Page 48 of Best Laid Plans
I run my hands up the length of her bare thighs, letting my fingers roam underneath her cut-off jean shorts. I can feel her arch back into me, and I groan when her ass presses into my dick. I want her again.
“I think we should go back to my place before we get ticketed for indecent exposure,” I whisper in her ear.
“We’re still clothed.” She cocks her head with a twinkle in her eye as she whispers back.
“I know, but I’m seconds away from stripping you down naked, and I think we should be in private for that.”
Brooke laughs, then lets me pull her up so we can race the few blocks back to my place.
28
Brooke
“Do you know where my bra is?” I pull my tank top over my head, without the missing garment.
Cole lowers the glass he was chugging water from to respond.
“It might be in the couch.”
He smiles as he watches me pull on my shorts and zip them up, eyeing me hungrily, like a man who didn’t just bend me over his couch. I move back toward the living room, but Cole quickly intercepts. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he lifts me onto the kitchen counter, next to the flowers I painstakingly arranged for fifteen minutes while Cole begrudgingly watched. I was waiting for the spermicidal film to take effect, and needed to buy myself some time. I don’t know exactly why I bought the flowers. Cole’s apartment needed more color. Flowers are always nice because they only last a few weeks and can easily be changed out. They’re temporary.
He’s still shirtless and I’m forced to palm the warm skin covering his muscular shoulders to balance myself.
“We can grill steaks, or do you want to order in? No bras required.” Cole winks and my stomach does that jittery somersault thing that’s usually reserved for the first drop on a rollercoaster or the last twenty-five percent of a John Grisham thriller, but I’m also starting to associate with Cole looking at me.
“Dinner? I feel like we just ate lunch.”
Cole laughs. “That was five hours ago.”
I glance at the clock, and am shocked to see it’s already seven o’clock. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between Cole’s healthy banana pancakes, our aimless wandering around the neighborhood, and lazy afternoon in the park, I forgot to be disgruntled by all the time we were spending together and started enjoying Cole’s company. That’s when it hits me. All day with Cole, I haven’t been feeling like a horny, sex-crazed maniac. He can still make me wet with a single look, but my hormones must have leveled out with all the stimulation my body has received courtesy of Cole. I smile, knowing that I’ve gotten exactly what I came for. Hot, toe-curling sex that I will be able to fantasize about when I’m pregnant with Ellie and Josh’s baby. I feel like a new woman. I’m a genius. Everything is working out perfectly.
But when my gaze returns to Cole’s to find his intense, yet comforting blue eyes scanning my face, a knot forms in my belly. Okay, maybe genius isn’t the right word. In the midst of seeking relief for my overactive libido, my brain didn’t exactly think through this whole thing. I agreed to Cole’s date request with the sole focus being to have sex with him, but didn’t think about the implications of getting to know more than his body. The sex last night and today was amazing, but more than that, I found myself really liking him, as more than a giver of orgasms.
And there lies the problem. I don’t want to like him. I’ve got plans that don’t involve a sexy doctor. My life right now is a bit complicated, nothing like Cole’s put together one. If I stay, we’ll eat steak and snuggle on the couch, and have more amazing sex, and then I’ll never want to leave. But, I have to leave. I got what I came for, and Cole seemed to enjoy himself, too, so I can’t really feel bad for him.
So, when he’s staring at me now, massaging my thigh with his thumb and waiting for my answer, I think of the only logical response.
“Actually, I can’t stay.” The second the words leave my mouth, they feel hollow, forced, like I didn’t really plan to say them. But they’re out there now and it’s for the best.
Cole opens his mouth to say something, but stops short, then nods. “Okay.”
He moves back a little, so I can slide off the counter, then I head for his bedroom to get my stuff. Cole follows.
“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I have to do.” I make a non-committal shrug because keeping things vague is always best. “Some stuff around my apartment…I’ve been putting off for a while and, um, need to get done.”
Vague is one thing, but lame is another. My rambling excuse is completely unconvincing. I half expect Cole to push back and persuade me to stay. If he only knew that it wouldn’t take much convincing. I gather my bag from the chair in the corner. When I turn around Cole is there with my missing bra. I almost expected him to hide some of my stuff or some cute shit to get me to stay. Maybe I even wanted him to in some way.
“Thanks.” I take it from him and toss it in my bag. There’s no way I’m going to attempt to put it on right now. With my warring thoughts and uncertain emotions, I just need to get out of this place.
It takes me a moment to realize that Cole is fine with me not staying. He even retrieves my makeup bag from the bathroom and hands it to me. I don’t know why, I guess I thought there would be more of a resistance. He doesn’t have to drop to his knees and beg, but a simple ‘I’d really like you to stay’ would have been sufficient. It’s the hormones, I convince myself. They’re making everything feel off balance. Making me think I want things that I know I really don’t.
The truth is I’m a liar who lies. I don’t have anything to do at home, but I don’t like what it means if I stay the night with him again. It means I like him. That I’ve been with him for twenty-four hours. In. A. Row. Which is a really long time to be hanging out with someone, and still want to continue hanging out with them. Besides, I’m not some needy girl who attaches herself to a guy and lets him become the only thing she cares about. We went on one date. I’ve got a life and things to do. I’m keeping it cool, casual and easy breezy as usual. So why am I feeling off about all of this…
* * *
On the drive to my apartment, Cole chats about all the construction going on in the Highlands neighborhood, how nice the new bike lanes are. I can’t even focus on the conversation, my head is a mess of contradictions, as I convince myself that if he really liked me he’d try harder to spend time with me, but I’d still have to turn him down because this is all for the best. He doesn’t say anything about seeing each other again, he just opens the passenger door and gives me a kiss on the cheek, which is fine, because that was my plan anyway. I’m glad that I didn’t have to deal with any of the awkwardness of making future plans that I don’t intend to keep. As I key in the code to the building, I hear him drive off and turn to see him rounding the corner. So what? That’s what I wanted—what the hell is wrong with me? In my apartment, I head straight to my bedroom to unpack my bag, hoping to dispel any remaining evidence of my date with Cole. Once the contents of my bag are dumped onto my bed, I move quickly, tossing shoes into my closet, putting toiletries back into my bathroom, and throwing dirty clothes in my hamper. Finally, I’m done. Except there’s one item that doesn’t have a place. Cole’s t-shirt. It must have gotten tossed in my bag when I changed out of it this morning. Before I can fight against the urge, it’s in my hands and I’m holding it up to my nose. It smells like fresh laundry with Cole’s masculine scent and a hint of pancakes. I shove it under my pillow, after assuring myself I will not sleep in it tonight.
With all my baggage unpacked, I head to my tiny kitchen to make a cup of noodle soup for dinner, then plop down on my sofa to read a book.
