39. Cole

Chapter 39

Cole

G rayson sat beside me in the foldable plastic chairs in the center of a middle school gymnasium, joining in as I clapped for the man who had just spoken about a lifetime of battling addiction after addiction. He was two months sober for the first time in his adult life, and every clap I made was half for him and half for the version of myself that I was both times I hit that milestone. It was hard, and he deserved every ounce of recognition.

I wanted to speak but I'd struggled to find the right moment to share my story. I wasn't often one to talk during meetings, and the regulars of this group knew that by now, skipping over me with ease as they jumped from person to person.

I opened my mouth but the leader of the meeting spoke before I had the chance to. "I think that about wraps it up for this evening," Emily said. She was still my sponsor, still my guiding light in a storm that seemed to be raging less often nowadays. Now and then I'd find myself wondering if maybe I was just in the eye of it, destined to deal with the second half and swim my way out.

"Wait," I said.

Every single eye turned to me.

"If it's okay, if you guys have time, I'd like to share."

No one moved.

"Cool. Great," I mumbled, pushing myself to my feet while wiping the sweat off my hands on my jeans.

I cleared my throat, glancing down at Grayson's wide-eyed grin for support, before beginning.

"I, uh, I started drinking when I was ten," I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "I watched my father do it when he was stressed or upset or when I'd misbehaved. I saw it on the shelf, and I was worried about a vocabulary test I had the next day at school, I remember that like it was yesterday. I remember the way it tasted when I took a sip and spat it into the bathroom sink, horrified that my father was able to down it. But then I tried again, and again, and eventually, it made its way down my throat."

Gray's hand wrapped around my forearm, giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance before letting go.

"It spiraled quicker than I could have imagined," I continued. "At thirteen, rather than deal with their son's growing problem, my parents dropped me at my aunt's house two states away. Bless her, she loved me regardless, and together we managed to get it down to a normal teenage level."

I swallowed, my throat feeling far too dry. Water. I need water.

"I spiraled again when she died. Drowned in it for about a year before figuring out how to be stable while drinking. I could drink through the night, kill the hangover with a buzz, and start again. Always right on the edge, only occasionally letting myself go on full benders. I went years like that, running my business, making connections, making friends, and I can't remember a single fully sober moment of any of it?—"

The doors of the gym opened, and although we were told to not pay any mind if people passed through during the meetings, I couldn't ignore this one.

"I…"

Hazel eyes watched me from across the room, smudges of mascara below them. It was the first time seeing them in a year and I took in a deep breath as Gray found my arm again, not letting go this time. "It's okay," he whispered.

I wiped my mouth from the nerves, massaging the muscles of my jaw. "I met someone," I faltered, the words I'd rehearsed in my mind jumbling together, reworking, rewiring. She's here. "And there was… there was something about her from the moment we met, something I knew I needed to pursue. But I fucked it up, royally, and I spiraled again, worse than the first time. I landed in a rehab facility out in LA for six months with help from my friends."

The doors opened again, and a slightly shorter frame stepped through, one arm reaching out to her. "Dana, we can't just, shit," Lottie whispered harshly. She grabbed for Dana's arm, but Dana took a step away from her, cementing herself in the room.

"She gave me another chance without knowing any of my problems when I returned." I closed my eyes, trying to recenter myself without seeing her gaze. "Things had changed, though. She had a child—a son. She had a life. And despite how easily I found it to slot myself in, everything else around me began to crumble, and my sobriety was teetering. It was the first time I'd ever tried to be completely sober, and I didn't know what I was doing, how to handle it, or how to get through the hard days. And the hard days just kept piling on."

I opened my eyes, meeting hers again, and it was like everything else fell away. No circle of chairs, no Gray by my side, no sponsor watching me, no gymnasium. Just her, too far away, and me.

"I slipped. I slipped and fell and ended up so far down a hole that I didn't know how to climb back out. I'd never fallen so hard before. It was a miracle I didn't drink myself to death. I had a child, now, and I had a vision for what I wanted my life to be, and I watched through a pinhole as it all crumbled, as I turned into my father. I couldn't be what I needed to be for either of them, and so I had to let go."

A knot formed in the back of my throat. I hadn't imagined it being this hard, but I also hadn't in my wildest dreams imagined she'd be standing across the room from me when I did it.

