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A simple thing made a difference, and for some reason, that hurt. It hurt that he wanted to make my life better.
“Cole?” I waited for him to respond. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. It was a stupid idea anyway.
“You want me in bed with you?”
He knew; he rounded the bed and slipped in next to me. My body relaxed and my hand found his. Whatever our fate would eventually be wasn’t going to happen tonight, so I hopped on the road to hell to ride it all night long.
“I need you.”
I let the words hang in the air and he formed his body carefully around mine, so he engulfed me, but my leg and ankle were safe. My brain was obsessing over the past with Paxton now that Cole was willing to talk about him.
“How many portraits did you paint of Paxton?” I hated the insecurity.
“Three.” His nose nuzzled my neck. “I painted one for an art class in college, one as a wedding present, and one as an ‘I’m sorry’ a couple years before he died. It turned out that I painted one a decade. Anything else you want to know, Pretty Boy?” Cole kissed my shoulder.
No. My brain celebrated with cartwheels and backflips. He had already painted three times as many paintings of me than of Paxton. It boggled my mind, and I hated unsolved puzzles. Spreadsheets didn’t work on people.
Hope pierced my heart and dared me to deny it.
Chapter thirty-seven
Cole
“CanIgetanorder to go?” I asked the server after I finished the meal I was supposed to share with Shane.
Shane Reynolds was the most stubborn man I’d ever met, and if I wasn’t so in love with him, I’d literally shake some sense into him.
I knew our fantasy bubble of living together while I took care of him would end. I hated packing up his things and taking him back to his apartment. He had a hard time admitting he didn’t like it either. He wouldn’t admit that he slept better in my arms and loved my cooking. Or that his beautiful brain relaxed when we were together.
He acted like normal people were awake and texting at 3 a.m. But I was thankful he was willing to give me another chance. It seemed to surprise him as if the words were out of his mouth before his too-fast brain had calculated the result.
There were so many mistakes in my past to learn from, and I was determined not to repeat any with Shane. He was too important for me to let my ego get in the way. I would show Shane nothing but patience and love.
Sharing his pain and past would wait until he was ready to talk about it. I’d tested the waters by asking about the dragon tattoo I’d done for him. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t talk about it. I guessed that it related to the traumatic event in his past.
I hadn’t understood the amount of time he’d sacrificed away from work for me until he didn’t. We were still exclusive, but he wouldn’t commit to calling me his boyfriend, so if I labeled our arrangement, it would be casually dating. Wanting so much more was slowly killing me, but I had to trust that if he could count on me, then our relationship would move forward.
Sitting alone at a table for two, an hour past our meeting time, hurt. Shane had confirmed earlier in the day, but I knew from experience if he got caught up in a project, he lost all sense of time. It wasn’t personal, but it fucking sucked.
The week after he went back to his apartment, he only showed up for one out of our five planned dates. A Sunday brunch since he’d visited his sister on Saturday and worked Sunday afternoon and night. He claimed he was behind after being out of the office for a week.
I knew he wasn’t purposely avoiding me, but I also knew that Branson Financial would go on without him. My father did not care if the job was causing Shane to miss sleep and meals. Donald wouldn’t hesitate to replace Shane if he thought it was the best thing for the company.
Shane’s goal was his life’s mission, and I would not hold him back or make him feel guilty. My gut screamed at me to tell him that my father was a liar and a user, and that Shane probably wouldn’t get the promotion he was promised. But my head knew that Shane had to work it out on his own. I dropped off dinner for him at the security desk.
A half hour later, I got a text.
Pretty Boy: You are amazing. Sorry I missed ourdinner!
Me: Please make sure you eat and try to sleep tonight
Pretty Boy: It will get better after the board meeting.
Me: Love you
Shane didn’t respond, and I didn’t expect him to. I wouldn’t respond to his misconception that things would get better after the meeting, and he never responded to my declarations of love. We were at a standstill, and although I’d removed the “I” fromI love you, I wouldn’t stop telling him.
Shane had already worked a hundred hours this week.