Seductive Chaos
Page 75

 A. Meredith Walters

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Hey, I was totally going to win the next hand,” I complained.
“We don’t need a card game to talk to each other. Let’s just have a conversation like normal people,” he suggested and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, cause we’re so normal,” I scoffed.
“You keep rolling your eyes, they’re going to get stuck like that,” he joked, smoothing the frown lines between my eyebrows with his finger.
“You said I wasn’t giving you anything. Well, let’s talk. What do you want from me?” he asked.
Damn. What a loaded question.
I took a deep breath and thought long and hard about how I was supposed to answer that.
“Why all the girls, Cole? Why wasn’t I ever enough for you?” I asked posing the question that had tormented me for so long. I hated how weak and vulnerable I sounded, but it needed to be answered. If I was ever to move on, if I was to ever get past this thing with Cole, I had to know why he continued to hook up with other women when he had me.
What was it about me that didn’t fulfill him?
“God, Viv,” he murmured, cupping my cheek.
“You have always been more than enough for me. When you’re around, everything else fades away. All I see, all I want is you.”
“Then why, Cole? Why did you humiliate me over and over again?” I demanded, my voice cracking with emotion.
He rubbed his thumb along my skin; his eyes agonized.
“Because I’m a f**king idiot. Because I thought that being with all of those women meant that I mattered. That they wanted me. I was trying like hell to fill this ugly void inside and I ended up only feeling empty. Until I was with you. And then you made me feel alive.”
My heart fluttered wildly in my chest. Hadn’t I just thought the same thing about him?
“You made me look like a moron, Cole. People think I’m a total doormat for putting up with your shit. I hate the way you make me look,” I whispered, feeling my eyes start to glaze over, hot with unshed tears.
“Baby, you’re not a moron. I’m the moron. I’m the dumbass who didn’t see what I had until it was gone. I took for granted that you were there. That you would always be there. Until you weren’t anymore. And then all this stuff started going down with the band and the only person I wanted to talk to was the one person who wanted nothing to do with me.”
I pulled back. His hand on my face was far too intimate.
“Growing up, all I had were my looks. The girls wanted me because I was nice to look at. And I used it to my advantage. I didn’t have parents that wanted me around so I found attention where I could. And then the band happened and it was like everyone wanted me. And for the first time in my life I thought that I had something that could make me happy. But I was wrong. Because those girls, the audience, they don’t want me. They want the singer. The image. There are only a handful of people on this earth that know the real Cole Brandt. And I’ve systematically shit on each and every one of them.”
Cole leaned back on the couch and covered his face with his hands. I didn’t move. I didn’t comfort him. I let him be. He needed to have this realization on his own. I wouldn’t coddle or console him. He needed to feel the pain and the ugly. He needed to see how his selfish behavior had impacted everyone around him.
This was Cole’s come to Jesus moment.
“Jose has been telling me I’d be more successful going out on my own. He says there’s a major label that wants to consider signing me, but as a solo act. Not with the Rejects,” he let out in a rush.
“Why don’t they want the Rejects?” I asked, not understanding.
Cole lowered his hands but wouldn’t look at me.
“Jose says I’m where the money’s at. I’m the one bringing the chicks in the door. I’m the image and the appeal. He’s blown so much smoke up my ass I’m probably going to float the f**k away. He says he’s found a clause that will get me out of my Pirate Records contract. And then I’ll be free to sign with who ever I want. I’ll be able to write my own music. Do my own thing. He says the guys are holding me back.”
“And what do you think?” I asked.
“I think my head is a mess and I don’t know what I think.”
Slowly, I reached out and took his hand, gripping it. He turned his palm up and twined his fingers with mine.
“Well, stop thinking with your head. What does your heart say?” I asked.
Cole’s eyebrows rose. “What does my heart say? Are you serious?” he chuckled.
I smacked his arm. “Yes, I’m serious. Stop overanalyzing and think with that thing that beats in your chest. At the end of the day, what do you want to do?” Cole was silent as he considered my question.
“What will make you happy?” I demanded.
Cole stared at me for a long time, chewing his lip ring.
“You,” he said quietly.
And then he was reaching for me and I couldn’t deny him or myself any longer.
His hand curled around the back of my neck and he pulled me toward him. And just before his lips met mine, he looked deep into my eyes and I saw something shift in their depths.
“Just you,” he whispered before he claimed my mouth with his.
It started softly, almost gently. But as with any time we were together, the tentative touches caught fire and we began to devour each other.
I parted my lips and he plunged his tongue inside, tasting every inch of my mouth. I reached down to the hem of his shirt, planning to rip it off him when he stopped me.