23. Naomi

Findinga new rhythm between immersion and dodging sheer panic was a whole new thing for me. Iona was gone by the time I got back to our apartment. She left me a sticky note on the fridge that she'd be gone for the next few days, thanks to an impromptu trunk sale around Boston and Manhattan.

She never really knew what would come up with her job. Being at the mercy of Frankie and her creative vision could often be quite chaotic, but Iona lived for a hectic schedule, so they suited each other.

That left me at loose ends. I hadn't gotten any real feedback from what she'd read, but my head was still full of crazy ideas. I worked in my room, on the couch, and even at the kitchen island before I gave up and texted Colder.

What's for lunch?

Colder:

Miss me already?

I grinned at my phone. I did. I kept getting distracted as I tried to navigate a transitional portion of the book. I wasn't exactly sure where I wanted to go, which probably meant I needed to work on my plot a bit.

Yet rather than conspiracies and rebellion, I found myself touching my neck.

The memory of his hand there made my heart skip. I'd read about that sort of thing in books, though those were a little more hardcore. As usual, Colder seemed to know the exact happy medium of what to show me.

I'd never known a man who was better at reading me, both in conversation and in bed. It was a tad unnerving but mostly thrilling.

Colder:

Is that a no?

I laughed as I realized my brain had gone off track instead of responding.

Sorry, got distracted thinking about last night.

Colder:

Is that so? What were you thinking about?

I leaned on the kitchen island. Could this be another lesson?

No, Naomi. Not everything is a lesson.

This was about me and him. But part of me wasn't sure how to do the flirty text thing. I actually barely used my phone for much other than the occasional social media scroll when I was bored. Since I'd started writing again, there was little time for that.

How do you always know what I need? Even when I don't.

I started to backtrack and erase the text. That was too much info so soon. But I'd already hit enter and wanted to simply die.

I could see he was typing and nearly sawed my lower lip off when it stopped. I straightened. Definitely too much.

Then there was a knock on the door.

I rushed to the door, but I took the time to check the peephole—though I really didn't need to. I opened it and there he was. His hair was a little damp and he smelled of rain and cedar. He was wearing my favorite Colder uniform—lived-in jeans and a Henley that made his shoulders look so freaking broad.

"Hi."

"Hi." He grinned down at me and lowered to kiss me. He drew me in, and his cedar scent made my head spin.

"You didn't answer my question." Lightly, he kissed me again. "Are we back in session?"

I rolled my foot to the side. Brutal honesty was scary, but I really wanted to know how he was feeling. "Maybe."

"I'll tell you without the bonds of our lessons, Naomi."

"No lesson then."

He slid his arm around me and walked me back inside. "Iona around?"

I shook my head. "Gone for a few days."

His eyebrow rose. "Good to know." Then he lifted me. "Legs around me."

I yelped then I gripped his shoulders.

"I won't always know what you're thinking. Sometimes you'll need to tell me, but you're usually easy to read."

I frowned. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Not to me. You're so open and I wouldn't want that to change for anything. But there are cues that are unique to you, and I learn more every time we're together."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "There are? Not just because you…" I lifted my chin. There was no denying his talents came from more than three partners over his lifetime, unlike me. "Because you've been with a lot of people."

"Probably not as many as you're thinking, but yeah, that's part of it. But only because I pay attention." He gripped my butt and lifted me up to meet his mouth. "Being a bartender means I read body language. But when you're into someone, it's important, no matter what."

"You're into me?"

"I'd like to get into you right now, actually."

I threw my head back with a laugh. "I walked into that."

"You sure did." He looked around the apartment. "So this is the how the other half lives?"

"Iona, definitely not me. My place in Chicago is probably half of this size and I paid more than she is for sure. But then again, I was making a much better living." I linked my fingers at the back of his neck. "You okay with me being a kinda poor author?" His expression turned serious, and my smile slid away. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's something." I wasn't used to him keeping things from me. I was tempted to call class into session to get the truth, but that was unfair.

I wanted him to tell me on his own. More than I'd even expected.

He started down the hall. "Which room is yours?"

"Second one."

He nudged the door open and walked in, then he stretched me out on my full-sized bed. It was generally enough for me, but Colder was a good deal taller than me. He knelt between my thighs. "I don't want to think about money."

