Page 14 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

ALISHA

Oh god! My hands scramble to silence the ear-splitting wail that's drilling into my hungover brain. I crack open one eye, wincing at the sunlight piercing through the window. The familiar purple of my loveseat comes into focus. Why am I in the living room?

I shut my eyes again, tracing the sound to my left. Once I have the source in hand, I press the button on my iPhone. Silence!

Enjoying the blessed quiet, I press my fingers against my temples, trying to ease the throbbing tension. What the hell did I do?

I frown as images of Cole kissing me flood my mind. But the sensations are too vivid, too real...

Oh, my god! No, no, I didn't.

I pull my legs to my chest, curling into a ball of embarrassment while my heart pounds behind my ribs. After a minute of trying to control my breathing, I sit up, keeping my back to the window as I rest my head in my hands.

Wasn't it a dream? Unable to shake the nagging uncertainty, I grab my phone. A squeal leaves my lips when I see the last call—12:50 a.m., Cole.

The memories hit me like a truck. I kissed him. We kissed. Oh god, I told him he makes me horny, and I admitted not having sex in months! My cheeks burn at the memory of my wine-loosened confessions. How am I going to face him?

My eyes dart to the phone as it beeps, pupils dilating at Cole's name on the screen.

I'm in a meeting—no time for a morning workout.

A dash of disappointment settles in my gut. This means no clarity on where we stand, and I hate being in the dark.

Work out tomorrow morning? I text back, trying to sound casual.

When no response comes, I force myself up.

Three glasses of water and two painkillers later, I lean against my kitchen counter, remembering how his fingers dug into my hips, how our lips fit together like puzzle pieces, how my core pooled with want.

God, I hoped the kiss would solve my problem, but it only created a new one. Now I want more. Need more.

Two hours, one hot shower, and another round of painkillers later, I admire my reflection.

The deep scarlet jumpsuit with its rounded neckline and keyhole opening gives me the courage I need after a night of wine-fueled confessions.

I check my phone one last time before forcing myself to put it away. Stop obsessing. He's at work.

I grab my car keys and head to the elevator. As I wait, I touch up my red lipstick, but the ping of arriving doors cuts the ritual short. My heart stutters when they open to reveal Samantha's smiling face—and the towering figure beside her. Cole. So much for being in a meeting.

The elevator's subtle movement makes my stomach roll, but Cole's presence next to me causes an entirely different kind of queasiness. Even angry, he radiates a heat that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

"Hey, sweetheart." I force warmth into my voice despite my hangover.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Samantha beams. "I wanted to ask you something, but Dad wouldn't give me your number." Her pout makes Cole shift uncomfortably beside her.

"Is that so?" With a smirk, I toss my loose hair over my shoulder. "No worries. You can have my number, sweetheart." I add her to my contacts as she recites her number, then send two texts—one to confirm, and another that reads: Work, Grumpy? Lying doesn't suit you.

"The sound of incoming messages fills the air. Both Samantha and Cole check their phones. His low growl makes my skin prickle with awareness, and though I can't see his face, I feel his penetrating stare like a physical touch."

My fingers drum against my thigh as we ride in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Cole's jaw clenches with each floor we pass, and I catch Samantha's concerned glances bouncing between us.

"Red looks amazing on you," Samantha says. The crimson fabric catches the elevator's harsh lighting, and I notice Cole's fingers flex against his thigh in my peripheral vision.

"I want to create my own style. Could you help me with that?"

"Sure, sweetheart. We'll find your unique style." I wink. "Soon the boys at school won't know what hit them."

Cole's growl is immediate and visceral. My phone buzzes with his text: She's fifteen. She doesn't need attention from boys.

Why are you so grumpy, Bulldozer? I reply, crossing my arms.

His jaw muscles clench ferociously as he reads, but instead of responding, he slides the phone back into his pocket and straightens his back, continuing his stare at nothing. My inner fire lights up like a candle drenched in lighter fluid.

"Alisha, I'm baking pancakes tonight. Can you join us and try them?" Samantha asks.

Cole's sharp intake of breath tells me he's hoping I'll say no. But since he's being an ass...

"I'd love to," I reply with a bright smile. "I have a weak spot for pancakes."

The second the doors open, Cole strides out. "Come on, Samantha, school is waiting," he mumbles.

She rolls her eyes at me. "He's been cranky all morning." Her lip catches between her teeth. "Do you think I did something wrong?"

Goddammit, Cole. His sour attitude is affecting this sweet girl, and she doesn't deserve it.

I touch her arm. "Trust me, his mood has nothing to do with you. Give me a moment. I'll talk to him."

Samantha nods as we exit the elevators. She waits while I stride over to Cole, who's texting on his phone near the entrance to the parking garage.

"Can we talk?" His eyes meet mine, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Can't it wait? I'm busy."

I grind my teeth when he continues typing.

"What the hell is your problem? If what happened last night is bugging you, then say it!

For God's sake, it was one stupid kiss. You better stop your immature and grumpy attitude because it makes your daughter think she did something wrong.

If I knew just kissing had this effect on you, I would have never done it. Lying in a text is childish."

His nostrils flare as his eyes pierce mine. "Are you done, firecracker?"

When I don't answer, he turns to Samantha and gestures her over. His voice shifts to something gentler when he addresses her.

"Alisha told me my lousy mood affected you. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with you. My mind is just full of things. So, please, next time, tell me to stop it, okay?" He touches her arm with care, and they share a moment that makes my heart squeeze.

"Now, could you wait for me in the car?" He hands her his keys. "I'll be there in a minute. I need to talk to Alisha."

A quiver runs down my spine when he focuses his full attention on me after Samantha leaves. "As for your accusations, let me be straightforward. I never lied in my text."

