Page 23 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

The pink and purple sunrise bleeds across the Boston skyline as I stretch on my balcony, savoring my morning ritual. Frantic footsteps and muttered curses shatter my peace. Inside, Samantha's throwing books and lunch into her backpack like she's racing against a ticking bomb.

"Good morning, Sam. What's the rush?"

"Late." She barely spares me a glance, jamming another book into her already bulging bag. "So late."

My eyebrow arches. "He?"

Samantha freezes, her throat working as she swallows. "Oh, I mean she. A girl from school." Her laugh comes too quick, too high. "Trying to make new friends, you know? And now I'm totally blowing it."

The front door slams before I can probe further, leaving me with the echo of her obvious lie. Well... okay then.

Back in the kitchen, the coffee machine's familiar hum fills the silence. As rich coffee streams into my mug, the hair on my nape prickles. I'm not alone anymore.

"Coffee?" I ask without turning.

"Why the hell was I sleeping in your bed?"

I turn, coffee in hand, and my mouth goes dry.

Even disheveled, she's devastating. Alisha stands in my kitchen doorway, all sleep-mussed blonde waves and crossed arms that push her breasts higher in that tight top.

Her nipples strain against the fabric, and I force my gaze back to her face before I embarrass myself.

"Stop staring, Walker, and start answering my question," she demands, but accepts the coffee I offer with greedy hands.

Here's the next section with enhanced emotional depth and tension:

I chuckle and turn to make myself another coffee. "I didn't want to leave you alone after what happened last night." When I face her again, she's perched on a barstool, tracing the rim of her mug with trembling fingers, gaze fixed on the dark liquid like it holds answers.

"Did we sleep in the same bed?"

My mind floods with images from last night—her restless movements, the way she'd murmur incoherent pleas every few minutes.

Each time, I'd stroke her back, whisper "You're safe" until she settled.

After two hours on her couch, I'd tried to carry her to her bed, but her broken whisper stopped me cold: "Please, don't leave me.

" Those four words made it impossible to abandon her, so I'd brought her here, to my bed, where I could keep her safe.

I study the coffee in my hand, avoiding her questioning eyes. "No, I took the couch."

"Oh." Pink stains her cheeks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Adorable . "Honestly, I slept amazingly in your bed. Usually, the nightmares..." She swallows hard. "But last night, nothing."

"Did you sleep okay on the couch?"

I clear my throat, deflecting. "I called the police station. They're expecting us at ten."

Her shoulders tense. "Cole, that wasn't necessary."

"Yes, it was." Steel creeps into my voice. "I want them to take you seriously. I made sure there's an officer ready to talk when we arrive. We leave at 9:30—be ready."

"Jesus." She slams her mug down. "Stop acting like 'mother the hen.' I don't need a babysitter. I can handle this myself."

Is she for real? I close the distance between us in two strides, satisfaction curling in my gut when her pupils dilate. My fingers catch her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. The air crackles between us.

"Drop the 'I'm fine' act. Because you, Alex, are far from fine."

She slaps my hand away and slides off the stool, putting two feet of space between us. Fire blazes in those emerald eyes. "Back off."

"No." I plant my feet. "You need a reality check. You're hiding."

"Hiding what!" The words explode from her.

"Your real feelings. You're acting like you didn't have a full-blown panic attack twelve hours ago. If I hadn't been there—" My voice roughens. "You'd have been lying on that floor all night. You need to talk to someone, Alex."

"Oh, fuck this." She jabs her finger into my chest. "Now you sound like everyone else. I don't fucking need a psychologist. I'll deal with this my way, so... Butt. Out."

"No chance, Alex. Not after I goddamn held you all night."

Her eyes go wide. "But you said—"

"I lied, okay?" The truth bursts out. "We slept in the same bed. You passed out in my arms on your couch, nightmares tormenting you every few minutes. When I tried to leave you in your bed, you begged me to stay. So don't tell me you're okay, Alex."

Color drains from her face. "Fuck you," she snarls and bolts. I follow her through the hallway to the bedroom, where she stops at the window, shoulders rigid. I position myself behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body.

"Alex, there's no shame in needing help." I keep my voice soft, but firm. "Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Don't." Her fingers curl into fists. "Don't talk like you understand. It's not like you've ever seen a soul pincher." A bitter laugh escapes her.

