Page 21 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

COLE

Later, Grumpy. Thanks for the distraction.

I stare at the door. Why the hell does it feel like she’s running away from me? And why does it bother me? I stop my mind from finding an answer by remembering Nick’s call.

I messed up a meeting, which had never happened before. I grab my jacket, rush to my bedroom, and change the wrinkled clothing. Images of Alisha riding my dick take over, causing my pants to become tight again.

Damn, no time for that. As I seize the last things I need, I make myself a promise. Once I’m done fixing my mistake, I’m going to find out why she ran.

When I enter and close the door of the Brown home office, I find Nick behind a desk filled with documents, files, and a laptop, sizing me up. To my surprise, he's not alone, because when I glance sideways, our blond bar owner friend is sitting by the window with a grin plastered on his face.

"Look at who decides to show up," Brian says. "Where the hell were you?" Nick asks with a frown.

My eyes dart between my two best friends, who are waiting for my explanation. I sit down in the empty chair by the desk and brush my hand over my jaw.

"I visited my mother and told her about Samantha."

Both men whistle. "So," Nick starts, "how did she respond to the news that she's a grandma?"

"The only way Carmen Walker can," I say in a sharp tone. "First, she said it was impossible. Then she blamed me for keeping her granddaughter away from her, and now she wants to meet her."

"So, the visit to your mom's is the reason you forgot the meeting?" Nick asks.

I want to say yes, but with my mind floating back to the actual reason—a deliciously blonde riding me—I hesitate. Nick's loud cough pulls me back out of my daydream, and when I focus back on him, he gazes at me through narrowed slits.

Brian chuckles. "I think our friend is hiding something from us."

Nick nods, and when both men stare at me, I react. "I'm not hiding anything."

"How is Alisha doing?" Brian asks as he rises from his chair.

Something in his tone gets my attention. "Why do you want to know?"

The cheeky grin on my blond friend's face widens, and my temperature rises when he pulls out a plastic bag containing a black piece of lace fabric and dangles it in the air.

I shoot up and grasp the item out of his hand.

Brian laughs loudly while Nick's face shows a mixture of interest and confusion.

"What's that about?"

"Alisha lost it in my office," Brian explains with an even fuller grin.

Nick's nose wrinkles. "Did you and Alisha hook up?"

"Oh, hell no, not me. Bulldozer here did. He claimed her in my office after she came over and asked me to have sex with her." Brian’s eyes go back to me. "Next time you two have sex in my office, clean up your shit."

Nick's mouth drops at this revelation. "Wait. You had sex with Alisha in Brian's office?" My business partner sits up straight as he tries to tie all the pieces of information together.

"Technically, we didn't have sex," I answer.

"Then what the hell did you do there?" Brian says with a raised brow.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I answer with a quirky smirk. "Okay, both of you, sit down." When we do, Nick continues,

"Now, Cole, spill it. What the hell is going on between Alisha and yourself? I've got the feeling that she's the actual reason you didn't show up for the meeting."

I run my hand through my hair. There's no denying it. These men know me too well, so I lean back in the chair, run my hands over my face, and explain.

"So that's what happened."

My eyes go over both friends since there's nothing but silence after revealing everything that happened between Alisha and myself. Brian is staring at me with rapidly blinking eyes. But I turn my attention to Nick when his bouldering laughter breaks the silence.

"Jesus, man. Drafting up a contract is a recipe for disaster. This tops the time that I bid ten thousand dollars on Emma." And with that said, he burst out into another laughing fit.

"So this was your genius solution to prevent her from diving into bed with other men? God, I thought you were the smart one out of the three of us, but I guess I was wrong," Brian adds.

I narrow my eyes and gaze at my two best friends, who seem to find the whole situation amusing.

"Honestly, why did you draw up that contract, Cole?"

I frown my brows at Brian's question. "Didn't you listen?

By letting her sign my contract, I can help her deal with her issues and prevent her from getting into more problems. That woman is impulsive, but fragile since the attack.

Doing this, I'm helping her, and as a bonus, it will help me get my mother off my back for a few months. "

"So you're doing this because you want to help her, not because you've developed feelings for her?"

"No, I mean, yes. I like her, but you've seen how we bicker and disagree regularly.

We're not relationship material. We both acknowledge that there is a sexual attraction between us, and we both have needs.

I believe this agreement is the perfect way to resolve that issue.

Now we can have sex without expectations.

And when the sexual tension dissolves, we can end it without unpleasant feelings. "

Nick pinches the bridge of his nose while Brian's face shows a smug grin. They both glance at each other before gazing back at me. "Okay, if you reckon that will work, we wish you luck, don't we, Nick?" Brian says, exchanging another look at Nick.

"So, when are you going to tell the girls that your mother is coming over to meet them?" Nick asks curiously.

"I'll probably talk to Samantha about it when she's back from school."

"God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall of your house to observe the first encounter between your mom and Alisha. I've met your mom three times in all the years we've known each other, but one thing is obvious: she doesn't like me."

"She doesn't have a problem with me," Nick says with a bemused smile.