I let out a disbelieving snort but inhale sharply when he steps closer. With our bodies inches apart, he lowers his head, and his fiery breath caresses my neck.

"Listen up."

I close my eyes as his rich voice reverberates through every cell of my body.

"I canceled our workout because I had an important online business consultation at 6:45 this morning.

My reputation and paycheck depend on me doing my job well.

I can't ignore and lose the trust of my clients, especially not now that I have a kid.

I'm working more from my home office after Samantha moved in.

So, instead of being immature, I'd call myself responsible. "

Even his pissed-off voice is sexy.

"Okay, I'm sorry for that, but I still find you ignoring me in the elevator childish."

"I didn't—"

"You did," I cut in. "You were staring at the wall the entire time."

"God, that mouth of yours really doesn't know when to stop, does it?"

"No. Not when I want clarity," I say with a shrug.

"Oh, then here is the clarity. You're not the only one with a healthy sexual appetite.

When you entered the elevator, I was wondering.

.. What is happening underneath that red outfit of hers?

Are her nipples hard? Is she horny now?" he rasps, stepping closer, towering over me.

His tone should make me angry, but it doesn't, and I can't stop looking at his mouth as he speaks.

"I may look calm and collected most of the time, but I'm a man with an animalistic, sinful side that was urging me to take action to get the answers to all those questions.

That's why I was staring at the goddamn wall. "

He inches even closer, and I can smell the spicy edge of his aftershave as his hot breath brushes my lips.

"So, quit blaming me for being grumpy. You threw that explicit information in my lap.

I'm just trying to cope with it and not let it go to my head, because like you said, we are not compatible.

Stop challenging me, Alisha Alexandra McQueen. "

Before I can respond, he makes a one-eighty and charges off.

With his words still resonating in my head and affecting my body, I follow him until he's out of sight. God, he has an animalistic, sinful side? My core clenches at the thought.

Amanda's been trying to convince me to take it further since the moment I walked into the store and told her about the kiss.

"Tell him you want to have sex with him," she says as we walk to my car. "The sexual tension between you two has tripled since the kiss. He's the answer to your 'I can't have sex' problem. A couple of positive rounds with him and your issue will be resolved. What have you got to lose?"

I run a hand through my loose locks. "You should take your advice and ask Brian for sex."

Amanda's eyes widen, tension visible in her neck. "It's not going to happen," she whispers, voice trembling. "He's adamant about being just friends."

The pain dancing in her eyes stops me from pushing further. "Thanks for walking with me."

She squeezes my arm, but suddenly the hairs on my neck stand straight up. I spin around, scanning the area.

"What is it?" Amanda asks, alert.

"We're being watched." My eyes sweep the parking lot while Amanda does the same.

"Nobody's here, Alisha. Breathe."

After another survey, I let out a tense breath. Must be my imagination. I get behind the wheel with shaky hands.

"Before you go talk to Cole, make sure you apply red lipstick."

"What?"

Her eyes shimmer. "I once overheard him tell Nick and Brian he has a weak spot for women wearing red lipstick."

Thirty minutes later, I'm home, whispering "Safe" as I close my door. God, will this fear ever leave?

In my kitchen, I grab my favorite mug and fill it with water, chuckling at its text: Self-confidence is the sexiest thing a woman can wear. That's exactly what I need tonight when I ask Cole for a specific favor.

After touching up my makeup and applying my fire brigade red lipstick, I stare at my reflection. The crimson jumpsuit hugs my curves perfectly. A rush of anticipation surges through me. Let's do this.

Samantha's bright smile greets me at Cole's door. The kitchen counter is already decorated with pancake ingredients—eggs, flour, milk, salt, sugar, and two pans.

"Look what else I got!" Her eyes twinkle as she points out the toppings. "Caramel syrup, maple syrup, bananas, cinnamon, and bacon. Do you eat bacon pancakes?"

"Oh, hell yes." My stomach growls in appreciation. "Where's Cole?"

"In his office. He had a business thing to finish. He said to knock when we're ready to eat."

Perfect. Time to plan my strategy. "Let's bake. You handle the sweet ones, I'll tackle the bacon pancakes."

"Yeah! And I'll make Mom's special cinnamon banana batter."

When she bites her lip, I wrap an arm around her shoulder. "She'll be proud, and I can't wait to try them."

Her genuine smile warms my heart, and for the next hour, we talk while creating our sweet feast. I've got to admit, I have a weak spot for this young lady. She's generous, humorous, and like her father, she has the ability to give you her undivided attention—a quality I deeply appreciate.

Two piles of pancakes later, inspiration strikes. "Let's put these babies on the hot plate warmer and do something fun."

"Like what?"

"Let's dance."

She claps her hands. "Oh, yes! Mom and I used to dance all the time."

She returns moments later with small speakers, connecting them to her phone. "What music do you prefer?"

"Everything, as long as it has a decent beat so I can shake my hips."

Samantha giggles, scrolling through her phone. "I have the perfect song."

My lips curl at her excitement. "Okay, hit it, girl. I'm ready." I strike a pose, one hand on my hip, one in the air.

As Beyoncé's voice fills the kitchen, something inside me unfurls.

With Samantha's laughter mixing with the music, the constant weight of fear lifts from my shoulders.

For the first time in months, I feel light, free, normal.

The fact that it happens in Cole's kitchen, of all places, isn't lost on me.

We spin and dance, pointing to our ring fingers during "put a ring on it" with dramatic flair.

The joy radiating from Samantha's face fills my chest with a sense of fulfillment.

In this moment, there's no lurking fear, no anxiety, no memories of trauma.

Just music, laughter, and pure, unfettered happiness.

For these few precious minutes, I'm completely, gloriously free.

And I love it.