Page 52 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

ALISHA

The silence in the car is deafening. Cole's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his face a mask of stone, while Samantha stares out the window, wiping silent tears that keep falling. The city lights blur past us, each one a reminder of the shattered evening behind us.

As we enter the apartment, Samantha and I watch Cole walk halfway through the living room before freezing. His shoulders fall with a long sigh, the weight of fifteen years of lies visible in his posture. No words, no movement - just a silent statue of pain.

Samantha moves toward her father, and I hold my breath as she wraps her arms around him from behind. Such a simple gesture, but loaded with meaning.

"Dad? I know why Mom accepted the check from Carmen. Can I tell you?"

He turns, and something in his eyes breaks my heart. He nods, unable to speak.

"Mom told me she found out Grandma was sick when she was pregnant with me. Nanna needed medication, but her insurance didn't cover it." Samantha's voice wavers. "Mom said she made an arrangement to get the money to pay for the medicines."

Cole cradles Samantha's face between his palms, tears gathering in his eyes as they stare at each other. The revelation adds another layer to this complicated tragedy - no villains, just broken people making impossible choices.

"I'm sorry, Sam. If I—"

"Dad, it's okay." The forgiveness in her voice is pure, unconditional.

They embrace tightly, and Cole's whispered "I love you, Sam" carries years of lost moments within it.

"I love you too, Dad." After a moment, Samantha pulls back slightly. "Do you mind if I go to my room to call Rachel?"

"No, go ahead."

As Samantha disappears down the hallway, Cole's eyes meet mine. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, he turns and hurries from the room. When he reappears minutes later, he's changed into grey workout pants and a white t-shirt, his armor against emotional pain.

"I'll be in the gym. Don't stay up for me." The door slams behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot.

I sink into the nearest chair, letting out a heavy sigh. I'll give you time to cool off, Cole Walker, but I won't let you push me away. Not with this.

An hour later, I slip into the gym dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie.

The dark space is broken only by light from the back area.

Following the rhythmic sounds of fists hitting leather, I find Cole attacking the punching bag with controlled fury.

Streams of sweat run down his chest, his muscles coiled with tension. Even tormented, he's breathtaking.

His face is grim as he fights the demons of his mother's betrayal. The capable man he is, he's trying to handle this alone. But not this time. With this beast, he has me by his side. I approach carefully, making sure he sees me.

"Go to bed, Alisha."

I plant my hands on my hips. "No."

He huffs, landing another combination of punches. "Don't go stubborn on me, Alex."

"I won't if you stop shutting me out."

He grabs his water bottle, taking long pulls while swiping a towel across his chest. Through the mirror, his eyes find mine. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze steadily.

"Talk to me, Cole."

He straightens, something raw breaking through his control.

"Fine, you want the truth? I'm fucked up, Alex.

I'm a raging sea of anger, and I can't get it to stop.

" The towel hits the floor as he turns back to the bag, his strikes more violent.

"My insides are burning like hot magma, and it's consuming me.

" A powerful kick makes the bag swing wildly.

"I'm staying away from you because I don't want to hurt you by saying things I don't mean. "

He stops, pushing fingers through his sweat-dampened hair as he faces the mirror again. The pain radiating from him pulls me forward until I'm standing behind him.

"Cole."

I move to face him, placing my hand over his racing heart. His sharp intake of breath when I stroke his clenched jaw makes my own chest tight. He leans into my touch, eyes closing.

"I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth crashes onto mine, years of pain and need pouring into the kiss.

Like fire meeting gasoline, passion explodes between us - not just lust, but something deeper, more primal.

A need to connect, to heal, to forget. I press closer, matching his intensity, letting him channel his anguish into our embrace.

My legs wrap around his waist as he lifts me, the position as natural as breathing.

The cold mirror against my back contrasts sharply with the burning heat of his body.

His lips trace a path of fire down my neck, each kiss a silent promise.

Our ragged breaths create a desperate symphony in the quiet gym.

Every touch of his hands sends electricity through me, but it's the look in his eyes that makes my heart race - that mix of hunger and vulnerability that only I get to see. Each caress is a claim, a promise, a healing touch driving away the shadows of betrayal.

