Stay (18 page)

I don’t want to stop touching him.  And I certainly don’t want him to stop touching me.  I want to stake my claim just like Brooklyn suggested earlier.

He licks at my mouth, nipping at the corners until I’m the one groaning, wanting more.  After a few breathless moments, he begins kissing his way down my neck to the collar of my shirt.

“Cole…” Barely can I even scrape his name out.  What he’s doing feels so good…  Better than good…

“Hmmm,” he murmurs between fevered kisses.

“I don’t think we should take this any further…” I pause trying desperately to catch my breath along with my scattered thoughts, “I’m sorry.”

This is exactly what he does to me.

Makes me completely senseless.

Not responding to my words, he simply nibbles his way back up to my mouth before pressing one last lingering kiss against my lips.

“I know.”  He shrugs his broad shoulders as if stopping is no big deal. One corner of his mouth tilts upward before he presses his forehead against mine.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t want to push you.”

Needing a bit of space between us, I pull away before searching his whiskey colored eyes.  They are so completely beautiful in their golden intensity.  Sometimes it feels as if I might stumble and fall right into them.  I can’t help but wonder what would happen if I did.

If I just let myself fall.

If I stopped backing away from the edge and simply jumped instead.

A thin shiver snakes its way uncomfortably down my spine as I continue backing away.

Chapter Sixteen

Cole

“Hi sweetie.”

My mom calls out a greeting as I come through the front door.  For just a moment I pause, remembering what it felt like to walk through Cassidy’s front door.  The tone and feel of our houses couldn’t be more different.  Even with no one there to welcome us, the vibe had felt strangely tense.

“Hi, mom.”

Even though I’m nearly twenty, she still wraps her arms around me, pulling me close for a deep embrace.  Other guys would probably fight the intimacy or roll their eyes at having their mom hug them, but I don’t.  Truth be told, I don’t really give a shit what anyone else thinks.  I know what it feels like to lose a parent.  So, if she wanted to give me a hug every once in a while, I’m cool with it.

My mind tumbles back to Cassidy and her dad and the God awful awkwardness that had sucked the oxygen right out of the room.  I hate to admit it, but I’d been secretly relieved when she had asked me to wait in the car, even though a huge part of me hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with him.

He had looked so cold and… distant.  Angry.

I’m still trying to work out what the hell is wrong between the pair of them but I can’t seem to figure it out and Cassidy has remained rather tight lipped about the whole thing.

Actually, Cassidy is pretty close mouthed about her past in general.  Well, I guess that isn’t entirely true.  I now know she grew up playing hockey.  It had surprised the shit out of me to learn that she’d been a serious athlete up until this year.  I almost smile thinking about how she had blown right past me out on the ice.

She’s a puzzle I want to solve.

Okay, maybe a puzzle I
need
to solve is more of an accurate description.

I’ve actually done a little online snooping, hoping to gather a little more intel about this girl.  The only thing I’ve been able to find is a few newspaper clippings and website pictures of her playing youth hockey.  Championship photos.  You could just tell from the sparkling glint in her eyes that she was one hell of a tough player.  There was this look of utter confidence about her, as if she knew exactly where she belonged.  Even in a group of rough and tumble boys, she had known she was accepted. 

So what in the hell had happened to change that?

Where had all that confidence disappeared to?

And why wasn’t she still playing?  Because being out on the ice with her, I can tell she was good.  Really good.

I keep waiting for her to open up, even just a little bit, but she hasn’t.  And honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if she ever will.  I’m not ready to give up on her just yet but she has to seriously throw me a bone here.  I’m working my ass off.

In all the team pictures I had found online, her dad had been standing proudly behind her.  He’d obviously been one of her coaches growing up, which wasn’t uncommon.  He’d looked different as well.  Younger.  Happier.  Lighter.  I almost didn’t recognize him.

So whatever happened last year had affected both of them.

“Well, that’s a rather pensive look.”  My mom strokes a hand over my cheek and I immediately snap out of my thoughts before forcing a smile.  No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get that girl out of my mind.  “Everything okay?”

Yeah… the whole Cassidy conversation isn’t one I’m going to be having with my mom.  There are just too many unknowns at this point.  Hell, half the time I don’t even know what’s going on between us. “It’s nothing.”  Plus… she’ll want to talk it to death.  And I’m not in the mood for that.

Linking her arm through mine, we move into the kitchen.  “Smells good, mom.  What are you making this time?”  My mother loves to cook.  She’s always trying out new recipes.  An added bonus is that she’s really good at it.

“Braised beef roast, au gratin potatoes, glazed green beans with a freshly baked rosemary infused bread.”  She looks pleased with herself.

Already I can feel my stomach grumbling.  A week of eating at school will do that to you.  “That sounds seriously good.  If there are left overs, maybe I can take some back for the guys?”  They’ll fight like jackals over them which is always amusing.  Because most of the guys live far from home, they don’t get home cooked meals very often.  And since I always eat dinner with my family on Sundays, my mom usually makes enough to feed a small army.  Or at least a houseful of hockey players.

“You certainly could have invited them over today.”

I shrug.  Yeah… I guess I could have but…  “I needed a break from the chaos.”  Six guys sharing a house and playing hockey together is sometimes a little too much togetherness.  So getting away for a few hours every Sunday is usually just enough of a break before I head back to school for the week.

“Understandable,” she agrees.

I’m an only child.  And while most moms feel a bit of relief when their children finally leave home, mine didn’t.  Hell, I’d still be living up in my old room if she had her way.  So we compromised when I left for college.  I stayed local but live near campus instead of at home.  

Swiping a chocolate chip cookie from a plate on the counter I ask, “So where’s Thomas?”

My mother waves a hand in the air.  “Oh, he had an emergency at the hospital.  He should be back before we sit down to eat.”

