Cole threatened to cancel Disney Plus right before I could hear his every stomp followed by the front door slamming so hard, it threatened to rattle the house down.
Every ugly word was expressed clear as day, drifting through the closed door like it wasn’t even there.
As if it were a set of bars.
Bars to a depressing prison cell, which is apropos, since it’s how Cole’s bedroom feels.
With my eyes shut tight and my breaths steady, I sense him walking around the bed to the adjoining loo. After long minutes of water turning on and off, the toilet flushing, and some other banging around, the bed dips behind me.
“I know you’re awake.”
I drag my eyes open and sigh.
“See?” He crawls in and I can tell he’s taking care by the way he’s moving, as if I’m made of crystal. Cole has never treated me as a breakable piece of china. He knows I can take him down. Or rather, I could before I was recovering from two surgeries. His fingertips drag up the skin of my bare arm like an erotic memory. “You can pretend all you want, sweetness. No one knows how you breathe while you’re sleeping but me. I used to lie awake for hours listening to you.”
“I’m not sure if that’s romantic or creepy.”
“Definitely creepy.” His fingers continue tormenting me with promises of what I know they can do. I focus on my pain as if it’s my life’s mission.
“Do you not have a divan or a cot? If I’m going to get out of here anytime soon, I need my rest and it’s impossible to sleep while you’re knocking around in the loo and taking up my bed space.”
He’s exasperated—I hear it in his sigh. “I could have ten extra beds and twenty sofas and I still wouldn’t allow you to sleep anywhere but next to me.”
I pull my arm away. “Then I’ll find another place to lay my head.”
“Quit being ridiculous and go to sleep. As much as I like having you here, I want you healthy so we can fix your problem.”
“I appreciate you digging to the pit of hell, but it still won’t keep me here.”
He yawns. “We’ll see about that. Do you need anything?”
I try not to groan as I roll to my back. “I need a lot of things, Cole. Some clothes would be nice. A phone.”
He sits up, grabs an extra pillow, and throws back the covers. “Put this under your knees. It’ll take the pressure off your back and abs. And I made a call. You’ll have clothes tomorrow.”
I exhale and close my eyes because his pillow is like a down-filled miracle. My pain pill is kicking in and my limbs are getting heavy. “I should give you a list of what I need.”
Leaning on his elbow, he looks down at me. “I know what you need.”
I open my eyes and glare at him through the shadowed room. “If you try to dress me in red lace while I feel like rubbish that’s been trampled on and thrown to the wolves, I promise you won’t fare well.”
He does something he’s only done once since I woke up in the hospital when he practically dared me to marry him—he smiles. It’s so genuine, it almost feels like old times. “You know how much I like you in red.”
I ignore him and my eyelids become heavier. “You’re hopeless. Black would be lovely. And I still need a phone.”
“You need to rest. And you need to lie low.”
“You know I’m not stupid enough to jeopardize my position. Get me something. An encrypted line, a sack full of burner phones—something. I have people to keep up with.”
When he doesn’t answer, I turn to him. His shadowed features are darker than normal, everything that drew me to him in the first place emanates through the dim room.
“Cole. I know you can get me what I need.”
His jaw ticks and he narrows his eyes. I know what that means.
He’ll give me what I want.
I close my eyes and sigh. “Thank you.”
I feel the bed move again and for the first time since I’ve known him, he leaves space between us. Not that I expected anything else in my condition, but it still feels odd.
I start to drift into a wonderful abyss where pain pills are floating clouds and my broken body is deliciously heavy—one with Cole’s soft bed. So much so, he sounds miles away and it doesn’t even make sense when I hear, “Get comfortable,