Page 9

EDEN

You have nothing to be ashamed of Eden, ever…

T he note I found just as I left the townhouse after Zoe and I had our little talk was in my pocket. My own personal paper security blanket. On the way over, I played with it, twirling and flipping it between my fingertips. But once the car stopped in front of the ridiculously oversized house, I quickly put it in my pocket so that I could touch it if I needed to.

And I knew I would. Because if nothing else, I could count on my mother and Randall trying to convince me to move back into the house with them and stop being silly. Living out my sorority girl fantasy with Zoe in the city.

More like on the outskirts of the actual city. But they thought it was a phase.

My hair.

The bookstore .

The signing.

Design.

Maybe it was, but I liked it. Being away from them meant I could breathe. They meant well, but I refused to go back. When I arrived, I almost didn’t go in, thinking I could hide in the small guest house and wait for the car to come back and get me. The cool air gave me shivers, but for the first time in a few days, the sense of being watched was gone. Or maybe it changed into a thing I wasn’t afraid of any longer. Different.

“Eden! Sweetheart!” My mom greeted me as Izzy squealed and engulfed me in her signature Izzy hug. Full force, no holding back. Even when we Face Timed back in college, it was like she sent those hugs to me. All Izzy, and all accepting and never judging. Not even for a second.

“E!! I can’t wait for you to meet Cole. I know we don’t talk about him that much,” she shot a side eye at her father who was opening a bottle of wine at the oversized granite island, “but he’s the best.”

“For a brother I barely knew you had, I’m kinda wondering how he can be the best, Iz,” I teased, none too gently. I hated that Izzy had an estranged brother. We’d barely gotten to know each other before our parents married, but she was my little sister. When I escaped to go to college, I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life. Her brother, in my opinion, was a complete and utter asshole for deserting her. Though, her dad was more protective than those dogs at airports sniffing out all the things people tried to smuggle on planes. And not as cuddly.

“We all know whose fault that-”

“Izz, we’ve discussed this,” her dad warned, earning an eye roll in typical teenage response mode from her. “Sometimes adults do dumb things and it takes them a long time to figure out how to make it right.”

Mom smiled at him, and I thought about how they were kinda perfect for one another. Even if the overbearing had started to come my way at the end of high school. Which was why I went far away. Chicago meant freedom and the chance to live without suppressing who I was. They let me go, and paid for college, but were very vocal about how it wasn’t their first choice.

“You know, the guest house is probably the same size as Zoe’s place, Eden. And I’d love having you here again.”

I snatched the wine glass from Randall, who winked at me. “Traitor. No, wait. Conspirator.”

He placed a hand over his heart, gray eyes twinkling. “But she’s right. Having you here would mean your mother wouldn’t worry about your safety or where you were.”

“Twenty four guys. And I live in a very safe neighborhood with lots of burly hockey players, some of whom no longer have teeth which means they can take and throw a punch.” I teased none too lightly. “And it’s close to Book Boyfriends and Lattes. And I like my privacy.”

“But, sweetheart, we’d be close by in case you had an episo-”

“Mom.” I sat my glass down as Izzy came to stand by me. I placed a hand on my sister’s arm. “It’s ok, Izz. Mom is just way too overprotective and keeps forgetting she has you to smother, too.”

Izzy snorted. “Oh, trust me, they both do.”

My stepfather came around the island and stood behind his wife, hands on her shoulders. “The offer stands, anytime Eden. It's all furnished and ready if you ever want to come and stay until you find a place of your own or need time to figure anything out.”

And there it was. The whole Eden-hasn’t-figured-out-life-the-way-we-wanted-her-to lead in. I placed both of my hands on the counter. “I appreciate the offer, but I actually love what I’m doing right now. And if I decide to try something else, then I try something else. Now, can we please just let it go and not have the awkward tension in front of the step sibling I kinda barely knew I had but never met?”

Which was why when Randall’s son entered the room, we were laughing and enjoying each other’s company despite the inevitable tension that was bound to take over like a big, huge and not as cute as a real elephant in the room.

