Page 107 of Muddy Messy Love

As the memories flood back, I jolt upright. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” I scan him up and down, taking inventory. His hair is wet and slicked back, light-caramel skin marred but clean. Pale-grey sweats sit low on his hips beneath ripples of muscle and jungle ink, and the sharp scent of antiseptic wafts from the nasty graze across his chest. He must have showered, then treated it. Shit, I should have done that for him last night. A decent girlfriend would have.

Wait…I look out the bedroom window. Vivid smears of orange and pink paint the horizon and silhouette the trees as the sun bids goodnight. …This morning. I should have done that for him this morning. How long was I out?

Cole offers a crooked smile, favouring his undamaged side. “Apart from someone forging steel in my head, better than I look or deserve.”

He looks amazing. He always does. “Have you taken something for the pain?”

He shakes his head and shrugs. “Physical pain never much bothered me. It’s the most tolerable kind.”

I stare at him, understanding exactly what he means.Pain that makes sense.

“I’m sorry about last night. And this morning,” he says, brushing his knuckles down my jaw. The gentle touch awakens my body. “You must have been worried.”

“Worried” is a gross understatement. “Freaking the absolute fuck out” barely falls in the vicinity. “Why didn’t you reply or phone me back?”

Cole winces. “At first, I couldn’t. Too angry. Then my phone died, and I was too drunk. I really am sorry.”

Scrubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sigh. “It’s okay. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” But my tone doesn’t quite match the sentiment, and he notices.

“It’s not okay, but forgive me anyway?Please.” With prayer hands and a tilt of his chin, Cole crumples his brows into adorable fuzzy caterpillars.

“Seriously?” I tsk. “You’re using scrunchy brows?” They’re a worthy rival to Jen’s puppy-dog eyes and pout. “You don’t play fair at all.”

Cole grins. “They always seem to work for Hannah. I’ve never had a reason to try them before. You’re my first.”

Smiling, I roll my eyes. “At least I’m your first something.” I climb to straddle his lap, then cup his stubbly cheeks and press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re my first lots of things,” he says when our eyes reconnect, all humour gone. My cheeks flush in response, and he squeezes my shoulders. “I truly am sorry.”

Dropping my gaze, I fiddle with the frayed ends of his drawstring. “My shitty judgement brought Slade into your lives. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Cole tenses. “Don’t blame yourself forhisactions. I let him off the hook once, but I won’t this time. You need to know that.”

Glancing up, I frown. “What does that even mean?”

“I’ve pressed charges.” Cole studies my face, awaiting a reaction. I remain impassive, so he continues. “He was on parole. Assault charges will land him back behind bars straight out of hospital.”

I swallow, waiting for the familiar rush of dread to come. It doesn’t. “He’s going back to jail?”

Cole offers a curt nod. “It was only a matter of time. For men like him, prison is a lifestyle.”

Men. Calling Slade a man is an undeserved compliment.

Cole’s hands dwarf my hips. “Are you upset?”

That question is more layered than Nerikomi pottery. I could simply say no, but instead, I consider the crux of the question—what Cole really wants to know.Do I still have romantic feelings for Slade?

I search every corner of my heart. No. But is there a microscopic part of me thrilled by Slade’s need for revenge? If the question even arises, there must be an element of truth.

Sheepishly, I meet Cole’s gaze. “A teeny part of me is flattered and relieved Slade cares enough to cause trouble. I didn’t think I ever meant that much, and I probably don’t. His bruised ego’s fuelled most of this, I’m guessing. But I hate what he’s done. I won’t miss him. I don’t blame you for what you did. I’m relieved he’s gone—that he can’t hurt anyone else. And there’s only one man I have feelings for.”

Colossal, transformative feelings.

The tension in Cole’s frame melts, and with a soft smile, he tucks away a wisp of my hair. His eyes flicker to my lips, then his inch towards mine, landing in a soft and languid kiss. Three small words long to fly from my mouth, but I clip their wings. It’s too soon.

Cole catches my bottom lip between his teeth as we part, but his post-kiss serenity slowly evaporates and morphs into a frown. “We need to tell Hannah the truth.”

I groan and drag a hand down the side of my face. “But she’ll be hurt, and I lied to her. She’ll hate me.”

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