Page 38 of A Foster Fling

He’s fucking beautiful.

I crept back out unnoticed and went to my room, lying there for hours, trying to fall asleep before the sun came up. Just like all the other nights, I just tossed and turned, not getting a wink of sleep.

I haven’t slept right since that night.

The nightmares keep me awake.

They start out the same; me finally kissing Cole, enjoying every second that moment had to give, followed by the earth-shatteringBANG. Then seeing Gabe lying completely unrecognizable in a puddle of his own blood. The loud screams coming from Cole and the look of pure terror on his face as I held him back from the room where his brother lay lifeless, waiting until his mom and the police arrived.

I relive that day over and over in my sleep. Now, I just stay up for days until my body crashes. It’s been four days since the last time I was actually able to get some sleep. I know it’s coming soon, I just hope it happens when I’m alone.

As I’m lying in bed, thinking about my past and how it’s staring me in the face once more, someone knocks on my door.

“Yeah?” I call out, sitting up and rubbing my restless face.

“I’m headed to the Grocery store, do you need anything?” Ms. Harris asks.

“No, thanks.” I give her a small smile. She looks at me, sadness skating across her features for a moment before it turns into a smile.

“I’ll be back. Cole should be home soon. I’ll call you boys when I get back to help bring in the bags.” With that, she leaves, shutting the door behind her. I decide to shower and take advantage of being alone.

This house is always quiet. I’ve been here for almost a week and there is never any sound unless it’s from someone coming or going. I don’t remember it being that way before, but the past has a way of silencing the future, even though it does nothing more than scream.

After my shower, I head down to the kitchen in nothing but my boxers. I figured I could make myself something to eat real quick, before anyone gets back and sees me. As I’m opening the fridge to get a bottle of water, the front door opens and shuts.

“I’m home!” Cole shouts—I’m assuming to his mom because there is no way he would be saying that to me. He has a grudge against me for something I had no control over. It should piss me off, but if he needs someone to blame for what happened, he can blame me.

I crack open the water, take a sip, and wait. Cole enters the kitchen, then stops dead, looking me over for a split second. Something I can’t quite place crosses his face before it hardens, erasing whatever was on the surface just moments before.

I smirk as he looks at me.Time to play.

Chapter Twelve

Cole

I had another dream last night. Just as vivid as the one before. But this, nothing compares to this. The real life version that’s standing in front me. The muscle, subtle tan lines, and jaw dropping smirk. When I left this morning to run off my dream, I didn’t expect to come home and see this in the kitchen.

I want to hate the boy in front of me, but right now, he’s making it hard to. He carries too much of my past with him for me not to.Right?

“See something you like?” he asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.

I do. Fuuuuck I do.I don’t show it, though.

“Put some clothes on,” I remark, fully walking into the kitchen, placing my backpack on the island. “—and clean this shit up. Don’t leave a mess for my mom to clean up later.”

I walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. When I close it, Liam puts his sandwich down.

“Why are you so bitter?” He pushes himself off the counter he was leaning on and saunters toward me.

“Fuck off.”

Liam circles me like I’m a wounded seal. He’s the shark with sharp teeth waiting to sink them into me. It’s turning me on the way he’s treating me like I’m his prey. I should hate this. I should push him away and go to Derek’s, get as far away as I possibly can. But I’m rooted in place, my body craving this moment ever since he first kissed me. Like it knows that he’s about to finish what we started all those years ago.

He stops right behind me, his body mere inches away. Leaning forward, he whispers, “what will make you feel better?”

“You can’t,” I lie.

“I can’t what?” he questions, circling me again. As he passes around me, his fingers graze my cock, making it harder than it already is.

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