Falling In (17 page)

“Just say you’ll come over on Monday when the kids leave for school.”

His eyes are filled with hope, yet I can see an underlying fear that I will say no.

“I don’t know, Jake. This has to stop. It’s getting too hard. Too confusing. I don’t know what I’m doing.” My eyes fill, tears threatening to spill, but I push them away.
I can’t cry now
.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just think about it. Please.”

I take a deep breath and nod. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, his lips soft and wet, making my eyes close and my treacherous body shudder. When I open them, I see Cole just reaching the top step. I don’t think he saw the kiss, but he’s now looking directly at us, and we happen to be pretty damn close—inappropriately close to each other. I move into the hallway, keeping my eyes on Cole, who is staring daggers at Jake. Jake turns at the direction my eyes have zoned in on.

“Well, um, thanks for having Ben over last night while I went out with Becky. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem. He was great, and the kids had fun,” I squeak out. Please, voice, return to normal.
I sound like an effing chipmunk
.

“So I’ll see you Monday at the bus stop?”

“We’ll be there. Bye, Jake.”

“Bye.”

He turns around and walks down the hall. As he safely makes it past Cole and down the stairs, I let out a huge breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. I haven’t taken my eyes off Cole, who is now looking at me like I—
fuck. Like I just betrayed him.

Disappointed.

He looks completely disappointed in me. No one makes a move, and I’m not even sure I’ve blinked. We just stand where we are, apart, like we’re a million miles away from each other. And that’s exactly how I feel right now—like I am a million miles away from the man I love. We’re drifting, getting further apart, and it’s my fault. But I have no idea how to stop it. And the worse part, the saddest, most terrifying part, is that I don’t even know if I
want
to stop it.

Cole finally walks toward me, and as he draws near, I plead out his name, but he doesn’t stop moving. He walks right past me without a word or backwards glance and goes into our room, shutting the door behind him.

And shutting me out with it.

***

Two hours.

Cole has been upstairs for two effing hours. I don’t know how much longer I can sit here while he’s up there thinking God knows what.
Fuck. What is he thinking?
I don’t even know what he saw. But from that look, that slighted, hurt look on his face, I know he saw something that I’m not ready to admit.

Yes, we might have been flirting, but flirting can be harmless, you know. Although, I’m pretty sure rubbing your erection against someone’s ass is a notch above flirting.

Holy shit, what am I doing?

How did I get to this place?
Where Cole is stewing upstairs, giving me the silent treatment, while I’m down here, trying not to think of how good it felt having Jake’s hard-on poking me in the ass, and how wet he made me with just a look. And in turn, feeling like shit because I should be worried as hell that my loving, supportive, equally sexy partner might think I’m having an affair with the neighbor.

I’m so fucked up right now.

I don’t know what’s up or what’s down.
Fuck this
. I’m not sitting down here anymore. He needs to hear me out
,
and not jump to any conclusions.
All right then, it’s settled
. I’m going to walk upstairs, and tell him the truth.
Half-truth
. Nothing was really going on. We’ve become friends. We were just talking. And he made the small mistake of kissing my cheek.
But friends do that
. It was totally and completely harmless.
Friendly. Super friendly
.

Yep. Fucked up.

With the longest deep breath in record books to date, I tell the kids—whom are enjoying childhood as they traipse through the sprinkler in the yard—that I’m going to run upstairs to talk to Dad. They barely acknowledge me, busy living in the moment in their beautiful, carefree lives.

I walk through the silent house, hearing every creak of the floor and tick of the clock as I make my dreaded walk upstairs. I pause at the door, taking another massive breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth, and then gather up whatever courage I can muster and open the door.

He’s sleeping.

What. The. Fuck.

He’s been napping the whole time I was having a minor breakdown? Did I make up all of that tension? The stare-down?
No.
No, I couldn’t have
. He was pissed. And upset. I
know
he was.
And now, what, he’s going to just sleep it off?
I bow my head and let out a sigh of relief.
Am I relieved?
Yeah, I think I am. For now, I can bask in my ignorance of the reality of this situation. I don’t have to admit what I’m petrified to speak out loud. Everything can stay put inside my head. And for a moment, another moment, I can just breathe.