Everything went as well as I could’ve hoped.

Until I noticed it.

The two birds tattooed on his right hand.

The same tattoo I’d been so damn transfixed with on the masked man from the haunted house.

The same man who’d chased me.

Then fucked me.

And I was so sure I’d hear from after the way he’d made sure I was okay afterward.

But two weeks, and…nothing.

Until dinner with my parents.

Where I met my stepbrother for the first time.

The masked hockey player who made my haunted house chase me fantasy come to life, better than any romance novel could.

And he acted like he didn’t know who I was. And in fact, I was being a bit of an asshole, if not grumpy as hell since the moment Izzy introduced us.

As soon as the pieces fell into place, I freaked out, all the carefully crafted image of me not giving my parents anything to think I was anything but normal and ran from the room.

Hid in the bathroom and texted Zoe, who obviously was as busy as she hinted she’d be because no answer after three texts.

EDEN: HOLY FUCKING HELL.

EDEN: Z, I need you. Are you with Coach Daddy?

EDEN: I think I did something really fucked up.

EDEN: ZOE MILES!!! WHERE ARE YOU?

EDEN: I FUCKED MY STEPbrOTHER!!! IZZY’S BIG MYSTERIOUS brOTHER!!!

EDEN: Shit, did Noah know? Don’t teammates share? Why didn’t he tell me?

EDEN: No wait, BFF code is stronger.

EDEN: Zoe?

I gave up, because Zoe would only ignore me if she was off with Coach Hottie sneaking for a booty call or maybe just trying to run away from him.

Fuck, wait that was my kink.

Shit, was that a kink?

Suddenly, I wished I had taken the kink test Delena Bennett made all her characters take because I was pretty fucking certain my taboo kink or whatever was way off the charts.

Cole Sunders was my stepbrother.

And the person I let chase me and fuck me in the haunted house without ever seeing his face .

I was in so much trouble.

After dessert, I stood, grabbed my coat and was just getting ready to get a car on my app when Randall said, “Why don’t you give Eden a lift, Cole? She’s had a few glasses of wine and I’d feel better if you drove her and not some stranger.”

“Oh, that’s ok, I do it all the time.”

“Really, sweetheart, let Cole drive you,” my mother added as she patted my arm.

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience-”

“It’s not an inconvenience. I’ll take you. I’m headed that way, after all,” the man I’d been getting off to using every new suggested toy Indie threw my way said, as if I’d never had a choice in the first place. Decision made, everyone started saying their goodbyes, while I stood there, mouth open.

Izzy hugged me, and whispered, “Movie marathon soon?”

I pulled back and nodded, my eyes darting to Cole and the door and the fact that I’d be alone with him in minutes and he obviously was annoyed with me. She handed me my coat, and as I shrugged it on, I felt the slip of paper in the pocket. But it did nothing to quell the incessant beating of my heart. If I had a heart attack, at least I was dressed really cute and had a matching set underneath my clothes.

“Call me later this week, Cole, and we’ll go for drinks and catch up some more. I appreciate you coming over.” His father shook his hand, and seemed like he wanted to say more, but then just stepped back as my mother hugged Cole, then me.

“Drive carefully, and it was so nice to finally meet you, Cole. I hope now that we’re in the same place, that this will happen more often.”

Cole didn’t answer except to nod. One hand went to the door to open it, the other to the small of my back to guide me out. Outside, the air had chilled from earlier, and I released a breath. The silence between us a tangible presence in the cool night. Leaves crunched beneath my feet, and I became acutely aware of every sense. The smell of the leaves, the feel of the colder temperature on my skin, each breath I drew louder than the last. The way I wanted to taste his kiss again. Forbidden now that I knew who he was but nonetheless, I wanted it.

But he obviously didn’t since he hadn’t uttered a single word or acknowledged me other than guiding me out the door to his car. A black SUV, sleek and immaculate. The passenger door opened without a sound. Cole leaned his forearm on the side of the door watching as I clicked the seatbelt into place, then he tapped the top and shut the door. The sound made me jump, my body so tight and on edge after figuring out who he was. If I was being honest with myself, my body recognized him before that moment.

