Page 78 of Muddy Messy Love

Patience, Avery. Give it time.

Tej finishes the last gentle strums on his petite guitar as I plod back into the playroom. Nine out of eleven Mini-Bees lie asleep on the floor in a maze of gym mats, little limbs, and blue frog blankets.

When the elevator dings, my chin snaps to the shiny doors. An elderly gent exits, hobbling on his walking frame, and my heart sinks but not from empathy like it should. I drop my gaze to the ballet flats I’ve bitterly befriended and fiddle with the hem of my dress. Is it normal to miss someone this much? To pine and obsesseveryminute of the day? It’s been twenty-four hours, for fuck’s sake.

You’re a parasite, Avery Lee—hungry whenever you’re alone.

An icky shudder rolls through me. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I tell Tej as he approaches with his guitar, “Taylor” glinting across the headstock in gold. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

An easy smile crinkles around his eyes. “No worries. I’ll hold down the fort. Hannah will be back soon anyway.”

I wander down the terrazzo hall feeling oddly flat, and I don’t like it. My mood can’t be dictated by when I see or hear from Cole. I had a taste of that with Slade, and it’s not healthy, but mystupid head won’t quit. It’s consumed and jonesing for a Cole fix. I grit my teeth against the feeling. We all have our vices, I guess.

The unisex bathroom door opens with a falsetto creak, and I amble to the far end cubicle, lock the glossy black door, and slump on top of the toilet seat. I don’t need to go. I just need a few minutes to talk some dignity into myself—to remember the sun is shining today.

The bathroom door sings again, and slow footsteps sound across the honeycomb tiles. I wait another minute and flush to keep up the facade, then make my way to the long concrete vanity to wash my hands.

A presence looms behind me, but the second it registers, my scream is muffled by a hand, and I’m yanked back into a hard body. My frantic eyes dart to the mirror.

“Shhh,” he says. “It’s only me.”

I sag as the hot words tickle my ear and send shivers down my shoulder blades.Onlyhim. How can it beonlyhim when he is everything?

Cole’s spearmint gaze glimmers, and I spin to face him with a galloping heart. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

“Bejesus?” He quirks a brow, gripping my hips with his warm hands. “I expected an obscenity at least.”

“Eh.” I shrug. “Thought I’d try it on for size.”

“And how’d it feel?”

I crinkle my nose. “Fucking weird.”

Cole chuckles with that devilish, sideways grin. “I don’t actually mind your dirty mouth, Miss Masters.” He leans into my ear and lowers his voice. “In fact, I quite liked it.”

Liked. Past tense. And, yes, he certainly did. My cheeks flame at the reminder of what I did to him on that daybed cushion, but I also lick my lips. An action Cole seems to notice, according to his darkening stare and the way his nostrils flare. “I missed you,” he says.

“Me too,” I whisper. “I think I’m going mad.”

The corner of his mouth twitches back up, and he wipes away my frown with the pad of his thumb like I did to him under the stars. The fact he remembered makes me smile and ache to kiss him, so I wind his tie around my fist and yank his mouth to mine as I climb to my tiptoes. Cole smirks but complies, pressing me against the vanity as he knots a hand through my hair. I run mine over his shoulders and hum against his lips. He tastes like home and smells like heaven—a starlit, foresty heaven in the hills.

“Christ, I want you,” he whispers. He lifts me to sit off the vanity’s edge. Wedged between my legs, he grinds his erection against my core, making me gasp as he groans. He bites and kisses his way down my throat, tracing the Queen Anne neckline of my dress with his tongue down to where it dips between my breasts. His breaths grow heavier—his mouth greedier—and I grip his shoulders like I might float away, bunching his cotton shirt in my fists. I itch to tear it off him—to feel his naked skin burn under the scrape of my fingernails—but now isn’t the time.

Inhaling, Cole drags his nose up my neck. “You always smell so good. You have no idea.”

“So do you,” I breathe. “You’re like a drug.” I feel him smile against my jaw—the sandpaper scratch of his stubble.

“Is that so?” He trails his fingers up the inside of my thigh and tugs the crutch of my lace knickers to one side. “Are you wet for me, Aves?”

Blood charges through my veins and ignites every nerve ending. “Always.”

His belt buckle jangles, but reality creeps back in. “Wait,” I whisper. “Anyone could walk in.”

Cole tears open a condom wrapper with his teeth, cocking a brow. “And?”

“They’ll see us.”

Rolling it on, he leans in. “And?” When my spine stiffens, Cole gently laughs. “Don’t worry. I locked the door.”

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