Until Cobi
Page 10

With tired eyes, I watch the time on my alarm clock change from 12:59 to 1:00 a.m. I’ve been lying in bed, sleep evading me for almost four hours now. Or maybe it’s me who is avoiding sleep? I wish I could say I haven’t been waiting up for Cobi, but the truth is I have been.
I pull my blanket up over my head, realizing how quiet my house is. It’s not lonely, just quiet. I had a cat for a few years; I adopted her from the Humane Society when I rented my first apartment my junior year of college. Her name was Shy. She was old and needed daily medication, but she was also sweet, even-tempered, loved to cuddle, and never acted out. Right after I adopted her, I took her to the vet for a checkup, and they told me they didn’t think she’d live longer than two years. They were right, but those two years were good ones, not only for her but for me too.
I miss her now more than ever. Having another living, breathing being around made the quiet not so loud. Maybe tomorrow I’ll check out my lease and see if it says anything about having a pet. If it says pets are okay with a deposit, I’ll talk to Tom.
I’ve never had a dog. I’m not even sure I could handle the responsibility of having a dog, but I will totally be looking at dogs. Maybe one of those cute tiny ones I can carry around with me everywhere I go. I smile at the thought then jump when I hear my doorbell ring.
My heart starts to race and my body starts to feel like it’s filled with electricity at the idea of Cobi being at my door. When the bell goes off again, I toss my blankets off me, grab my robe from the end of my bed, and head through my still lit living room toward the front door, tying the belt around my waist as I go. When I see Cobi is watching me move closer through the glass at the side of my door, my stomach fills with butterflies. I don’t hesitate to unlock the locks and turn the handle, and he doesn’t hesitate to walk right inside my house and close the door. Seriously, he’s handsome. Just like yesterday, he has on boots and jeans, with his badge clipped to his belt. Unlike yesterday, he’s wearing a button down, black fitted shirt tucked into his jeans, a shirt that is molded to his frame, showing everyone with eyes just how the style of shirt he’s wearing is supposed to fit.
“You’re in your bed, yet you still got all the lights on out here,” he says while looking around, and I start to open my mouth, but before I can respond, he continues. “Baby, the only way you’re going to be able to deal with what happened is to talk about it. Being stubborn isn’t going to fix things.”
“Pardon?” I stand a little taller so I don’t feel so intimidated with him towering over me and looking down at me.
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m fine,” I snap, leaving out the fact that Brie and Kenyon have already convinced me that I need to talk to someone, and that I have agreed to do so.
“Sweetheart, you’re scared of sleeping in your own home. You’re not fine.”
My eyes narrow on his in annoyance. “You don’t know me.”
“No, not completely, but I do know you’re being stubborn about this.”
“For your information, I’ve never liked sleeping in the dark.”
I have never been able to sleep when a room is pitch black. I have always needed a little bit of light, which is why most of the time I have my sound machine on that also gives off a soft blue glow that doesn’t keep me awake but does give me just enough light to see the room around me.
“Never?” he asks quietly while his eyes scan mine. Eyes that seem to see everything, even the things I don’t want him to see.
“Never.” I give him a shrug then lie. “And I was almost asleep when you rang my door bell.”
His lips twitch. “You’re so full of shit.”
“What?”
“You’re full of shit, babe. Saw you last night right before you conked out. Remember exactly how your eyes and face looked then. You were not falling asleep when I rang the bell. You might have been tryin’ to, but you weren’t even close to getting there.”
He remembers how my eyes and face looked before I fell asleep?
No, no. I shake my head. I will not let his words make me feel giddy.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are really fricking annoying?”
“A time or two.”
“I bet.” I rest my hands on my hips and glare at him.
“So do you wanna hang on the couch with me and watch some TV, or you wanna go to bed and try to get some sleep?”
“So you’re saying you’re not leaving.” I pause then add, “Again, even though I’m telling you that you don’t have to be here and I’m fine.”
“I’m not leaving,” he confirms.
“Is this a new service officers are providing for the citizens of this county?”
“No.” His eyes lock on mine and fill with something I don’t understand. “This is a service I’m providing exclusively to you.”
“Why?”
“Like I said before.” His voice drops before he continues, “I’m not sure you’re ready for that much honesty.”
Looking into his eyes, I know he’s right. No way in hell am I ready for his kind of honesty. “I’m going to bed.”
“Figured.” He grins and my nipples tingle. Seriously, he has great eyes, great hair, and a great body, but his mouth and his grin are over-the-top sexy. I’m sure Brie is right about every woman he comes in contact with crushing on him.
Unwilling to think about why that makes my stomach churn with unease, I turn on my bare feet, lean over the back of the couch, and grab the remote. I turn on the television then toss the remote in his direction. I don’t hear it hit the floor, so I know he catches it.
I don’t look at him again or say anything more before leaving him in my living room and heading for my bedroom. One, because I’m pretty sure whatever I’d say would come out a complete mess, making me look like a tool. Two, because I don’t want to acknowledge how thankful I am that he’s here… again. And even though I will never admit it, I feel more at ease with him in my house. And three, if I did acknowledge why he’s here, I would want to find some not-so-very ladylike ways to thank him for what he’s doing. Those things would include kissing him, probably groping him, and maybe—if I was lucky—each of us orgasming.
I shut the door to my room and get into bed. I don’t even have a chance to really think about Cobi being in my house, because I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits my pillow.
No.
Oh God, no.
Fear fills the pit of my stomach then rushes through me when I see the gun in his hands. He doesn’t say a word, but the dark look in his cold eyes says it all—he’s going to kill me.
My limbs tremble and a shiver slides down my spine.
I want to move. I want to run. But I’m frozen in place.
My eyes close.
This is the end.
Bang!
I scream, waiting to feel the pain I know is coming.
“Baby.” Arms wrap around me and I fight against their hold, needing to run, needing to get away now that I’m not frozen in place. “Calm down. You’re safe. Promise you’re safe.”
“Co… bi?” His name comes out ragged as my lungs fight to fill with oxygen.
“Breathe, you’re safe. Home,” he tells me. I try. I try so hard, but I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. I can’t seem to catch my breath. My chest hurts, and my lungs feel like they might explode. “Come on.” I’m pulled to sit on the side of the bed then I feel his hand on my back, pressing down and forcing my head between my legs. “Breathe, baby, just breathe. You’re home.”
Home… I’m home. I’m not in the middle of the woods, running for my life, not lying helpless on the ground and staring at the gun I know will kill me. One short sharp breath after another comes until eventually my lungs fill with the oxygen I need to breathe easily.
Tears fill my eyes as Cobi’s hand rubs soothing circles on my back, his softly spoken words of encouragement telling me to breathe, telling me that I’m okay, and pull me back to reality. I lift my head, and his hand slides around my neck and his thumb presses into my jaw.