His hands steady me as I plant my feet back on the floor, my fingers tracing the sweat-slicked planes of his chest.

"Turn and put your hands on the mirror."

Like a dance we've perfected, I turn at his gruff command, pressing my hands against the mirror. Our eyes meet in the reflection - his burning with desire, mine promising forever.

With a growl of possession, Cole tugs my pants down, hands worshipping every inch of newly exposed skin.

Reverent, yet intensely possessive. When he enters me from behind, it's not just about physical pleasure - it's about release, for both of us.

Each thrust is a confession, driving away the ghosts of painful memories.

"Fuck, I need you, Alex," he rasps, voice raw with emotion. He takes me with that perfect mix of tenderness and passion that's uniquely Cole. Each stroke of his hips tells a story - of pain, of healing, of love. His fingers at my throat don't constrain; they connect. Anchor.

"Watch us," he commands softly, and our eyes meet again in the mirror. The intensity of our connection steals my breath. This isn't just sex - it's communion, confession, healing.

"Don't break my heart and never leave me," he pleads, the weight of fifteen years of betrayal heavy in his words.

"As long as you're good to me, I'll be right by your side," I vow, pouring all my love, all my commitment into those words.

His thrusts become more urgent, more insistent, and I feel myself hurtling toward that delicious precipice.

This man has ruined me for anyone else - not just because of the mind-blowing physical pleasure, but because of moments like this.

When he's inside me, around me, part of me, I know with absolute certainty that he's the other half of my soul. My partner. My forever.

With a shuddering cry of his name, I let go, feeling him follow, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips as he finds his own release. Afterward, he lifts me into his arms and carries me home, my head tucked against his neck. Once in his bedroom he walks to the bed.

"You're the reason I'm not falling apart, Alex," he whispers into my hair. "Your support means everything."

I tighten my arms around him, voice thick with emotion. "You're the strongest man I've ever met. I'm proud of how you stood up to your mother, and I'll support you no matter what."

After a few tender kisses, I smile against his lips. "I have a song I want to share with you. Is that okay?" I ask.

He sets me down long enough to retrieve his phone, that sexy half-smile I love appearing. I find Andy Grammer's "The Best of You" on YouTube.

"This is my message to you," I say, holding out the device.

He pulls me onto his lap as he sits on the bed and listens. His arms tighten around me as the lyrics wash over us. When it ends, he tucks the phone away and lifts me again.

"You're incredible."

I pepper his face with soft kisses, whispering near his ear, "You're my man, Cole Walker. I love you."

He chuckles when I yawn immediately after. "It's adorable how you get sleepy after sex."

"I can't help it. Your dick has worn me out."

His laugh reverberates through my chest, filling me with joy. I nuzzle into his neck as he lies down, and before I know I’m drifting off in the safest place I know - his arms.

* * *

"Good morning."

My eyelids flutter open to Cole's deep voice and the sweet aroma of coffee. "Hey," I manage, pushing myself up against the headboard.

"I have to go into the office for a meeting. Can you drive Samantha to school?"

I lift my cast-free arm. "Sure, no problem."

He presses a kiss to my lips and hands me my coffee. "See you later, gorgeous."

As he turns, I smack his behind. "You bet your exquisite ass on that."

With a wink, he strolls out. Moments later, the front door closes.

I settle back, cradling my espresso, my mind drifting to the past ten days since the dinner at his mom's.

Cole has been clear he doesn't want to discuss the situation, channeling everything into work and early morning gym sessions.

I've joined him some mornings as he teaches me boxing and self-defense, but this non-morning person has her limits.

Knock, knock.

"Alisha?"

"Hey, Sam, come in."

The teenager enters and perches on the edge of the bed, a book beside her as she fiddles with the end of her ponytail. Something's weighing on her.

"What's up, Sam?"

She sighs. "I tried to speak to Dad this morning, but he said he isn't ready to talk about his mom."

I set my coffee aside, noting the worry in her expression. "Want to talk to me instead, honey?"

She studies the bedsheets, chewing her bottom lip before nodding. "I know what Carmen did is terrible, but do you think he'll stay with his decision of cutting her out of our lives?"