I slowly and quietly walk over to the side of the bed, staring down at the man who has owned my heart for over twenty years. His usually short blond hair is beginning to grow out, curling at the sides around his ears. It suits him, though. He’s sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow that feels rough against my index finger. I run it down his cheekbone and jaw before pulling my hand back as he begins to stir. He is downright beautiful—inside and out. I lean over and lightly kiss his lips, whispering against the soft fullness.

“I love you, Cole. I love you so fucking much.”

“
I know
.” He says groggily from sleep, surprising the eff out of me.

“You’re awake.”

“I could never sleep when you’re touching me.” His eyes finally open and lock onto mine, hiding whatever he’s feeling at the moment. I honestly can’t see any real emotion behind those baby blues. He gives me a sad smile as he runs his finger down my face, just as I did to him a minute ago.

“Cole, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He cuts me off right before grabbing behind my neck, pulling me down onto him and ambushing my mouth with his. He pries my needy lips open with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from me as he yanks on my braid, exposing my neck, which is now being licked and sucked. I’m quickly straddling him, grinding my aching pussy against his cock that is barely being contained in his pajama bottoms.

He sits up and flips me over onto my back, pinning my arms above my head with one hand and using the other to lift up my tank and sports bra. He pulls a nipple into his mouth, sucking it relentlessly, then nips at it with his teeth. I scream out in pleasure and pain.

“I’m going to fuck you. Hard and fast. I
need
to fuck you.” He pants out, pulling my leggings down, and then groans when he sees that I’m not wearing any panties.

“Yes, fuck me, Cole. Please fuck me. Now.” I groan, right before he pulls out his dick and slams into me. I cry out from the sudden invasion, hoping for the life of me the kids can’t hear this. He’s still holding my hands above my head. I’m trying to get them free, but he won’t let go.

“Cole, I wanna touch you.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“What?” I ask, not sure if I heard him correctly. Moaning as he lifts one leg over his shoulder and swirls his hips the way I like, he angles his hard length so it hits my g-spot just right.

“
Tell. Me. You. Are. Mine
.” He grunts out every word, punctuating each one with a hard thrust.

“I’m yours, Cole. I’ve always been yours.”

He looks into my eyes, searching for sincerity. When he finds it, he releases my hands and drops his forehead to mine, sweat dripping off of him and onto me. I grab his face into my hands and I see it again—the uncertainty that is brewing, the hurt that he is already feeling. I close my eyes tightly, pushing down the guilt that is gnawing away at my heart, and when I open them again, I kiss him deeply, showing him how much I love him.
Need him
. And still want him—no matter what other feelings I may be having.

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” I keep repeating over and over as he drives into me, so hard my head is banging against the headboard. But honestly, right now, I really don’t give a fuck. I just want to come.

And Jesus, do I come.

Although, Jesus had nothing to do with it—that was all Cole. My orgasm tears through me like a cyclone. I can feel it from my curled toes up through my entire body, humming with pleasure and total bliss. And just as Cole comes, sinking his teeth into my shoulder while I scream out, still riding the aftershocks of my orgasm, we hear a knock at the door.

“Mom? Dad? Are you in there? Me and Cady are done with the sprinkler. What are you guys doing in there?”

We both go instantly silent, wincing simultaneously. Cole clears his throat, barely suppressing the laughter that is begging to come out.

“I was just taking a nap, buddy. And Mom is about to take a shower. We’ll be out in a few, okay? Why don’t ya’ll get dressed and go read in your room for a little bit?”

“Okay.”

We listen for his little footsteps, and hear a door slam. Then we erupt into howls of laughter that last for a good five minutes. As we begin to contain ourselves, Cole rolls off of me and onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and gazing at my dopey smile with a look that makes it vanish.

“Cole—”

“Why don’t you jump in the shower? I’ll go wrangle the kids, okay?”

