And I was terrified with how desperately I wanted that in my life. I was scared at how willing I was to sacrifice just about anything, my pride included, to experience those tantalizing moments when every nerve in my body detonated.
Cole was my crack. And I wanted to crush him up and snort him.
When Gracie had asked me to come to a movie with her and a few of her friends from the coffee shop, I had declined. I chose to ignore the brief look of relief that flittered across her face.
I opted instead to spend my evening with my best friends Ben and Jerry.
I was grunged out in my oldest pair of sweat pants. They were a pink with the faded word “juicy” along the ass. The elastic had given out about twenty washes ago and I had them held up with safety pins. I had gone sans bra and instead wore a Generation Rejects shirt I had ganked from Cole’s floor over a year ago.
And yes I had kept it. And yes I still wore it when I was lonely and depressed like I was now. And yes that made me borderline pathetic.
There was no sense bringing up the fact that I used to try to smell his scent on the cotton for months after I had “mistakenly” brought it home.
Because that would be just plain sad.
I had scrubbed my face and was without any makeup. All in all I wasn’t meant for public eyes.
I was scrapping the last remnants of my icecream from the bottom of the carton with my spoon when the doorbell rang. I startled and almost screamed. Not because I was scared, but because I was in my Juicy sweatpants with no makeup on.
Who in the world would be coming by at eight-thirty on a Saturday night? I prayed it was a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses or an old encyclopedia salesman I could ignore.
I quickly took my hair down and attempted to comb my fingers through it. It was a rat’s nest and desperately needed a deep conditioning. I pulled up my sagging pants and walked over to the door just as the bell chimed again.
I wiped around my mouth trying to remove the evidence of my binge ice cream eating before finally opening the door.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said before I could censor myself.
“Bad time?” Cole asked, standing on my front stoop, looking gorgeous and clean and nothing at all like the last time I had seen him. He was holding two plastic bags and was wearing a pleased grin.
I thought about slamming the door in his face and hiding in my room but I figured I was capable of rising above such an immature impulse.
“Anytime you show up is a bad time,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest, remembering that I wasn’t wearing a bra and my C cups were flopping away under my T-shirt.
“Is that my shirt?” Cole asked, peering at my chest. I tightened my arms and started to back away.
“No!” I lied.
Cole lifted an eyebrow. “Actually, I think it is! I’ve been looking all over for it!” he accused chidingly.
“Whatever, it’s mine now,” I responded petulantly.
Cole chuckled. “It looks a hell of a lot better on you anyway,” he conceded and I couldn’t argue with the truth.
“Why are you here, Cole? I was having a perfectly good evening spending time with Leonardo DiCaprio and Baked Alaska,” I said, feeling entirely too off balance by his sudden arrival.
I couldn’t figure out what on earth he could be doing at my apartment. Things had been left with little opening for a renewed acquaintance. I thought I had made myself perfectly clear.
I wasn’t going to sleep with him.
No matter how delicious he looked.
Or how nice he smelled.
Or the fact that he brought a bag containing all of the ingredients needed to make Lemon Drops, my favorite cocktail.
“What’s this for?” I asked suspiciously. Was he planning to get me drunk so he could have sex with me? Was this his dastardly plan? If so, I saw right through it. And a horny, masochistic part of me approved.
“You were right,” Cole said suddenly and without preamble.
“I usually am, but what specifically was I right about?” I asked, giving up on trying to hide my braless boobs behind my arms and opted for letting the puppies fly.
And I was also feeling extremely magnanimous so I moved aside, giving Cole silent permission to step inside.
He walked across the threshold and stopped. He looked around, taking everything in.
“This is my first time in your apartment,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes it is,” I agreed.
“We’ve known each other for over two years and I’ve never been here before. Why is that?” he asked as if genuinely confused.
“Because you’re a self-centered jackass,” I offered.
Cole smiled in that sexy, heart-melting way of his and I had to take a deep breath to calm my racing pulse.
“I think you might be on to something there,” he said, dropping the bags onto the coffee table. He took in Romeo and Juliet paused on the television and the three empty ice cream tubs on the floor.
“Shit, you weren’t lying,” he remarked.
“I told you I was having a hot night,” I said dryly, my vanity already kicking me in the ass for choosing comfort over cuteness.
Always prepare for hot guy visits, Vivian! You know better!
Cole seemed entirely too interested in his surroundings. He took a slow perusal of the knick-knacks and framed photographs, stopping to pick up one from my senior year at Rinard. A Chi Delta sister had taken it of Maysie, Gracie and myself when we had dressed as flappers for a mixer.
“Cute,” he said, putting it back. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. He was making me uncomfortably edgy.
“So what was I right about?” I prompted, getting back to the point of his impromptu visit.
Cole stopped circling the room and came back to stand in front of me. My entire body started to buzz with awareness. It was as though my cells were beating against my skin, demanding that I touch him.
It was so freaking annoying.
“When you said I didn’t know anything about you. I think it’s time I changed that,” Cole said, surprising me.
What was he talking about?
Cole reached out and gently pulled down the stretched out neck of my T-shirt. I tensed up, not sure what he was going to do. He slowly and carefully traced the line of my scar that ran between my br**sts.
“You told me I didn’t know how you got this scar. You were right. I didn’t know. And I should have. We have spent the last two years learning every inch of each other’s bodies but I know nothing about who Vivian Baily is. I didn’t think I even wanted to know. But I was wrong. I want to know everything.”