Page 8 of I Wish I Would’ve Warned You (Forbidden Wishes #3)

COLE

T here’s no point in trying to sleep.

My cock’s still hard and I’ve taken three cold showers back-to-back-to-back. Nothing helps. Nothing dims the image of her—flushed all over, standing there in my towel, not even pretending not to stare.

I roll out of bed and throw on sweats, cracking the window for air. The ocean breeze does nothing.

I set up my easel, flip on the lamp, and tell myself I’ll paint the need out of my system.

I log into my site and pull the next order.

Can you paint me a picture of me and this girl [attached] kissing under the moonlight? And then in the skies or the clouds, add the words in a messy cursive, “I wanted to fuck you on day one?” as like a cheeky joke?

Oh and can you make sure that our work name tags show? Hers is kinda blurry in that photo, but her name is Emily.

I freeze.

It’s not her. It’s not even close.

But that name hits me like a punch to the chest.

Emily.

I run a hand down my face, jaw clenched, silently admitting something I’ve been neglecting.

I went back to that rest stop a week after I dropped her off. Didn’t even tell myself why at the time. Just sat in the parking lot like a damn fool, hoping she’d show up.

I refreshed my messages every day. Every. Single. Day.

And now she’s here. In my house. Sleeping right next door, and serving as punchline to fate’s twisted sense of humor.

I stare at the order one more time.

Then I toss the request onto the floor and grab a fresh canvas.

And I start painting her walking into the rest stop. Again…