"She had so much on her plate," I croaked. "I couldn't be the father I needed to be, and she had to make the tough call on whether to allow me around our son. And ultimately, she was right. I wasn't safe." I sniffled, pushing down the crowd's stares as they slowly built up again until it was just us, "My fucking friend died, and after seeing someone sprawled out on my floor, no pulse, no breathing, because they'd choked on their own vomit after passing out from alcohol poisoning, I could have easily gone back down the hole. It was already there, neatly dug and waiting for me, but I didn't. I chose not to. I climbed out instead."

A single clap almost made me laugh.

"I'm sorry, Angie, I'm almost done," I said, huffing out a chuckle. She turned in her chair, crossed her wrinkled arms across her chest, and sat back. "I did it right this time, but I faltered. The night before my son's birthday, I drank myself stupid, cursing myself for not being strong enough to be there for it. But when morning came, when I realized that I could survive the day, I didn't want to lose it again. I picked myself up and I tried again. I gave myself grace, but I didn't need it in the end."

Dana's shaking hands covered her mouth, her hazel eyes sparkling with what I could only assume were tears. My lips twitched up at the edges as I jumbled the words around again in my mind, picking and choosing what I'd keep and what I wouldn't.

"For the woman I love endlessly, I stayed sober. For my son, I stayed sober. And most importantly, for myself , I stayed sober. One year ago today, I made that choice. And for the first time since I was ten, I can proudly say that I can't see myself ever touching it again."

The dullest round of applause echoed through the stupidly large space, but I didn't care.

I didn't care about the chip Emily would give me.

I didn't care about Grayson's pride.

I didn't care about Angie being the only one not clapping.

The only thing I cared about was the woman my body was already moving toward, the one I physically shoved a man-filled chair out of the way for.

She moved, too, stepping toward me, the tears streaming down her face almost making her look like some kind of horror show from the mascara, but I didn't care. I'd love horror shows for the rest of my fucking life.

Her body met mine and I wrapped my arms around her waist, digging my fingers into her, feeling her for the first time in almost a year. I held her close, a little sob breaking through as she buried herself in the crook of my neck.

I'd spent the last year of my life feeling better and better, but not a single moment of it compared to the way it felt to hold her, to have her, to touch her, even if it was only for tonight. For a moment, even. I'd take it over nothing.

"Is this part of the speech?" Angie griped.

"Shut up, Angela," Gray hissed.

I gently took her by the back of her neck, forcing her to look up at me, and pressed my lips to hers before she could change her mind. I let her go only briefly, only to take her face in my hands instead, and swiped my thumbs under her eyes. Her lips parted, and my heart nearly imploded.

————

"So you're not riding back with me?" Lottie laughed as she pulled open the door of her Range Rover. I spun my newly-gained gold chip between my fingers as the remnants of the meeting attendees left the gymnasium, my arm firmly around Dana as I held her to my chest.

Dana lifted her middle finger to Lottie in reply.

I chuckled into the top of her head and tightened my grip. I couldn't find it in me to let go of her, not yet. I didn't know how long it would last, and although I didn't want to tempt fate, I couldn't help but feel like maybe, hopefully , this was the time I'd been waiting for.

I opened the rear door of my Maybach for her and she turned to look up at me with one brow raised. She still looked like a mess— my mess. "In," I grinned.

"The back?"

I slipped into the seat and lifted the center console, turning it into a singular long cushion that stretched the width of the car. "In, Dana," I said again, and within seconds, she was climbing in behind me and shutting the door.

I didn't have to tell her what I wanted.

She crawled into my lap, her jeans stretching as she sat astride me. Her lips met mine, and fuck, she tasted just as I remembered, just as I'd craved for almost a year, maybe even my entire life.

Over and over, she kissed me. Over and over, she drank me in, her hands exploring more than just my neck and face. She pulled each button of my shirt, pushing until the collar gave way and hung from my shoulders, the fabric clinging to my arms and keeping its hold from where I'd tucked it in. I let her call the shots for once, eager to not take her a step too far, but she seemed just as desperate for me as I was for her.

Her forehead rested against mine as she lifted herself onto her knees, just barely gaining a height advantage while she pulled my shirt from my slacks. "You can see him," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "Whenever you want, Cole, you can see him. Surprise him for his birthday. It's okay if we have to wake him up."

God, it felt so much better to hear that than I thought it would.