"Yeah, because she approves of your bank account status. In her eyes, I'm the owner of a bar that gets people drunk and makes them misbehave."

My hands briefly ball into fists, and my jaw clenches together,

thinking of the fact that my mom is coming over. Brian is right about her not liking him. My mom has different opinions and ideas about success and failure. Someone's heritage and their social status are most important in her eyes.

Nick places his elbows on his desk and leans his chin on his thumbs. "So, the reason you forgot the appointment was the fact that you were having sex with Alisha?"

"Yeah."

Nick throws his head back and lets out another one of his bouldering laughs. "God, when Emma hears this."

Right away, Alisha's words resonate through my head, and I point my finger towards him. "Don't you dare tell your wife! I promised Alisha to keep this contract stuff between her and me. She will eat me alive when she finds out I told you two."

Now Brian laughs, and he slaps me on the shoulder when he stops next to me. "Didn't expect to see the day our bulldozer got his knickers in a twist by a woman. She's got you by your balls, my friend."

With flaring nostrils, I react. "You're wrong. I'm the one who made the contract, so I'm the one with the power."

Brian and Nick exchange another look, and I shrug.

"Fine, then don't believe me. But you'll see that this will work out just fine. If you two will excuse me, I will step out and call Faster to apologize and make a new appointment."

I rise from my seat and walk to the door.

"So, no details of how good the sex was? Where did you two do it?" Brian asks with a mocking voice.

I lift my middle finger as I walk out the door; their chuckles are the last thing I hear.

* * *

After closing the front door behind me, I walk straight to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator, grab and open a bottle of Crown

Ambassador Reserve, and pour the deep amber liquid into my glass.

The citrus aroma with caramel and woody nuances fills my nose when I take the first sip.

I enjoy the rich, caramelized malty flavor, balanced by its bitter-sweet hop character and its smooth, full-bodied mouthfeel finish. God, I needed this .

Stepping outside onto the balcony, I take a seat in my favorite, king-size chair. As I lean back and balance the glass on my knee, I rub my free hand over my face, letting out a heavy sigh, when tension spreads through my body like a wildfire as old memories come rushing to the surface.

I try to ignore them by thinking of something else, and after a while, I sense a shift. The suffocating pressure in my lungs and stomach lessens as I welcome the excited heat in my lower abdomen when my mind wanders back to the pleasant encounter I had with Alex this morning.

The way she confronted me with the contract and played me by letting me believe she hadn't signed it turned me on. I have a weakness for her playful, sassy, confident side. My cock reacts as I recall her expression when I smacked her delicious behind; it was memorable.

I can't understand how no man had ever done that. She screams to be handled with a bit of pleasurable rough-ness. My full-on dominant side wants to take over every time she is around me, but I keep it in check by remembering she's still recovering from her hideous attack.

I slide my hand inside the pocket of my jacket and pull out the bag containing the black piece of lace I ripped from her body.

As I stare at it, I cringe my nose, recalling the moment Brian pulled it out of his pocket.

I wanted to punch that smirk off his face.

The thought of him or any other man touching her makes me tense up.

His question, if I'm developing feelings for Alex, makes me wonder.

Am I? No, I answer instantly. She's attractive, and her personality intrigues me, but that doesn't count as deeper feelings, does it? I put the bag back in my pocket and take another sip of my beer.

I have to prepare Sam for my mom's visit this Sunday. Right away, tension builds in my neck muscles. I love my mother, but our relationship has been challenging for as long as I can remember.

Without warning, a tidal wave of old memories and their feelings consume me.

With spinning thoughts, I set my beer down on the side table next to my chair and rise.

The deep feelings emerging from the depths of my soul overtake my mind.

In a split second, I stroll inside and walk to my bedroom and kneel.

After opening the bottom drawer of the hard wooden desk that's beside my bed, I search for that little button I haven't pressed for months.

When my index finger finds it, the familiar unlocking click of a door travels through the space.

I stand up and walk until I'm right in front of the hard wooden door in the back of my bedroom.

With one push, the door opens. Straightaway, the wellknown battle between an intense yearning and overwhelming heaviness takes over.

For what feels like ages, I stand on the threshold, gazing at what once was my life.

Demons have a field day eating away at my soul's pain as I remember what I did.

I don’t know how much time has passed when I turn and

walk away. The door closes, falls back in its lock, and once back outside, I plunge back in my chair, grab my beer, and take a generous sip in the hope the alcohol will diminish the deep anguish ready to take over my mind.

I haven't felt like this in a long time, but I don't like it.

When I notice the feelings are not fading, I pull out my phone and search for a number.

As I do, I work out the time difference to see if I'm about to wake someone in the middle of the night with my call.

When I figure it's an agreeable time, I press the button.

It only takes a few rings before it's answered.

"Dr. Angela Mezzo." "Hey, Angela. It's me. Cole?"

"Yeah, it's me," I affirm.

"Are you okay?"

I let out a long, exhausted huff.

"Old stuff coming back up?" she asks.

"Old and new, and it's starting to drive me nuts." "Then talk, Cole. I'm available the whole morning."