Page 22 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

ALISHA

I rush up the stairs and when I'm midway in the hall, I stop and yell, "Bella, I'm back, and I've got ice cream. Where are you?"

The sound of shattering glass followed by curses leads me to her studio. Paint fumes assault my nose as I push open the metal door, my retinas overwhelmed by an explosion of colors. Through the chaos of canvases, I find my artistic friend bent over, cleaning the paint-stained floor.

"Next time, don't yell my name at the top of your lungs," she mutters. "You gave me a freaking heart attack."

"Sorry." I pick up a shard of glass on my way to her.

Bella places her paintbrushes aside and wipes her hands on the towel hanging from her easel.

When she turns, I can't help but chuckle at her outfit - old stained jeans and a black v-neck shirt reading If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.

Her red hair's tied up with a ribbon, and colorful paint smears decorate her right cheek.

"That is fucking gorgeous, Bells," I declare, pointing to her newest creation. She's so goddamn gifted.

Bella snorts, gazing at the canvas standing in the middle of the room. She shrugs. "I don't know." Her fingers intertwine behind her head as she studies it. "It's missing something, and I can't figure out what it is."

She lowers her arms and turns her attention to me. "So, my dear Alisha, are you ready to tell me why you've been staying at my place these last four days instead of living in your gorgeous apartment?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Bella shifts her weight to one side and taps her finger against her chin while observing me. "Yeah, because the way you're brushing your hand along your arm tells me something is bothering you."

I catch myself mid-movement and drop onto the small lounge in the corner. Through the enormous glass window in the ceiling, fluffy clouds drift by, offering a momentary escape from her knowing gaze.

"Okay, speak up. Has it to do with the attacker?"

"No. This has to do with another man."

Bella sits next to me, mimicking my posture. "Let me guess, Cole?"

I hum in agreement.

"So what's going on with you two?"

The words burst out before I can stop them. I tell her everything - how I asked Cole for sex, his initial rejection, the contract, and the mind-blowing encounters that followed.

"Jesus, girl, ever heard of the term dating?"

"What?" I sit up straight, turning to face her. "We're not dating. We're helping each other out. He helps me with the intimate issue I've got going on, and in return, I help him with Samantha and his overbearing mother."

"Okay, then what's the problem? Does he lack in the sex department?" She raises a curious brow.

I groan and run my hands through my hair, my body tingling as memories flood back. "No, he isn't lacking. To be honest, it was fucking amazing."

"Ooh..." Her face breaks into an enormous grin.

"What does that, Ooh , mean?"

"It means that I figured out what's going on with you."

"Okay, enlighten me, wise friend," I say, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Sex with Cole twisted your feelings into a chaotic mess, and now you have a hard time dealing with them. That's why you've been avoiding his calls these last few days and sleeping here."

I clear my throat. "Maybe."

Standing, I walk through the room, my eyes traveling over the many paintings until one catches my full attention.

The artwork shows a woman and man's face inches apart.

The intensity between them blasts off the canvas - raw feelings lingering in the space between their almost-touching lips.

Bella used black, grey, and white, but the woman's bright red lips draw the eye like a beacon.

"God, this one is outstanding."

"Yeah, it turned out how I wanted. But then again, I had my inspiration source for that one."

I can't tear my eyes away from the painting. "What's it called?"

"Irresistible Attraction," she says.

"That's the perfect name for it. If you need a place to hang it, I'm happy to promote it in my house." I send her a genuine smile over my shoulder.

Bella walks over, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Maybe, one day. But let's go back to why you're here. Cole. Want my opinion?"

"Yeah," I mumble, still mesmerized by the art.

"Since you already signed the contract, and the sex is out of this world. Enjoy it."

I twist my head, raising a brow. "So, you don't think I'm a horny fool for signing that stupid contract?"

Bella chuckles. "Horny? Yes. But a fool, absolutely not. I'm rather curiously wondering if Mr. Walker has other motives for drawing up that contract."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she murmurs, but her eyes meet mine with a knowing grin. "You just enjoy six months of deliciously passionate sex. You deserve it." She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.

I hug back. "Thanks, Bells."

"Anytime, hun."

"So what about we eat ice cream, and when we're done, I'm going home so you can go back to finishing another masterpiece?"

Bella snorts. "A pain in the butt piece is a better description."

I chuckle. "Thanks for letting me stay without demanding answers."

"Anytime. Now please tell me you bought my favorite Ben and Jerry's flavor, Coffee Coffee BuzzBuzzBuzz."

After grabbing two spoons from the compact kitchen, we devour our icy treat, talking about everything and nothing, the way only best friends can.

Nine at night.

My feet ache in my Valentino Garavani Rockstud pumps as I stumble toward the elevator. The triple strap silhouette and polished pyramid studs usually make me feel powerful, but right now, I just want to kick them off.

"Alisha!" Daniel's voice startles me. He rushes over, a package in his hands. "This has been here a few days."

The moment the small red-wrapped box touches my palm, something cold slithers down my spine. My fingers tremble as I thank him.

Inside the elevator, Samantha's voice breaks through my unease. "Alisha!"

I stick my arm out reflexively, catching the doors. "Thanks," she says, slipping inside.

"No problem, Sam." My fingers tighten around the package, that cold feeling refusing to leave.

"Oh, wow, are those new?" She points to my heels, momentarily distracting me.

"Yes, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Oh my god, I love them."

My lips curl, and I catch myself thinking, I hope Cole likes them too. "So, what were you doing out so late?"