“But—”

“Just go.” Cole urges, giving me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He kisses me on the forehead before grabbing a towel and cleaning himself up. He tosses it in the laundry basket without doing his usual post-sex ritual of cleaning between my legs as well. He doesn’t even look at me. He rummages through the dresser, pulling out boxer briefs and a pair of gym shorts. I have yet to move off the bed, my eyes following every move he makes. The room is gradually becoming tense as the incident from earlier begins to creep back in, reminding us that something might be very wrong. Something is happening to us. Or rather,
someone
.

Cole goes into the closet, coming out seconds later wearing the Red Hot Chili Pepper tank I got him for Christmas this year. Then he walks to the door, still not glancing my way or even saying another word. He pauses at the door, resting his forehead against it, his muscles stiffening with the worry I know is plaguing him.

I get up from the bed and walk over to him, wrapping my arms hesitantly around his waist, burying my face into his back. He relaxes into my touch, both of us letting out shaky breaths.

“I’m yours, Cole. I’m only yours.” I whisper against him.

His body goes rigid again. “Lately, I’m not so sure of that,” he croaks out, his voice full of emotion that I swear breaks my heart in two. My eyes begin to water and I squeeze him tighter, holding onto him, afraid what will happen if I let him go. I’m desperately clinging to the closeness we just shared a few moments ago, to the closeness we’ve always shared, since the day he walked over to me on the playground and grabbed my hand.

He’s never let go. 

Cole captures my wrists, removing them from his body. He holds them for a few precious seconds before dropping them at my sides. Then he opens the door and walks out.

I feel disoriented. Like something—
or everything
—isn’t quite right. I walk to the bathroom in a daze, stepping into the shower and turning the handle until the water is scalding. I slide down the back wall and sit in the middle of the tub, hugging my knees to my chest, letting the water rain down on me. Cleansing me. Hopefully washing away this feeling that my world is about to change, implode.

Fall completely apart.

Evangeline

It’s 1am, early Monday morning. I’m lying in bed, completely awake. Cole is snoring and sleeping soundly right next to me. I watch his chest rise and fall peacefully. This is the closest we’ve been since the day before, when we fucked away our worries. He didn’t even sleep in our bed last night. He fell asleep watching the Mariners play, and when I tried to get him to come upstairs with me, he pushed my hand away and very groggily told me to just leave him down there. So I did. And like what seems to be happening tonight, I barely slept. The bed felt so empty and cold without him. But now, even though he’s inches away from me, I feel like he isn’t really here. There’s been this distance between us all day. When we’re with the kids, we interact normally, or close to it, albeit a lot less affectionate than normal. But while we were laughing and teasing and smiling across the room, it just felt—I don’t know, off. Different. Forced, even. Especially when we were alone.

Once the kids went to bed, it was as if we dropped the act. We barely spoke unless we had to. There were no funny little stories or joking around over glasses of wine. When I curled into him to watch
Mad Men
, he let me but there weren’t any small touches, like lazy circles being drawn on my arms. He was just there. Still.
Lifeless
. It felt awkward and uncomfortable. Being near him has
never
felt that way. And he has
never
not touched me when I’m near. He’s always craved it.
Needed
to touch me, at least in some little way. But tonight, it was like he couldn’t even fathom the thought.

And that right there is terrifying
.

Cole even left the couch right after the show, saying that he was going to get ready for bed.
Had an early start
. But every day is an early start for him. It was just another excuse to get away from me. When I went upstairs not ten minutes after he did, he feigned sleep.
But I knew he was awake
—I could feel his heart speed up when I kissed him softly before lying next to him. Thankfully, he didn’t turn away, but he might as well have.

Now, it’s hours later, and I’m wracking my brain for ideas about how to fix this. But the only one that will work makes my stomach churn and my hands can’t seem to stop shaking. Jake is the problem, and Jake is the answer.
I can’t see him anymore
. Not if I want to go back to how things were with Cole—before this man moved in next door and took me by surprise. I’ve been trying to think of ways around it. I know I’m a selfish bitch, but I can’t help it. He makes me feel something. And I don’t know if it’s necessarily better than Cole. It’s just different.
New
. He makes me feel sixteen again, but without all of the fucked up daddy issues. Like just a normal girl. And maybe that’s just it. Cole knows my past. He lived my past with me. He saw what I went through daily. He dried my tears with the bottom of his t-shirt and held me in his arms when I would tell him every detail of my day, no matter how awful or shameful. And he never judged. He was just there. He took my dirty little secret to the grave. He’s my protector. But with Jake, yes, he might know the Cliff’s Notes of my childhood, but he still sees me as just a girl.