The lingering scent I remembered from the haunted house hit my nose, along with that new car smell and leather. And God, the sensory memories made my thighs clench together, my breath coming faster. If he had recognized me or even looked at me like I wasn’t beneath him, maybe my reaction would be different.

Warmth radiated from the heaters, because he must have hit the remote start and warmed up the inside before we said our goodbyes. Cole opened the driver’s door a beat longer than expected, standing outside as if he was annoyed at being in the same space, breathing the same air as me.

His eyes remained focused on the road after a single glance at me before backing down the driveway. The hand gripping the steering wheel flexed, the damn tattoo like a beacon in the night, calling me and reminding me of every second I ran and tried to get away and when he caught me. How Cole owned me, and how I had nothing but absolute and implicit trust in him not even knowing who he was.

But, now, my heart and head were arguing and in such juxtaposition that I was second guessing everything I felt that night and since. Story of my life.

He obviously saw something in me he didn’t like. Maybe Randall told him about what he and mother called my episodes, which were in truth, just a girl who liked staring at the moon and avoiding the world. Or certain people.

“Are you warm enough?”

His voice cut me to the bone, and I jerked my head. “I’m fine.” My eyes tracked the movement as he reached over and turned up the heat. I refused to give him the satisfaction of my full attention. If I didn’t fit into his ideal standards but he could fuck my brains out in a haunted house, then he didn’t deserve a second of anything I had to offer.

Some people might dye their hair for Halloween, but this was me. 365.

Pink. Purple. I sparkled in the light and the dark. And I wouldn’t change for anyone. Not any longer.

Well, at least, not much.

But this man wasn’t going to get an ounce of regret from me.

“How long have you been in Montreal? ”

He grunted in response.

Grunted.

“A month or so.”

Silence stretched out. He may not want to talk, but I was suddenly not in the mood to give him what he wanted. Petty little victory, but right now, my wounded heart would take what it could get.

“And do you like it here?”

He made a noncommittal noise. Not quite a grunt, but grumpy in its circumference.

“Is this really the first time you’ve seen Izzy in eight years?” This might be the one thing that pissed me off more than anything. I’d grown up as an only child, and would have loved to have a sibling to share everything or anything with. Izzy was as much my little sister as his, maybe even more so.

“You’ve probably known her longer than I have,” he admitted, his voice strained.

I snorted, and the frozen in place grump of a hockey player shot me a look before his midnight blue eyes slid back to the road. I pretended for a second that that look meant something more. “You’re right, I have. She’s amazing. And I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.”

The rest of the way to the townhouse laid heavily between us, and as much as my body reacted to being so close to him, the moment he put the SUV in park, I reached for the door handle. But before I could do anything, much less open the passenger door, he was there. Big, brooding, sexy, and not mine. Not that he was for even that night.

I had been his, before he chased me in the darkness...and infinitesimally more after, when he caught me. Branded my body and soul as his. Navy eyes locked on to mine, my body locked into place and afraid to move or break the tension. I wanted it, craved it, Craved what he, only he could give me. But my phone chose that moment to interrupt, buzzing insistently. Thinking Zoe had finally deigned to answer my frantic texts earlier. Spell broken, I glanced down, and my stomach sank.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Careful, Eden. Not everyone will take care of you like I will.

Holy hell. I felt the color drain out of my face, a chill that scared me more than anything in the last few months raced up the back of my neck.

“Eden.”

My hands shook, and the habitual denial refused to come. This message wasn’t like the other ones. Frantic, my head shot up and I pushed out of the car, past Cole. I searched up and down the street because he had to be watching. Right now. Somewhere out in the night.

“ Eden.”

A hand gripped my forearm and I spun, only to crash into a hard wall of hockey player slash step brother slash masked fantasy come to life. “Tell me what happened?”

The words wouldn’t come, and before I could stop him, Cole took my phone from me. His face turned to stone as he read the message.