I lifted my hand to his cheek. "Okay."

Then he distracted me for a really long time. Long enough that lunchtime came and went as he used every bit of knowledge he had about my body. I couldn't think, let alone ask a question because he emptied my brain.

In the end, I found myself with an armful of Colder curled around me as we tangled together, and I stroked his back. I wasn't sure where all that had come from, and beyond that, I was eighty percent sure he'd made love to me to distract me.

There was no doubt it had been more than just sex, but I wasn't exactly sure where we were in our relationship.

He'd been so supportive of me writing, but the future of my career was very uncertain. Did he think it was a sure thing I'd be able to make a living with my writing?

Was there a time limit on support? Was there a future between us at all?

I didn't know how to ask him. We were so new it didn't feel like I could ask him.

I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and forced myself to think about only the present moment. It was enough for right now.

As my stomach rumbled, his smile curved against my skin.

"I was supposed to feed you." He levered himself up onto his elbow then he got distracted by my breast and gave it a lingering taste before he slid to the side and off me.

Immediately, I missed his weight.

Lightly, he thumbed my nipple then he stroked his way up my neck to my jaw and squeezed my lips together from the side until I laughed. Then he dropped a kiss on my mouth before he nudged me out of bed. "C'mon. Let me show you where the food trucks are."

"You have those?" I slipped out of bed, and he gave my butt a playful swat. "Hey!"

He laughed and eased around me. "We do. We might not be as exciting as Chicago for food, but we do all right."

"Have you been there?"

He grabbed his jeans and stepped into them. "Yeah. I spent some time working in a few cities. Chicago has a really good bar scene. I'm sure you're aware."

I laughed. "Not really. I'm pretty much a homebody."

"Well, it's kinda why I became a bartender. I used to wait tables for easy cash, but bartending was the real fit. I took some courses and then just got tossed into the deep end in a bar called Madigan's. It was slicker than Cal's place, and I worked my ass off."

"So we might have overlapped there if I wasn't such a hermit?"

He tugged his shirt on. "I definitely would have hit on you." He leaned down and kissed me again. "I was even more shameless when I was in my early twenties."

The idea that we could have crossed paths back then was crazy to me.

I went to my closet and pulled out a jersey dress that would be good for walking around the city. It felt weird to actually dress in front of him. He was really good at getting me out of clothes, but it felt almost more intimate to do the opposite.

He came up behind me as I was slipping on my bra and helped me. He was so tall and delicious behind me in the full-length mirror. He clasped my bra for me before he kissed my shoulder.

I was so very in trouble. How was I not going to fall in love with this man?

Was I already there? Surely not.

Not in just a few days.

That was ridiculous and far too fantastical even for my writerly self.

He pulled my hair over my shoulder to swing down my back. "Good with a walk? It's not exactly close but it's not more than a mile walk."

I nodded. "I'm good with that." I slid the teal-colored dress over my head and grabbed my sneakers. I reached for a hair tie and he covered my hand, then he wrapped his fingers around my hair.

"Leave it down for me?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the glint in his eyes. As if I could say no to him. "Okay."

He picked up my brush off the top of my skinny dresser and situated me in front of the mirror. "Mini lesson?"

I drew in a breath. "Okay."

"Brushing a woman's hair can be a form of foreplay. Extending the touch even when we aren't getting naked." He started underneath the heaviest part of my thick hair and gently drew out each stroke, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

He was so damn tall. So gentle and yet so big that he made me feel protected. Something I wasn't used to in the least.

I was in so much danger.

And I was running headlong into this insanity. Who the hell was I?

"Your hair drives me crazy. So soft and thick." He tunneled his fingers through the underside and along the base of my neck, making me groan. My nipples beaded up in reaction, and I was already wet. He gathered the length and slipped it over my shoulder, then kissed my neck before he handed me the brush. "We better go or I'm going to fuck you in front of this mirror."

"Maybe later?"

He grinned at me in the mirror. "Definitely later. Now we need fuel. Since we have an empty apartment for a few days, I plan on making use of it. Even if you have a pipsqueak bed."

I laughed when he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my bedroom and down the hall.

It was always an adventure with Colder. I just had to remember to stay in the moment.

The future would wait.