Thomas is an emergency room doctor at the local hospital in town.  He’s also my stepfather.  My dad died in a car accident when I was ten.  Drunk driver.  Some fucked up college kid driving home from the bar at two in the morning.  My father died instantly while the jackass kid walked away without a scratch.  And yeah, he sat his ass in jail for a couple years.  But so what?  That certainly hadn’t brought my dad back to us.

My mother married Thomas four years after that.  He isn’t my dad and he doesn’t try to be.  But he’s a super nice guy and treats my mother well which is really all that matters.  And if I need to talk, he’s there.  It could be worse.  A hell of a lot worse.

“So I’ll have you all to myself for a couple of hours.”  She smiles and I’m unable to resist returning her happiness.  My father’s death may have dampened her spirit but over the years, it returned and she persevered.  I guess we both have.

Breaking into my thoughts again, she asks, “So, how’s the team shaping up this year?” 

I run my hands through my hair as I turn the question over in my mind.  “I think we’ll be solid.  We’ve got a lot of strong returning players.  A tough defense and a fast offense.  The freshmen and transfers we picked up seem to be talented so that should help.” I shrug my shoulders.  “So far, so good.”

Opening the fridge, I grab a Gatoraid before sitting down at the large granite island.  Twisting off the cap, I say, “You know, you don’t have to buy these anymore.”  Then I proceed to guzzle down half the bottle.

She just smiles, shaking her blonde head as she continues chopping the green beans with the precision of a trained chef.  “Of course I’ll still buy the things you like.  You’re my son, I miss having you around.  Seeing them in the fridge reminds me that you’ll be home soon for a visit.”

I raise a brow as a small, not to mention unmanly, lump settles in the middle of my throat.  But still I can’t resist teasing, “Jeez, mom, you’re getting sappy in your old age.”

About a second after the words leave my mouth, a dish towel hits me square in the face.  Can’t argue that my mom doesn’t have great aim.  But I guess that’s what happens when your dad dies and your mom gets stuck throwing baseballs for you out in the yard.

“Have I taught you nothing?”  She says sternly in reply, her perfectly arched brows drawing together, “Never call a woman old. 
Especially
your mother.”

My lips curve as I laugh.  “Lesson learned.”

For a few moments she works in silence, continuing to chop and prep the potatoes as I stare out the window that overlooks the backyard.  It doesn’t take long for my thoughts to circle right back to Cassidy.  No matter how hard I try to stop thinking about her, she’s never far from my mind.  It would be completely aggravating if I wasn’t so into her.  Even though we haven’t been seeing each other long, I like her.  She’s kind of a walking contradiction.  And I find that completely fascinating.  At first she kind of struck me as a bit of a tough girl but the more I got to know her, the more chinks I found in her armor.  The vulnerability buried beneath that hard shell of hers tears me up inside. And it makes me want to do everything within my power to protect her.

“Alright,” my mom finally asks, “who is she?”

My eyes snap to hers.  “What are you talking about?”

Smiling patiently as if I’m not fooling her for a moment, which apparently I’m not, she continues cutting and chopping.  The look she gives me is tenacious which means she won’t be letting this go until she’s been fully briefed.

Whether I want to tell her or not.

And I don’t.

Trying to downplay the whole thing, I finally admit, “Just a girl I’ve been seeing.”

One brow arches.  “And I take it there’s a problem with this girl you’ve been seeing?”

Damn but I wish it weren’t so complicated.  “She’s just…”  I’m not even sure how to answer that question.  For the life of me I can’t figure Cassidy out.  All I know is that I want to.  I want to crack the Cassidy code.  It’s just going to take some time to do it.

Finally, after mulling it over, I try explaining, “She’s a very private person.”

“Umm hmm.  Go on.”

I almost groan.  No… not the
go on
…  I seriously hate the
go on
…  I feel like I’m about to relive my middle and high school years all over again with things like
- open communication
and
dialogue
and, God help me,
resolution
.

Yep, it’s definitely time to downplay the Cassidy situation.

“It’s just really new right now.”  I shrug my shoulders striving for nonchalant.  “This whole thing might not even work out.”  Sometimes I actually wonder if that’s what Cassidy wants.  Because she’s been pushing me away from day one.  Six weeks later and she’s still pushing me away.  The problem is- I’m not going anywhere.

“Nope, might not.”  Then she smiles.  “But it’s nice to see you back out there again after Jackie.”

Hearing that name has my shoulders tensing before I run a quick hand through my hair.  I don’t want to discuss Jackie.  Especially when my mind is so full of Cassidy.  Trying to shut down the conversation, I say, “Let’s not talk about Jackie.”

She sighs.  “It’s important to talk about your feelings, Cole.  You know that.”

Even though I’m nearly twenty, I roll my eyes.  What is it about being back in your childhood home that makes you feel, and yeah-
act
, like a sullen fourteen year old?  It’s frustrating to say the least which is exactly why I don’t live here anymore.  “Trust me,” I mutter, “I know that all too well.  Besides, we’ve already talked the whole Jackie thing to death.  I’m over it.”  Jackie is the past.  I’m hoping Cassidy will be my future.

Her brown eyes hold mine before she asks softly, “Are you?”

I don’t even hesitate.  “Yep, totally over it.” I am totally over that lying, cheating-

“Hmmm.”

I really hate when she makes that noise.

“Mom,” I grit out in a warning tone, “I don’t want to talk about Jackie.”  Scratching my chin, I suddenly ask, “When’s Thomas getting home again?  Will it be soon?”

She makes a face.  “Don’t be a brat.”

“Ha!” I snort.  “You refrain a little more from discussing our
feelings
when Thomas is around.”  Which I’m beginning to appreciate more and more.