“ Fuck.” He bit out the word as he scrolled through the messages. “How long has this been happening, Eden?”

I wanted to deny it, and take my phone from him. Run and hide. But having someone else share this secret, especially Cole? I hadn’t dawned on me until that moment how much fear I had been pretending didn’t exist. Or that it was real and quite possibly not harmless.

“ Eden . Tell. Me. Now. ”

I tried to get the words out, but nothing left my lips. Not even my breath.

“Fuck,” he swore. “Breath. And give me your keys.”

I numbly handed them over, obeying him without question. His hand, warm and steady, was at my back, guiding me up the stairs. I barely registered him putting the key in the front door and unlocking it, or walking inside. The keysmade a clanging sound as he tossed them in the bowl by the door, then turned to me and rubbed his hands up and down my arms. Warmth returned to my frozen limbs, the blood following his orders. Cole guided me over to the couch and slipped the throw blanket over my shoulders.

“You don’t have to-”

“I do.”

Those two words stirred feelings back up in my belly. Made me want things out of my grasp. Broke through the numbness in my limbs and in my mind. “You don’t though.” I went to stand, but the look he shot me stopped me. I immediately sat back down, slipped my heels off, and tucked my feet under as I snuggled into the blanket. I wanted to pout, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I didn’t like being told what to do, but when he did, with just a look, I felt…taken care of.

Of course. Because I was his ‘sister’ for fuck’s sake. And nothing more.

A second later, Cole held out a steaming mug, and placed it in my hands when I unearthed them from under the blanket. “Drink.”

My heart wanted to melt, because he made chamomile tea in my favorite ‘Resting Witch Face’ mug.

I hated this feeling of wanting him but knowing he didn’t want me. Not anymore .

We sat in silence, both tense and comforting. A few minutes later, I sat the tea down. He let out a sound that made me think he was happy I had drunk some of it.

“Now, tell me how long this has been going on? Were the texts the first time this person contacted you?”

I bit my lip, knowing that once I told him, it would be real. And I was scared about what that meant.

I had a stalker.

My tongue felt thick as I swallowed. “A few months.”

“ Months?” he bit out.

I nodded, my cheeks heated. The blanket, soft and warm, scratched my skin. Like I didn’t deserve the comfort it offered, or the hulking man in front of me who wore a murderous expression. At least he wanted to protect his ‘sister’, I thought. “At first, it was just a comment here and there on my social media posts. Harmless. About,” I fluttered my hands, “how pretty I was, or about where I was.”

“And then.” Cole sat, his navy eyes heated, jaw tight. Elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he was afraid he’d hit something. Scary, but I wasn’t scared. Not of him.

“Then…the DMs started. Same thing, but a little…more. I can’t say what or when it changed, just that it did.”

He nodded at my phone on the low table in front of us. “When did the texts start?”

I sucked in a breath. “Right before the notes. About three weeks ago.”

“Notes?” Again, Cole radiated anger, barely contained rage. “What kind of notes?”

Since he’d scrolled through the texts, I left out the details of those. I shrugged a shoulder, my ‘it’s-nothing” defense mechanism kicked in high gear. The glare Cole shot my way was nothing short of a command.

Cut the bullshit, his eyes said .

“They felt…feel…like a warning,” I admitted, hating and feeling relief at the words.

“Pack a bag.”

“Pack a…why?”

He stood and headed to the stairs that led to the second floor. And my bedroom. “You’re not staying here. Alone.”

I got to my feet, the blanket falling to the floor. “I’m not going to our parents' house. No. No way.” The panic attack I’d been fighting simmered and threatened to burst free of the cage I’d kept it in.

“You’re not.”

“I-wait, I’m not?”

He climbed the stairs, and I followed. When he reached the second floor, he said over his shoulder. “No, you’re not. Which one is yours?”

I pointed at my door. “That one,” I responded, confused. “If I’m not going back, where am I going? It’s too late to check into a hotel, and I don’t have money-”

When he reached my door, second on the right, he muttered. “With me.”