I don’t mean figuratively. I literally almost killed the man with my bare hands. I’m capable of that. Can you accept that reality?”

I hitch a shoulder. “Under the circumstances, I’d think less of you if you hadn’t.”

A spark shines in Cole’s eyes, and it’s like the sun breaking through black clouds. “You’d think less of me if I hadn’t?” he repeats almost whimsically, with a smile itching at the corner of his mouth. He shakes his head, and a laugh bursts free from his throat, one mostly fuelled by tension and relief, but I laugh too because what else can you do? This world is a messy place, but I want to experience all that mess with him.

Twilight and the twinkling of street lights seep into the room, prompting Cole to reach behind his head to flip on the rocket lamp. “Do you miss it?” I ask.

“What, Benedict’s?”

I nod.

“No,” Cole says. “Is that bad? I finally feel like myself, and I never realised the willpower it took to be there every day. I mean, I can’t begrudge what I achieved, nor the money, but I’m looking forward to more balance—a life that better fits me. And besides, Benedict’s is in good hands. Perverted hands perhaps, but Mike Reynolds knows what he’s doing.”

“Alex’s Dad? He’s running Benedict’s?”

“That’s who the partners committee appointed.” Cole shrugs. “It’s okay. He became a little more tolerable when he finally stopped eye-fucking you.” I roll my eyes with a smirk, and Cole’s dimple shines. “It’s your turn now,” he says a moment later. “Time to tell me your sorry tale.”

“You mean the one in the file? The one you already know?” I quip.

Cole winces. “It’s briefer than you imagine. Clinical and nondescript. I want to hear it from you. From here.” He presses his palm to my heart, and any inklings of annoyance simply wash away.

“Do you still have it?” I ask. I hate the thought of anyone else seeing that file, Mike Reynolds included.

Cole nudges his chin towards his desk. “It’s locked in the filing cabinet right over there.”

I prop up a little. “Can I see it?”

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