"I have. Many times." The admission costs me, makes my heart hammer against my ribs.

She whirls to face me, disbelief etched across her features. "You?"

I let out a low chuckle at her tone. "Yeah, me."

"Why?" The word comes out barely above a whisper. "Why did you need to see a psychiatrist?"

My gaze drifts to the window, to the city beyond. "My father's death."

The confession hangs between us. Then her forehead presses against my chest, the gesture so unexpectedly vulnerable it steals my breath.

"Did it help?" Her words vibrate against my shirt. "Talking?"

"At first, I thought it was bullshit." My hands itch to touch her, but I hold still. "But yeah, it helped. Still does. Gives me clarity when my mind's a mess."

She tilts her head up, searching my face. "When was the last time you went?"

Our eyes lock. "A few days ago."

"A few—" She blinks. "Why?"

I catch a strand of her silk-soft hair between my fingers, letting it slide through them. "The unexpected changes these past weeks... they affected me more than I wanted to admit. So I called her."

Her fingers start drawing absent circles on my chest, the touch both soothing and maddening. I watch her process, see the thoughts moving behind those expressive eyes.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Maybe..." She stops, pressing her forehead back against my chest.

"Maybe what, Alex?" I whisper, finally allowing my hands to rest on her back.

"Maybe..." She exhales shakily. "Maybe I want to try it."

"Try what?"

She groans at my persistence, knowing I need her to say it. After a long moment, she whispers, "Maybe I want to try talking to someone."

I cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek. When she meets my gaze, the vulnerability there breaks my heart. I brush my lips over hers, gentle as a whisper. She sighs, fingers curling into my shirt.

"How do I..." She swallows. "How do I find someone? It needs to be a woman."

"I can give you my therapist's number. She's excellent. I think you'd like her."

Hope flickers in her eyes. "You wouldn't mind?"

"No." I catch her wandering hand as it skims my torso, the innocent touch threatening my control. "But there's one small complication. She's not in Boston."

"Where is she?"

"Sydney, Australia."

Her brows furrow. "Explain."

"She emigrated. Instead of office visits, I do video calls. You could do the same—Skype sessions from your apartment."

Before I can blink, she's pulling my head down, pressing her warm mouth to mine. "Thank you," she breathes against my lips.

The soft gratitude in her voice ignites something primal in me.

I capture her mouth again, and when her tongue slides against mine, sparks explode behind my eyes.

I turn us, pressing her against the window.

Her small hands slip under my shirt, nails scraping my abs, and rational thought begins to fade.

"Alex. We need to stop."

She ignores me, pushing my shirt up to trail hot kisses across my skin. My knees nearly buckle when she licks a path up my torso. Holy—

"Alex, w-we..." My attempt at reason crumbles when her teeth graze my nipple. Fuck it.

I lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles at my back.

Her cleavage right at my eye level proves too tempting to resist. I tug her spaghetti straps down, pushing the fabric to her waist, and draw one hard peak into my mouth.

Her fingers tangle in my hair as I suck and tease, switching between gentle and demanding.

"Cole." My name comes out as a desperate plea. "I want you inside me."

My cock throbs painfully at her bold demand. I pull back to look at her, pupils blown wide with desire. "Christ, Alex. I want nothing more than to take you right here, but we need to get to the station."

She gives me that pouty look that makes me want to devour her. I can't resist pressing a quick kiss to those tempting lips.

"You promised to satisfy my needs, Walker." Her nails scrape my nape, igniting fire in my blood.

"Oh, babe." I press my forehead to hers. "When I take you, it won't be rushed against a window. I want hours to explore every inch of you."

She tugs her top back up, and when her feet touch the floor, I give her one last bruising kiss before stepping back. A glance at my watch sobers me. "Time to get ready."

She nods, smoothing her clothes. "I need to change at my place first." Suddenly, her body goes rigid. "The box," she whispers, fear creeping back into her voice.

"Already handled." I cup her cheek. "I moved it to my car this morning."

Something soft passes through her eyes as she touches my face. "Thank you." Then she's heading for the door, throwing over her shoulder, "Twenty minutes, downstairs. Don't be late, Walker."

I chuckle at her attempted bravado. "Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Alisha

The moment we exit the police station, I gulp in fresh air like I've been underwater.