He sees me for
me
.

Not a victim.

I’m not saying Cole sees me that way now, but at some point, he did. With Jake, we don’t have this long history. And that excites me. We have pasts that are both full of pain, but we don’t feel the need to sit down and swap war stories. We just get each other. We understand that some pain is best kept locked away. That sometimes you just want to not know. And maybe that’s what he sees in me. A chance to just be himself, without the sob story.

I’m not ready to let that freedom go.

Yep. Selfish bitch.

I grab my phone, and with a glance at Cole to make sure he’s still asleep, I get out of bed and tiptoe out of the room, moving as quietly as humanly possible down the stairs. When I make it to the couch safely, I stare at the phone for a few minutes, debating what I’m about to do.
Fuck it
. Once I unlock the screen, I’m met with a background picture of Cole and I from Valentine’s Day. I ignore the pang of guilt and open up my text messages. My finger hovers over Jake’s name. And before I chicken out, I hit it and type a quick message.                

Evie: Are you up?

I swear ten minutes go by, but in actuality, it’s really only a minute before he replies.

Jake: Yeah I’m reading. You’re up late. Wild night? ;-)

I snort.

Evie: Hardly. Cole went to bed early. And I can’t sleep. What are you reading?

Jake: I don’t want to tell you.

Evie: Lol, what? Why not? Is it that bad?

Jake: I would definitely lose some dude points. :-/

Evie: Okay now you have to tell me. I’m on my knees begging you.

Jake: Damn that would be a sight to see. Tell me what you’re wearing first then mayb
e
…

Evie: Perv. All right fine. I’ll tell you what I’m wearing but you have to tell me what you’re reading or no deal.

Jake: Deal. I’m waitin
g
…

Evie: Black boy short panties and a white tank.

Jake: No bra?

This is so wrong. But damn, I’m getting turned on. I squirm on the couch, my pussy tingling.

Evie: Nope.

Jake: Shit Evangeline. You don’t know what that image is doing to me right now.

I think I have an idea, but I want to know in detail how I make him feel. I know, I know, I’m playing with fire here. But right now, being a pyro doesn’t sound so bad.
It sounds fucking amazing!

Evie: What does it do to you?

Three minutes
. It’s been three minutes since I texted him. No response.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that
. I’m about to tell him never mind, don’t answer that question, but before I even begin typing, my phone vibrates in my hand. I stop moving, and quite possibly, breathing. I was so anxious for him to answer, but now I’m scared shitless to read what is in this text. It could change
everything
. It’ll mean completely crossing that line that we’ve been hovering over for weeks.

Please forgive me, Cole.

Jake: Picturing your sexy ass that I’ve been dying to spank, in tiny black panties, braless, a top that most likely exposes your breasts that I know would fit effortlessly in my hands. Your nipples poking through the thin material, begging to be licked. Damn Evangeline, it makes me want to barge through that door, push you down onto the floor, and rip those poor excuses for clothes off you. I want to drive my fingers into you over and over, rubbing your clit until you’re begging for mercy and I feel your pussy clench around my fingers. And then after I suck your arousal off my fingers, I know I’d need a taste firsthand, so I’d lick your pussy up and down and all around. Sucking and flicking your clit. Inhaling you until you go limp from my mouth. But I still need more. So I’d take my throbbing hard cock and sink into that sweet tight pussy that’s been keeping me up all night for weeks thinking about it. I want to hear my name being screamed by your perfect, full, cock-sucking lips. Picturing you in any which way makes my dick instantly hard, and I wish it was your soft and small hands stroking it right now instead of mine.

Holy. Shit.

That was the hottest thing I have ever heard—err, read.
I mean, damn
. This man can talk dirty. My panties are drenched and my pussy is aching for attention. I move my hand down to the top of my panties, slipping my fingers inside, feeling the slickness and moving it around in circles against my clit. My phone vibrates in my hand again.
Crap
. I forgot to reply.

