Breaking Skin (29 page)

“You can say that again.”

“How do you feel about what the doctor said?”

I’m about to say “fine” the way I always do, but I stop myself because I know he won’t accept that answer. I like that he won’t accept it.

“I’m scared but also relieved.”

“It was good news, Nikki. Three months isn’t that long.”

“In the career of a dancer, it’s practically forever.”

He flashes me a smile. “Are dance years like dog years?”

“That’s probably a good comparison.”

The doctor told me I have a torn meniscus. It probably started as a small tear from landing on my knee the wrong way, and because I never sought treatment, it’s now a much larger tear that needs surgery to heal. Apparently, I’m in good company. According to the doctor, Mikhail Baryshnikov had the same exact surgery and made a full recovery. He thinks I could be dancing on it again within three to four months.

That does seem like good news, but it also means I’ll miss our next show, the one I could have my first solo in if I were healthy. Looking on the bright side, this injury will not end my dance career and that’s a tremendous relief, assuming I still have a career after being gone all that time for the surgery and rehabilitation. The company can’t terminate my contract for a dance-related injury, but they don’t have to hold my spot. They don’t have to use me if they’ve done just fine without me for months.

It’s a lot to absorb on top of all the other things I’m dealing with.

I unlock the door to my apartment and walk inside. The air is warm and stagnant from being unoccupied.

“I’ll just be a minute. I only need a few things.”

“Take your time,” he says, glancing around curiously. “I told Lily we wouldn’t be back until tonight.”

I head for my bedroom and wonder how my place must look through Cole’s eyes. His house belongs in a magazine while my apartment is tiny and shabby with furniture I picked up at secondhand stores. Even though Cole said we have time, I find myself rushing, nerves from the day making me jumpy despite my exhaustion. Grabbing a bag from the bottom of my closet, I shove some extra pairs of jeans inside, along with more socks and underwear.

When I hear Cole walk toward the bedroom and linger in the open doorway, I turn and note the way the top of his head nearly touches the top of the door frame.

“I remember this smell,” he says and his eyes close briefly. “I was in a store once and smelled something like it. The moment I caught a whiff, I thought of you and that night. When I asked the salesgirl what it was, she said it was honeysuckle.”

He remembers my scent, and that does funny things to my stomach. My gaze goes to the bottle of lotion I keep on my nightstand.

“It is honeysuckle.” For years, I’ve put it on every night before bed. The scent does seem to linger in the room.

“I like your apartment. How long have you lived here?”

I try not to scoff as I pull the zipper closed on my bag and look around for what else I may need. “About four months, and you’re being polite. It’s a dump.”

“It’s not a dump.” Cole walks into the room. “You think I’m still judging you. I’m not, Nikki. I’ve already made up my mind. I’m crazy about you.”

My gaze flies to his and my pulse quickens at the glint in his eye. When he looks at me that way, it feels like the sun kissing my skin after a long, cold night.

Slowly, I take the steps that place me in front of him and touch his cheek, so thankful he was with me for this roller coaster of a day, and grateful we found each other again.

He takes my hand in his and presses it to his lips. Then he brings my arm around the back of his neck and gently pulls my body against him.

“For the first time, it’s just you and me. No kids. No possibility of interruptions.”

My heart stutters at the implication. “Feels like we should take advantage.” I grin and he presses a kiss to my lips as his arms surround me.

Cole is an unyielding wall of muscle, and as much as I admire his physical strength and his strength of character, his vulnerability is attractive too. It tugs at my heart and makes me want to protect him from anyone or anything that could hurt him. It humanizes him and it inspires me to show him how much I want him, how much I’ve always wanted him, even when I never thought I’d see him again.

I slide my tongue along his and push flush against his body. His arms tighten, and I can feel him let go as we both give in to the passion that’s been simmering between us since the first day I saw him again. His kiss deepens and soon I’m no longer standing on the floor. I’m in his arms and then I’m lying across the bed.

Cole looks down at me with lust clouding his eyes. “I want you, Nikki.”

I lick my lips. “I want you too.”

He smiles. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about being with you like this again.”

“Probably as long as I’ve thought about you.”

Cole slowly shakes his head. “Longer.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly, and I know there’s something I have to show him later. But now I wind my arms around his neck and open my mouth to his, letting my tongue slide over his teeth before plunging deeper. His hand fists in my hair and tugs lightly, just the way I like it, making me moan. I pull him closer, desperate for more of him.

Cole whispers my name and rolls us over on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs until he takes control and shifts on top of me. I find the hem of his shirt and pull upward. He breaks away long enough to yank it over his head.

I take in his smooth, muscled chest as he moves over me. It looks just like I remember and just like the flashes of him I see in my dreams.

When I skim my hands over his skin, Cole shivers. He actually shivers from my touch, and I love that I can do that to him because he already knows how responsive I am when he touches me.

Cole’s rough hand strokes over the bare skin of my stomach and I arch up against it, raising my arms so he can pull my shirt over my head. I watch his face as he reaches around to undo the clasp of my bra. Once I’m bared to him, he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the same way he looked at me that night. When I see the admiration in his eyes, I feel beautiful and powerful, two things as foreign to me as romantic love.