But the thought that he might be watching sends ice through my veins.

My head whips from side to side, scanning faces, shadows, when Cole's warm palm settles on my lower back.

Like always, his touch acts as an anchor, melting the edge of my panic.

"You did good, Alex."

I turn to face him, grateful for the distraction. "I did well? You're the one who made quite the impression."

And he had. When we arrived, the male officer's suggestion that I might have "given mixed signals" at the bar had Cole out of his chair so fast it toppled.

He'd demanded another officer, voice like steel and eyes blazing.

The female officer who took over had been everything the first wasn't—sympathetic, thorough, professional.

She believed this was the work of a stalker intent on intimidation.

Looking back, I'm beyond thankful Cole came with me.

I tilt my head up to meet his gaze. "Buy me a drink? I'm parched."

He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. "I'm thirsty too, Alex."

The way my name rolls off his tongue sends heat pooling low in my belly. I can't help but drink him in—the crisp blue suit, white t-shirt tucked just so, black dress shoes polished to perfection. The whole smart-casual look shouldn't be legal.

"I know just the place." His hand stays at my back as he guides me through the streets. Women's heads turn as we pass, and I can't blame them. Cole commands attention without trying, his height and presence impossible to ignore.

He opens the door to a cozy coffeehouse, and immediately a woman behind the counter lights up.

"Well, look who finally showed up for that coffee!"

"Hello, Tina," Cole replies with an easy smile.

The brunette rushes over, wrapping Cole in a hug and pecking his cheek. Jealousy flares hot and sharp in my chest. Who the hell is she?

"Coffee?" Tina beams at us.

Cole's low chuckle sends warmth through my chest. "Yeah."

"Perfect. I've got just the spot." She leads us through the bustling café to a tucked-away table with a view of the terrace garden. The morning sun streams through the windows, casting everything in a soft glow. "Back in a few." She bounces away, leaving us alone.

I study the drink menu, but the words blur together. "So... Tina seemed thrilled to see you. One of your hookup girlfriends?" The question comes out sharper than intended.

Silence stretches between us until I glance up. Cole's watching me with barely suppressed amusement, his lips twitching.

"What?" I snap.

"Did her greeting bother you, Alex?"

"No!" I lean back, crossing my arms. My eyes narrow at him. "But you signed that contract, remember? Six months, no other women."

His grin widens, and I want to smack it off his face. "Relax. Tina's not—and never was—a hookup. She and her husband needed an investor for this place. Nick handled the money, I handled the contracts. That's all."

Heat creeps up my neck. To save face, I change topics. "Sam mentioned your mom's visiting."

He drags a hand down his face, tension returning to his shoulders. "Yeah. Told her about Samantha, now she's determined to meet her. She's coming Sunday."

"And..." I tap my menu against the table. "Did you tell her you're seeing someone?"

"I did. She's eager to meet you." His jaw tightens. "Though she's skeptical I'm serious."

A laugh escapes me. "You've played her before, haven't you?" His smug expression says it all. "So, am I the kind of woman your mother wants for you?"

Immediately, his brows draw together in a scowl. "My mother and I differ on what I need in my dating life. Her expectations..." He trails off, gaze drifting to the window, withdrawing into himself.

Hating the sudden distance between us, I slide my foot up the inside of his leg under the table. His attention snaps back to me, eyes darkening. "Alex," he warns, voice rough.

"Yes, Mr. Walker?" Innocence drips from my words.

His stare pins me to my chair. "You're playing with fire."

"Maybe I want to get burned." My heel travels higher up his thigh. "I'm still soaking wet from this morning, Cole."

Something primitive flashes in his eyes. "Up. Now." He stands, voice brooking no argument. "We're leaving."

Heat pools between my legs as I follow him to the counter. He apologizes to Tina, something about an urgent matter needing attention. Her knowing look follows us out.

The moment we hit the sidewalk, Cole's hand connects with my ass in a sharp pinch. I yelp, the sound lost in the city noise.

His lips brush my ear, and desire pools low in my belly. "When we get home, you're mine ."

The promise in those words makes me weak in the knees. Part of me wants to run, to hide from the intensity of what's building between us. But a bigger part wants to surrender completely, to let Cole Walker tear down every wall I've ever built.

And that terrifies me more than any stalker ever could.