Samantha shrugs, then bites her lip. "Okay, a boy from school asked me to hang out, and we went for a milkshake," she rambles. "Please don't tell Cole." Her eyes beg while she twists a blonde lock around her finger.

I chuckle, grateful for the momentary distraction from the weight in my hands. "What's his name?"

Her eyes widen with relief. "Leo." A blush creeps across her cheeks as she tucks the strand of hair behind her ear.

"And what did you tell Cole?"

She gives a shy smile. "That I was meeting with a girl to do homework while drinking a milkshake."

I chuckle. He has a lot to learn. "Cole has been very grumpy these last few days. I think it has to do with his mother coming this Sunday to meet me."

"Are you coming to dinner tomorrow? I'm making spaghetti bolognese," she says, pride lighting up her face.

"Absofuckinglutely. I love those carbs."

Her snicker follows me as the doors close.

Inside my apartment, I throw my key on the side table and place the package on the dinner table. After freeing my feet and giving them a quick massage, I head to my bedroom. The hot shower helps ease the tension in my muscles, but that nagging feeling about the package remains.

Wearing workout pants and a red spaghetti strap top, I grab one of Emma's relaxing herbal tea bags. As the water steeps, my eyes keep drifting to the red-wrapped box. These must be the scented candles I ordered online.

I pull the package closer, remove the glitter paper and tape, and flip the box open. My body jerks back violently. "No!"

With my heart hammering against my ribs, my eyes dart over the contents. A photo and a note lie beside each other on a bright coral piece of clothing. Bile rises in my throat as I read the words.

Red looks so good on you. See you soon, doll face.

Violent shivers rack through my bones as I stare at my image.

Oh my god, he's been following me everywhere.

This is a close-up from last week - I recognize my new lipstick.

Jesus, he's photoshopped it, making it look like blood runs from the corners of my eyes.

Is this his way of saying he wants to hurt me again?

A loud knock on the front door makes me scream.

"Alex? What's wrong? Open the door."

I'm frozen, but when my brain registers Cole's voice, my feet move on autopilot. The moment I open the door, he storms inside, ready to fight. His eyes scan the space, but when he sees I'm alone, he asks, "Alex? What's going on? Why were you screaming?"

Unable to speak, my shaking hand points to the table.

As Cole strolls over, memories of the attack flood back.

His face, his touch. I scrunch my nose, remembering the bitter smell of him and his alcohol breath.

It was disgusting, and it makes me feel dirty all over again.

The sensations are so real that when a hand touches my elbow, fear takes complete control.

He's back to hurt me. My vision blurs as memories of the sharp pain and his sinister smile make me launch my fist at the figure in front of me.

But it's like hitting concrete. I have to get away.

I try to run, but my legs turn to cooked spaghetti, and I drop to the floor.

No, I have to escape. He's going to hurt me again.

Knowing it's too late, I curl into a fetal position.

"Please, don't hurt me, please." Tears stream down my cheeks as the pressure in my chest becomes unbearable.

But then a deep, familiar voice cuts through the suffocating clouds of panic. "You're okay. No one will hurt you. Please, Alex, open your eyes and look at me."

My lashes part, and as my foggy mind clears, I see Cole kneeling beside me. My gaze travels up his black pants, white button-up shirt, and when our eyes connect, his name escapes my trembling lips. "Cole?"

He nods and slides closer. "I'm here." When his thumb touches my wet cheek, I grab his hand and press my face against it.

The warmth of his skin and his familiar scent ground me.

Desperate to stop this raging fear, I crawl up and snake my arms around his neck, clinging to him like he's my lifejacket.

With my face snuggled into the crook of his neck, I close my eyes and whimper, "P-please, make it stop."

"Keep breathing, Alex."

He scoops me up bridal style and carries me to the couch. "You're safe. He will never hurt you again. I promise," he says, stroking my back with his palm.

"But he already is. How can I forget when he keeps tormenting me like this?"

"We'll find him and put a stop to it. I'm calling the cops."

When he reaches for his phone, I tug at his shirt and lift my head to look at him. "N-no, please. I can't do that now." Another tear falls, landing on his pristine white shirt.

He lets out a tense exhale. "Okay... but we'll go to the police first thing tomorrow morning. And I'm coming with you."

Too tired to argue, I nod and rest my head back against his torso. "God, I hate being weak."

A strong finger lifts my chin. "Look at me," he says in a soft but serious tone.

As I stare into his stormy skies, his thumb caresses my skin.

"Showing your emotions doesn't make you weak.

It strengthens you. You learn how to deal with them through experience.

So I never want to hear you call yourself weak again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," I answer with a weak smile.

I place my head back on his chest. "Thank you, Cole."

"You're welcome, Alex."

His hands return to my back, caressing my skin in circular motions, and I love it. Being in his embrace, surrounded by his warmth and scent while listening to his steady heartbeat, makes me feel safe and secure. This is the only place I want to be at this moment. I need him.

The realization hits me like a thunderbolt.

My body tenses, and Cole must feel it because his hands still on my back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie, burying my face deeper into his shirt, inhaling his scent. But my mind races. This isn't part of our agreement. These feelings weren't supposed to happen.

His arms tighten around me, and for now, I let myself pretend this is more than just a contract between us. Just for tonight, I'll allow myself to need him this way.

Tomorrow, I'll be strong again. Tomorrow, I'll face the police and deal with my stalker. Tomorrow, I'll remember this is just business between us.

But tonight, in Cole Walker's arms, I'm exactly where I need to be.