Jake: Evangeline? Shit. I didn’t scare you off did I? I’m sorry. I went too far didn’t I? Shit. I’m sorry.

Evie: No no no. Don’t be sorry. It didn’t scare me off. It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever read. And I’m a mom porn writer for fuck’s sake. I should take notes from you. I was, um distracted.

Jake: I learned from the best (you). Of course reading Fifty Shades of Grey tonight might’ve helped. That Grey dude is one kinky sonofabitch! Distracted huh? What or who was distracting you?

Evie: OH MY GAWD! You were not reading 50 Shades? That is hilarious. You really have turned into a housewife, haven’t you? And yes Mr. Grey is the quintessential fucked up adult contemporary book boyfriend. S&M never sounded so good. But remind me to give you a list of better books to read!

Evie: Oh and fingers.

Jake: Seriously. I think I might start taking notes from this      guy.

Jake: Fingers?

Evie: My fingers were distracting me.

Jake: Fuck Evangeline. Were you really touching yourself?

Evie: Yes. I had to. Your word
s…
They made me ache.

Shit
. I cannot believe I just told him that. I’m in trouble.
So fucking in trouble.

Jake: Now that was the hottest thing I’ve ever read. Damn girl. Are you still aching?

Evie: Yes.

Jake: Touch yourself for me.

This really is wrong. I definitely shouldn’t do this. I really really shouldn’t. But damn, the way he makes me feel…it’s just too much to resist.

He is too much to resist.

Jake: Evangeline?

Evie: Okay. 

Jake: Shit Evangeline. I’m hard as a rock for you.

Evie: Then touch yourself too.

I slide my hand over the top of my soaked panties, applying just the right amount of pressure, up and down. Teasing myself. Then I slip my fingers underneath my panties and spread my lips apart, running my fingers through my wet folds. My pussy is throbbing for more. I picture Jake’s hard, long, and thick cock entering me as I slip two fingers inside me, moving in and out. My pussy is contracting with each thrust. I bring my fingers back out again, press them against my clit, and then shove them back in and repeat the motion until I’m on the edge. My breathing picks up as I rub my juices against my clit harder and harder, faster and faster, until my body tenses and my toes curl. I stifle a moan and let out a deep breath of ecstasy and relaxation. A small smile spreads across my face. I readjust my panties and then pick up the phone off of the coffee table. I have two missed texts, six minutes apart.

Jake: Already am babe. And I’m thinking of you as I’m doing it. Wishing that instead of my hand it was that pussy that I know tastes better than chocolate. Fuck Evangeline. I want you so bad it hurts baby. It hurts.

Jake: Damn I wish I could see you fuck yourself with those delicate pixie fingers of yours. It’s gotta be the hottest sight known to man. Did it feel as good as I’m sure it looked?

Evie: It felt like heaven. It was exactly what I needed.

Jake: Heaven huh? Well I’d die a hundred times over just to feel what you just felt.

Evie: Lol. Good line.

Jake: I’ve been known to be smooth from time to time. So we still on for tomorrow? I have to see you more than ever after what just happened. You have no idea how much restraint I’m practicing to not knock down your door right now and steal you away.

Evie: Jak
e…
I want to see you. I do. I just don’t think I should. Cole is catching on to whatever this thing i
s…
He’s barely spoken to me since you came over on Saturday. This, this is so wrong. So very wrong.

Jake: Then why does it feel so fucking right Evangeline? I don’t give a fuck about Cole right now. Just see me tomorrow. I won’t lay a finger on you unless you want me to. We’re friends remember? I just want to be near you. Please.

Fuck. Fuckety fuck
.
What am I doing? What the actual fuck am I doing?
I’m an addict, and he’s me addiction. I can’t stop myself from wanting him. For feeling like I need him. He’s my own version of heroin. So good, but so damn bad for me. Pure, sinful bliss. My personal immoral paradise.

Evie: Fuck, Jake. Okay.

Jake: Thank you. You won’t regret it.

Evie: I hope not. I think I’m going to try to sleep now. Goodnight.

Jake: Goodnight Evangeline. I’ll see you in our dreams.