27. Cole

Blaise sleeps on my chest, his legs tangled in mine. Soft, slow breaths fall from his lips, and his hair goes in all directions.

He went out with his friends last night and woke me up by sliding under my covers, still fully clothed, and passed out before I could even ask him what he was doing. Like it was normal to just…sleep beside each other.

I like it.

I shouldn’t like it.

Because our parents are married. And when they find out—if they find out—shit will hit the fan. I’ll get the blame. I manipulated him, coerced him into bed with me. I forced myself on him. The big brother who was supposed to protect him, preferred to chase him through the woods and make him submit, at the same time as doing this…

His arms are wrapped around my body while I run my fingers through his sweaty hair. The scent of him keeps me in place. Feeling him against me, around me, makes me refuse to get up and take a piss or decide to make breakfast again.

I told him the minor details about my life before meeting him. I even showed him the shitty house I grew up in, and he didn’t grimace or judge or run away from me. He took me to his safe place, kissed me in the sea, and then we stayed on the beach until the sun dropped into darkness.

I came back to loads of missed calls from my mom, telling me they’re staying at their hotel for a few more days and to make sure I tidy my room, do my laundry, make things right with Allie—which I definitely won’t—and to ensure Blaise gets to college and practice on time.

I think she forgets I’m only twenty.

As if he’s not eighteen and waking up in my arms.

He lifts his head a little, blinking up at me, then groans and buries his head back down into my chest. “It’s too early for you to be looking at me like that.”

I snort. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

He groans again. Then falls back to sleep.

I don’t realize I fall back to sleep too until I blink awake and I’m pinned beneath Blaise’s large, muscular body. His thigh is between mine, chest to chest, with his face pressed to my throat.

Trying to slide from under him so I can get to the bathroom, he tightens around me. With a shake of his head, he kisses the side of my neck. “Don’t move.”

“I’m seconds from pissing all over you. If that’s not a kink of yours, then I highly suggest you let me go.”

His head lifts, staring down at me. “Come straight back to bed.”

Shifting from under him until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, I breathe, needing to cool down. The room is hot as hell and being glued to him has me feeling like a furnace.

Once I relieve myself and turn on the shower, I stick my head out to see Blaise sitting up against the headboard, only in his boxers, and checking his phone. His brows are knitting together, and I wonder if it’s Mia.

She told me she loved Blaise too. Will she try to get back with him? Will she worm her way back into his heart?

It’s not as if she did anything wrong. Her and Blaise were good together before she magically had this weird fascination with me, which I only made worse by fucking her mouth while Blaise took her from behind.

I keep the thoughts at bay while I shower, coming out of the bathroom in a towel to see Blaise still frowning at his phone.

“Everything okay?”

He quickly shuts off his phone and glances up at me. “Yeah. Just some of the guys wanting to head out again tonight. I said I was busy.”

I step forward. “Are you busy?”

“I could be,” he says quietly. “What are your plans?”

I shrug, making my way to the dresser to grab boxers and sweats. Dropping the towel, I give him a view of my ass, and then conceal it within my clothes. I turn to see his eyes lowered.

“Stop checking me out.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, sliding off the bed and kind of hovering for a bit. Running his hand through his hair, he then glances between the bed and the door. “I better…” He gulps, looking at me. “I’m gonna shower and get dressed.”

I nod once, and he’s out of the room like a fire lit under his ass.

Nervous Blaise makes butterflies go nuts inside of me. Seeing him all flustered, all anxious, fidgety, and unsure of his next steps, brings me joy in the best way.

Once I’m fully dressed and downstairs, I clean up and fill the dishwasher. Transferring wet laundry to the dryer and grabbing the vacuum. Mom got some workers over to fix the house, and as much as she cleaned and cleaned, sawdust and flakes from the plastering are still sitting around. I try to get most of it, ending up throwing off my shirt from sweating.

I turn off the vacuum and drop onto the sofa. How the fuck does my mom do this every damn day? I’m two hours in and feel like I could sleep for weeks.

Blaise comes downstairs, freshly washed and wearing jeans and a sweater. He’s fixed his unruly hair, and the shirt he has under his sweater nearly covers the hickey I gave him. Nearly.

I smirk at my work of art as he drops onto the sofa in front of me.

“I told my friends I’d meet them at eight. It’s been a while.”

Staring at him, I don’t grace him with a reply. He shouldn’t feel the need to explain to me if he wants to see his friends. I’ll just do the same. I need to talk to them all anyway about Jackson and the position I’m now in with them all. Samson and Keith are talking to me as normal, some of the jocks sending me memes or screenshots of shit Jackson has been saying, so I know there’s no bad blood against me for smashing the window to get me and Blaise out of Keith’s house.

I want to ask him if he plans on telling his friends about us. That we’re…messing around? Seeing how it goes? Testing the line to see where we can cross despite our family ties?

Is he my boyfriend? Fuck toy?

“I have a question,” I say, and I see all the color drain from his pretty face. He straightens his spine, grabbing his knees, waiting for me to keep going.

“How many times has my dad called?”

He chews his lip and drops his gaze, thinking to himself. Maybe he’ll make up a lie, or he’ll be honest. Who knows. But his silence is deafening.

“Tell me, Blaise,” I say. “I deserve to know.”

“He just wanted to talk to you.”

I tilt my head. “That’s all? He never said anything else?”

“He doesn’t like me very much, or my dad,” he replies. “I think I probably made him angrier, but I didn’t want him getting anywhere near you. If he hurt you again, I would end up behind bars.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

My nostrils flare, and my jaw tics as I sit forward, leaning my elbows on my knees. “Going forward, don’t you dare put yourself in his firing line. He’ll come for you if you try to stop him. I’ll deal with him. He’s all talk anyway.”

The invisible scars on my mentality are screaming that I’m a liar. The physical damage to my skin is burning. He’s not all talk. He’s all fists and words and laughing at the way he hurts everyone around him. I can still see him grabbing Mom’s hair and smashing her into the wall. And how I laid beside her for hours until she woke back up and acted like nothing had happened.

I can feel the sharpness of the blade hacking my leg. How I didn’t get muscle or nerve damage is a damn miracle.

Blaise nods in agreement, but I know he isn’t listening to a word I’m saying. I swear, if Dad hurts him, I’ll lose my shit and kill both him and Jackson.

“I’m heading out now,” he says, but doesn’t move.

“Right.”

His eyes flicker around the room, back to me, then to his fidgeting hands.

I try not to smile and have to suppress it by biting on my lip. He stays still as I shift off the sofa and shuffle over on my knees until I’m between his legs. I grab his chin and jerk him to me, pressing my mouth to his.

“Behave,” I say against his lips as I snatch them between my teeth, sucking while he whimpers deeply. Releasing him, I stand, adjusting myself by shoving my hand down my sweats to hide my boner. He’s a little breathless as he looks up at me with expanding pupils. So fucking hot and delicious. I want him, in ways I’ve never thought before.

Smirking and backing away, I grab the vacuum and take it to the cleaning closet, only hearing the front door closing a few minutes later.