His warm lips touch the places his eyes caressed first, sucking and gently biting until I writhe beneath him and shamelessly tilt my hips up to seek more friction.

He responds with an approving sound, and all thoughts of going slow disappear as we reach for our remaining clothing, tugging and pushing at belts and jeans that are in the way. I watch him retrieve a condom from his wallet and have a fleeting thought, a question as to why it’s there. For us? For this possibility or for any possibility?

The moment his warm skin rubs against mine, my questions are forgotten. My insecurities disappear and I close my eyes, sighing at the sensation. I hoped for this but I never really thought it would happen. Cole doesn’t know it, but I’ve carried the note he left taped to my bathroom mirror with me for two years, believing it was all I’d ever have of him and the night we spent together.

But now I have so much more than a piece of paper with words that nearly brought me to tears when I first read them. A note that created a longing so deep and wide that I’ve been falling into ever since, a longing for something I wanted desperately but believed with all my heart I could never have.

I was wrong.

Cole sinks inside me and when our bodies fuse together, the emotion burning in his eyes makes my heart quake. A groan erupts from his throat when he pulls out and then presses in deeper. Each time he moves, he watches me, reading my expression and reacting to it. When he rotates his hips, causing me to moan softly, he does it again, just the same way. He takes me to the edge but he doesn’t let me go. He brings me back and then dangles me over the precipice again until my breath is nothing more than a series of desperate pants.

It isn’t until I whisper “please” that he drives harder. Soon sweet tension coils at my core. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin, squeezing my eyes closed as the exquisite pressure builds. With each stroke, Cole carves out a place for himself deep in my heart, and I know it’s a place that will always belong to him.

When I release a high-pitched scream that sounds like it came from someone else, someone more wanton and free than I’ve ever been, it’s not only my body Cole fills, it’s the emptiness that swallowed me the morning I woke up and believed I’d never see him again.

C
ole drops down beside me and presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. With a lazy smile, I toss my arm over my head and snuggle beneath the blanket.

“My memory didn’t do this justice,” he says.

My smile widens as I take in his tousled hair and the soft affection in his eyes. I can safely say I’ve never felt like this before. Our first time together, I’d had too much to drink to be fully present, but this time, every second was bursting with vibrant color. I feel completely alive and connected to this man. I feel so good, I may do something daring, like tell him.

“Remember you said you wanted there to be something between us?”

A grin curls his lips. “I remember.”

“This is more than something, Cole. It’s something special.”

His smile slowly fades, causing my heart to knock against my ribs. But before I can worry what he’s thinking, his hand cups my cheek and he places a soft kiss on my lips.

“I know it is. I knew it first.”

I laugh softly, relief flowing through me along with the thrilling buzz of happiness.

“There’s something I have to show you.” I reach for his button-down shirt at the end of the bed and slip my arms into the long sleeves that hang down far past my hands. “Be right back.”

In the living room, I locate my purse by the door where I left it. Then I reach inside for my wallet, pull out a worn piece of paper, and carry it back into the bedroom with me.

Cole is sitting up with his back propped against a pillow. I hold the worn piece of paper out to him and with a curious look, he takes it from my hand.

As he studies it, I climb back onto the bed and sit on my knees, facing him. “I’ve kept that in my wallet all this time. Do you remember writing it?”

His shocked gaze shifts from the note back to me as he nods.

“You think you’ve thought about us longer, but you need to understand we might be tied on that score.”

Cole grins and shakes his head. Then he takes me by surprise when he wraps his arm around me and pulls me down on top of him.

“You are beautiful, Nikki. But I shouldn’t have put it in a note. I should have stayed and told you.”

I wish he’d stayed and told me too, but that was a difficult night for both of us. My mother had a stroke and his marriage was ending. I understand the timing wasn’t right.

Cole glances at the clock on the nightstand. “We should probably get moving soon.”

I look at the clock too, but then my gaze moves past it to the framed photograph that sits on my dresser across the room. It’s a picture of Renee with a much younger Langley. As I look at it, my heart doesn’t feel quite as light anymore. It occurs to me that I haven’t texted Renee or left her a voice-mail message in days, not since Cole touched me in her kitchen the other night. I let myself get distracted, and guilt sneaks up on me.

Reluctantly, lazily, we get out of bed and sort through the clothes we carelessly tossed to the floor. Cole notices the way I keep glancing at the photograph.

“Renee doesn’t have any family pictures around her house,” he says. “If she had, I might have seen you in one and realized she was your sister.”

I hadn’t thought about that, but he has a point. Renee has no photographs at all. “She wouldn’t put out any pictures of me, but you’d think she’d have some of Langley.”

“Nikki.” Cole says my name in a serious tone. “You don’t have to tell me, but I can’t pretend I don’t want to know why your relationship with Renee is so strained.”

Automatically, I shut down. “It’s getting late.”

“If you want to talk, it’s not too late for that.”

I sigh and think about how much he’s shared with me and how little I’ve shared with him. If what’s happening between us truly is something special, I have to open up. I felt so much closer to Cole when he talked to me, but my story is different. Instead of bringing us closer, it may tear us apart. It may make him decide he wants nothing to do with me and my family.