As if on cue, Aubry barges through my bedroom door. “Russell is here,” he pants, covering his face with his left arm.
I crinkle my eyebrows. “Did you open the door with the key, or did Cole leave it unlocked again?”
Aubry takes a deep breath. “He left it unlocked. Did you hear what I said?” he asks in an annoyed tone.
“Take your arm down,” I say with a laugh. “We’re dressed...well, I am anyway. I’m not sure how Cole looks under these sheets.”
“Well, like I said, Russell is here. I haven’t let him in yet but I don’t think he’s going to be happy that there’s a guy in your bed. Actually, I know he’ll be pissed that Cole is in your bed,” Aubry specifies, pointing at Cole’s sleeping form.
I groan. He’s right. My boyfriend will be upset. Russell already has his speculations about Cole, and I don’t want to add fuel to the fire. I’ve never let Russell stay the night, and if he finds Cole in my bed, it’ll be the breaking point of our relationship. The last time Cole was here, he accidentally mentioned that I had the most comfortable bed in the apartment. Russell asked Cole how he would know that, and Cole answered that he slept in it all the time. That turned into a huge fight between Russell and me. I almost broke up with him over it because the last thing I need is somebody telling me what to do—but I need Russell in my life right now.
I sit on my knees and start shoving Cole’s body with both hands. “Cole, you have to get up. Cole, wake up.”
Cole’s lips form a slow smile, showing off the dimple on his right cheek. “Hmm...Blake...”
I look back at Aubry with pleading eyes, but he just stands there laughing and shaking his head. Idiot.
I glare at him. “Aubry, can you go open the door for Russell and entertain him?” I hiss.
He shrugs. “Whatever. Don’t be pissed at me when the British invasion catches you off guard,” he mutters walking back to the living room. I shake my head at his lame words as I continue to shake Cole roughly.
“Cole, wake up!” I say loudly.
His green eyes pop open, and he sits up startled. “What?” he asks confused. “I was just having the best dream.”
I roll my eyes. “Russell is here. You have to get up and go to the guest room...please,” I beg. He narrows his eyes at me for a couple of seconds before muttering a curse and uncovering himself roughly as he stands. He stretches his arms above his head, giving me full view of all of his toned back muscles and that gorgeous firm ass of his that’s covered by tight black boxer briefs. I close my eyes and squeeze my fists together to resist the urge to squeeze it. Damn, it sucks to have to depend on people.
Russell’s stepfather is the Morris in Lewis, Smith, and Morris Law Firm—one of Chicago’s biggest firms. I learned this two years ago, when we first met in law school. I started getting closer to him because of it. We were friends for a while before we became a couple earlier this year. The fact that he’s smart, charming, good looking, and has a sexy-as-hell British accent makes being with him painless. I do like him, though. He’s a fun guy, he’s nice, and he doesn’t annoy me. As long as he doesn’t try to push me to talk about my past, we should be fine for a while. The only people I trust can be counted on one hand. Unfortunately for Russell, my hand only has five fingers, and they’re all taken by a trustworthy person, so he won’t be making the cut.
Cole looks back at me with a smirk on his face, and I know I’ve been caught ogling. I shrug, and he chuckles.
“We can make him leave, you know?” he says huskily with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. My treacherous heart speeds up, and the butterflies in my stomach awaken.
“No, Cole. We can’t,” I sigh, trying to keep my composure. “Just go over there. I’ll see you later,” I say as I wave him off in the direction of the bathroom. “Thank you for last night.”
I don’t even bother to ask him what he’s doing here. I already know the answer to that. Today is my twenty-fifth birthday. It’s also a day that I do not, under any circumstance celebrate. I don’t accept presents. I don’t accept phone calls. Nothing. My birthday is a reminder of the day everything was taken from me.
It’s a reminder of death.
“Sure thing, baby. I’ll always be here for you,” he says with sad eyes and a grave seriousness in his tone. “Always.”
He walks through the Jack-and-Jill bathroom and to the guest room on the other side before I can say a word. Russell knocks lightly before pushing the door open as I’m getting out of bed. I can feel the color drain from my face. They missed each other by a hair. What is it with these guys barging in my room today?
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask with a smile, trying to mask my discomfort.
“It’s your...well, I found out today is your day—the one you don’t like celebrating.”
Hearing his flustered explanation melts away my apprehension for him being here. Bless his soul; he doesn’t want to say the b-word. I think I might actually enjoy him saying the damn word. Everything sounds so nice coming out of his mouth. I blame it on the accent.
“Who told you?” I ask in a small voice.
“Aimee did. I hope you don’t get angry with her,” he replies in a sheepish tone as he shuffles his feet.
I smile at the sight of him as I try to think of ways that I’m going to kick Aimee’s ass. Aimee is one of my good friends in law school. In the beginning, I wanted to get close to her because of her godfather. He’s Mark Lewis from Lewis, Smith, and Morris. He also happens to be my attorney. I can’t shake the feeling that somehow he’s connected to my past, but I’ve never met him. The more I got to know Aimee, the more I liked her, so I eased up on my Inspector Gadget bit and just became friends with her.
I keep telling her that I want to go to her parents’ house, using the excuse that I want to see where the mayor lives. Her father is the mayor of Chicago—something that she hates for people to know. She says she hates going home because she says it’s too depressing. None of those things matter to me; I really want to go to see if I can find any dirt on Mark Lewis.
“It’s fine—as long as you didn’t get me anything. It’s complicated,” I say, not wanting to explain myself.
“It’s okay. I didn’t bring you a present or a cake or anything. I would like to take you to dinner, but not to celebrate today—just to celebrate us. Is that okay?”
I close my eyes. “Russell, that’s still a celebration,” I mumble under my breath.
“You have to eat, Blake. It’s just a meal.”
“I usually don’t eat today,” I reply quietly as I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I do not want to have this conversation right now—or ever. “Can you wait for me in the living room? I’m going to take a quick shower.”
He comes over to me and wraps me in his arms. “Sure, but think about dinner, please,” he pleads before giving me a quick kiss and walking out of my room.
I let out a deep breath once he closes the door behind him. I skip to the door and lock it. I never leave my bedroom door unlocked when I shower. I’m startled when I turn back around and see Cole standing in the doorway between the bathroom and my bedroom.