12. Dana

Chapter 12

Dana

M y body was on fucking fire.

Cole's hand slid from between my thighs and out of my jeans. In the low light of the janitor's closet, I watched as he sucked his two middle fingers into his mouth, licking every little drop of me off of them. My cheeks heated.

This wasn't a good idea and I fucking knew that, but he was too good at dragging me down with him.

"Cole," I breathed, my legs shaky and my mind fully in a haze. Think straight. Come on.

"You have no fucking idea how good you taste," he grunted. He wiped his saliva-covered hand on the inside of his suit jacket.

"Cole, stop," I said, my voice far weaker than I intended. His body went rigid for a split second before he took a step back, releasing me entirely, and I took that moment to catch my breath and try to organize my thoughts.

I was in dangerous territory. The need for him was growing stronger, and even though I'd tried to keep my distance, it wasn't going away. A part of me was terrified of this becoming a regular thing—if the rumor of him being in rehab was true, I knew the likelihood of relapse. I knew every part of this journey from the ten or so times my Mom had tried to conquer it and failed.

And I didn't want Drew anywhere around it.

But another part of me was desperate for a proper connection with the father of my child. And a deeper, guiltier part of me was screaming to tell him that Drew was his son so that he could have a father figure.

"Was that…?"

I shook my head. "It's fine. I would have fought you if I didn't want it," I rasped, pushing the little stray hairs that had fallen from my ponytail out of my face. "I just…. This shouldn't happen here."

Cole's eyes went wide for a second as he watched me fumble for my phone in the darkness. I checked the time, I still had ten minutes before my tour. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that was really fucking obvious," I said. "If this is going to happen here, we need to be discreet. I don't want to get shit from my coworkers."

"If they give you shit, I'll talk to them?—"

"No. No. I don't want them to give me shit in the first place. I don't want them to know . You talking to them will only make things worse."

"Right. Fine." His expression turned sour as he reached for the door handle, but then he paused. "Why did you leave?"

I blinked at him. Well, I guess we were having that conversation here in the janitor's closet. I could only avoid it for so long. "I wasn't feeling well," I lied.

His brows knitted together as he flicked on the light. His cheeks were tinted pink, his lips swollen from kissing me. "Why didn't you just wake me up?"

"I didn't want to bother you with it."

"You couldn't have just texted me to let me know? I mean, you've been dodging me at every opportunity?—"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," I pressed. "We're not really a thing, so I felt weird about it. I figured we'd just go back to being awkward again and figure it out from there." It wasn't entirely a lie, even though I did want more. But there was only so much more I could handle while keeping things from him. "Unless you want it to be a thing?"

"Is it bad if I want to see you more often?" he asked, the corner of his lip twitching up into a smirk. "I mean, I don't want to just fuck you and abandon you."

"What does that even mean, though?" I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable. "I have things I have to consider here, Cole. Future plans and people in my life. I have responsibilities. I can't just fuck you whenever you want it then go about my day-to-day life, especially when what happened between us still hangs over my head every time I see you."

Everything about him softened at my words. "I'm sorry about that," he sighed. "Genuinely. I was at a fucking low point in my life and I burned a lot of bridges because of it. I'm working on myself and I'm doing a lot better, but I never wanted you to get hurt."

I eyed him warily. Working on myself. He seemed sincere, but they were quick, easy words. Words that didn't erase what he'd said before. I needed time to think over his apology before actually accepting it. "Look, I have a tour in a few minutes and I need to get out there. But maybe we can talk about it later, okay?"

He watched me for a moment before letting out a breath and opening the door, gesturing to it. "Alright."

————

I'd spent nearly every second of the three consecutive tours far too deep inside my head. Every thought was either a replay of how he touched me or a panic about how I was going to make this work, if I even wanted to make it work. I could only hide Drew for so long, and soon enough, Cole would find out and do the math. Every fucking day, he was starting to look more and more like his father.

The easiest solution was to just tell him. I knew that, knew it would solve the majority of my problems, even if it created new ones. What if he wants to be actively involved? What if the rumors are true? Do I want Drew to have a father who's an alcoholic?

And if he didn't want to be involved, what then? Continue working for him indefinitely while raising his son, occasionally sleeping with him, and pretending that Drew didn't exist for his sake? No fucking way. I couldn't do that.

I leaned against his office door, resting my head on it. I had no idea what to fucking do.

"Busy," a voice called from the other side of the wood.

I stood up straight. I didn't realize he'd hear that. "It's me."

"Then come in."

I turned the knob and slid through the narrow opening I gave myself, shutting it quickly behind me. Cole stood facing away from me, his black suit so neatly pressed it was infuriating. He gazed out the window that faced the start of the Rocky Mountains, a cup of black coffee in his hand, his body motionless as the sun slipped beneath the top of the slopes.

"Hey." I hesitated before moving toward him, just a step.

"You done for the day?" he asked, turning his head slightly, just enough to look at me over his shoulder.

"No, but I've got about an hour before the next tour. I figured we could talk properly, not in a closet."

He turned to me fully, gesturing to the plush chair I'd sat in before in front of his desk.

"Do we have to do it over your desk?" I asked. The double meaning hit me and my cheeks flushed. "I'd much rather this be informal."

A hint of a smile cracked through his demeanor, and he set his coffee down before stepping around the massive piece of oak to my side. He leaned back on it, resting his rear against the edge. "Whatever you want."

I crossed my arms over my chest, my vest tugging at the back and reminding me just where I stood when it came to him. "It's going to take me some time to forgive you," I said, the words feeling like ash on my tongue. "And I'm not getting into a full-blown relationship with you. Not after that."

He took a deep breath and watched me, giving me a little nod. "That's fair. And to be clear, I wasn't asking for a full-blown relationship, Dana."

"I know. But I have to think about what could happen down the line, and that's not something I'm comfortable with," I explained, the rawness of it feeling way too personal to say out loud. "But I also don't want to avoid you or to avoid… this."

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"Can we just start over?" I asked. I rubbed the top of my left arm, squeezing it just a little to calm me down. "Forget what happened a year ago and be cordial."

Something shifted in his eyes, but I couldn't quite tell what it was. "Can you do that?"

"I can try," I offered. "We can just be normal. I won't avoid you. And then, whatever happens, happens. I'm not going to pretend like I'm not attracted to you or that I don't want to be around you because we both know that's a lie, and you can do the same. But let's not put any expectations on it. That way, we don't end up in a relationship."

He huffed out a chuckle, his fingers trailing the rim of his mug. "That seems like a lot of steps just to let me touch you, Dana."

"Are you okay with it or not?" I deadpanned.

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay with that."

"Great." I shifted to my feet, unsure of where to go from there. I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

My gaze snapped right back to those annoyingly piercing green eyes. "I was planning on going out to Lottie's, maybe go riding. I haven't really had the time lately with the whole new job thing." And the four-month-old baby. "Why?"

He eyed me carefully before shifting onto his feet and taking a step toward me. "I'll come with," he said. "I've been meaning to see Lottie anyway."

"Are you inviting yourself?"

He grinned as he took another step, getting uncomfortably close. "Is that a problem?"

Is it? I thought for a moment. It wasn't necessarily bad, but it meant I couldn't bring Drew for a playdate. But I could use a day out and about without him, and I knew Vee would happily watch him. "No, it's not."

He leaned in closer, his face just an inch from mine, and my heart leaped in my chest. He'd been this close earlier, it shouldn't affect me. But it did. "This will be good," he breathed, his lips pressing lightly against my cheek and lingering a second too long. "A fresh start."

I could only hope that I could keep Drew a secret for a little while longer.