Birthday Girl

I look over, seeing Cole’s Challenger parked in the next spot. He’s home.

I knit my brow, apprehension suddenly hitting me.

The distance between us is growing, and I feel like he’s miles away these days. The need he seemed to have for me a couple weeks ago is almost non-existent now, and I wonder why I’m still here.

But I have an idea.

Guilt winds its way through my gut as I remember what happened in the shower the other day, and how my brain took a completely different turn than I wanted. Or didn’t know I wanted.

It was just the stress. The moment got away from me, and Pike was a focal point. He’s been nice and caring, and I’ve been starved for a little attention, and I zoned in on him. That’s it.

At this point, though, I have almost no reason to stay here, but still, even with Cole’s and my problems, I hate the idea of leaving. This house has become familiar and warm. A home. And even though Pike can certainly be an invasive ass sometimes, I do like him. He cares. He doesn’t express his concerns very eloquently, of course, but I know his intentions are in the right place. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me and giving a damn about what I do.

And I hate to admit it, but I like the way he makes me feel. The way his eyes look at me like I’m the only thing in the world.

Climbing out of the truck, I grab my bag with the corset in it. I changed into a T-shirt before I left the bar, and while I felt pretty exposed all night with a few more pairs of eyes on me than I’m used to, I quirk a smile to myself, thinking of the wad of tips in my pocket right now. It’s not nearly what Cam makes or what I could make bartending at The Hook, but it’s more than I normally earn in a week, so…

And I can’t lie. I kind of liked the attention. I knew the moment his eyes were on me tonight when he walked in and I was at the juke box. I could see him out of the corner of my eye when I walked to the bar, too, and I know that look. Possessive.

I lock the truck door, my heart thudding again as I head for the house.

I need to talk to Cole. I need to look into his eyes and take his hand in mine, look down at our matching little scars and see if I still feel this going anywhere. A few months ago, he always had his arm around me. Now I can’t remember the last time he’s touched me.

Entering the house, I close the door, drop my bag, and slip off my flats. I curl my toes, the ache in my feet shooting up my calves.

The living room is shrouded in shadow, and I walk to the dark staircase and stop, listening. No noise comes from upstairs, so Pike and Cole are probably both asleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I tiptoe into the kitchen and take a glass from the cupboard, pressing it under the water dispenser on the fridge.

But when I glance up, I see Cole in the back yard and freeze.

I drop my hand from the dispenser, the glass upending and the water in it splattering all over the wooden floor. Heat courses up my neck, my lungs empty, and I can’t look away. Everything hits me at once, and I feel like I’m outside myself, watching me watch him.

Cole.

I swallow twice, barely able to wet my throat. Elena Barros is in the pool with him, her elbows resting behind her on the edge, while he leans down into her, his forehead pressed to hers like he does with me. Her naked body glistens with water and moves in a wave, matching his rhythm as he grips her ass and fucks her, her breasts grazing his chest again and again.

Absently, I take a step, coming to the sink, and continue to try to process what I’m seeing. Cole would never do this to me. He’s not my ex. He’s not my parents.

My chest caves, too heavy to take in more air. Nausea rolls through my stomach, and bile rises up my throat.

He cups her face, kissing her, his body moving steady and strong, and they hold each other’s eyes as he enters her again and again. I can’t hear her moans, but I know she’s enjoying it.

Tears fill my eyes, I tighten my fist around the glass, and I clench my teeth. I’m angry with myself more than him. I should’ve been the one to end it when we got evicted from our apartment. I knew he only wanted me because he didn’t want to be alone. I could feel it then.

But now here we are, and he’s had the last word, hasn’t he?

My chin trembles, and the tears still over. My mom, Jay, Cole…. I am forever the most pathetic fucking person I know. I keep wishing the lousiest people wanted me. Why?

“Hey,” someone says, but the voice sounds distant. “Home early, huh? Glad you’re not wearing the corset. Did you burn it for me?”

The fridge opens, and the light pours out as someone digs in and pulls something out, but I keep staring out the window, something cold and thick slowly coating my stomach like syrup.

I can change the moment I decide.

“Jordan?” I hear Pike say. “Are you okay?”

I finally realize he’s standing next to me. The fridge door closes, and I turn to look at him, tears still wet on my cheeks.

His hazel eyes, looking amber right now, immediately narrow, concerned. But then his gaze flashes to the window, and all color drains from his face.