I slid my hand beneath the back of her shirt, lifting, pulling, until it was free and lost somewhere on the floor of my car.

"Please tell me you mean that," I murmured. I kissed the side of her jaw, kissed her chin, trailed my tongue down the front of her throat as she let out a sigh that melted my fucking bones.

"I mean it."

"You won't change your mind again?" I bit at her skin by her collarbone as I pulled the straps of her bra down, unfastening it with one quick twist around the back, watching it fall and leaving her bare from the waist up. Not enough. Need more. Need her.

"Not a fucking chance."

Without thinking, I shifted gears, taking her face in my hands instead and holding her just an inch from my face. Her eyes fluttered open, and I dragged my thumbs under them again, brushing away the little flecks of mascara I hadn't quite gotten before.

"Cole—"

"I love you." The words rolled off my tongue so easily, as if they'd always been there. I'd had a year to prep them, longer than that if I was being honest with myself. There wasn't a hint of anxiety that held me back. "And I've waited far too long to say that to you."

Her lower lip shook but she stilled it, clamping down on it with her upper teeth. But I caught the flash of dampness in her eyes before she closed them, breaking free of my hold to press her lips to mine again. "I love you too," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't make you feel safe enough to say it sooner."

Relief flooded my system as I wrapped her in my arms, shifting us, laying her down across the plush leather so I could get to work on her jeans. A skirt would have been so much easier. I kissed my way down her chest as I popped open the button, taking my sweet fucking time on the zipper while dragging my tongue across each breast. They seemed smaller than they were before, and I briefly wondered if it was a side effect of stopping breastfeeding before her hips were rising, helping me get her out of the dreaded pants.

"You didn't drink the night you left my house?" she asked, and I wondered if it was really the time to get into that as I clung to the front of her underwear with my teeth.

I barked out a laugh as I released them, opting to use my hands instead. "I didn't."

"You got sober on his birthday," she said, the happy tears springing to life again.

"You're just now realizing that?" I couldn't help but grin at her as I pushed down the open front of my slacks, letting my aching cock spring free against her. She lifted her legs for me, granting me access, and oh my god , she was soaked already. I could have fucking cried at the sight.

"There's a lot going on today, okay?" she chuckled, wiping her eyes as she settled herself against me, her skin catching on the leather.

Quickly, desperately, I slid myself inside of her, unable to wait a single second longer.

"Oh my god," I groaned, crowding her as I bottomed out, every single muscle of hers clenching around me. "Christ, baby."

The shit-eating grin she flashed me was almost enough to turn me feral. "Overwhelming?" she cooed, one hand reaching up and cupping my cheek.

"Look, it may have been a year since I've had a drink, but it's been longer since I've been inside you . " Already, the pleasure of her was making my head spin, and I lifted her instead, deciding I couldn't be fucking bothered trying to maneuver around the cupholders. I wanted her flush to me, and that was only going to happen one way, with her on top. "Or anyone, for that matter," I added.

The moan that dragged from her as she seated herself on every inch of me made me impossibly hard. Without hesitation, she started moving her hips, her breasts brushing against my bare chest.

I'd be lucky if I made it five fucking minutes with her after being without her for so long, after so much need and desperation had built up. But she was just as needy as me.

"Touch me," she demanded, her lips brushing against mine with every movement she made. I obliged, slipping my fingers between us, searching and finding that little bundle of nerves and circling it.

She moaned again, and I wanted to fucking fill her.

I guided her hips with my other hand, forcing her to pick up her speed, melting beneath her with every swipe of her lips against mine. Already I could feel my release tightening in my lower stomach, demanding I let it loose. But I wouldn't. Not until she was falling over the edge, too. I wanted to come undone with her, wanted to lose myself with her, wanted to feel the walls of her close in around my cock and milk me for every drop I had.

I watched as her eyes rolled, as her lips parted, as each breath came quicker and quicker. I kept my pace with one hand, digging my fingers into her flesh with the other. "So fucking perfect," I said, nudging her jaw with the tip of my nose. "So fucking beautiful."

Her cheeks reddened and her sounds hit a peak as the walls of her began to close in.

"Show me how pretty you are when you come," I said. "Show me what I've been missing."

Her nails dug into my chest as every muscle in her body locked. I bucked my hips up into her, burying myself deep, losing my goddamn mind in her, and the moment her piercing shriek broke through, pleasure ripped through my abdomen, taking me right down with her.