“She is,” he agreed. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time that we might get together with her. I wasn’t sure the timing would work out. But Bree’s incredibly important to me. And since you are, too, I really wanted you to meet her.”
“I’m glad,” I said, though the words sounded thick with emotion.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know how much you mean to me, Kat. It’s hardly a secret that you fill me up.” He held his hand out for me, and I took it, then came willingly when he drew me close. “You’re my future,” he said, “and Bree’s my past. It made sense for you to meet.”
“You’re going to make me cry.”
He brushed his thumb under my eye, wiping away an errant tear that had escaped as if to prove my point.
“Walk with me,” he said, taking my hand as we walked down the sidewalk. “I wanted you to meet her first, but there’s more to the story I told you yesterday. It’s not something I talk about, but Bree’s right. You need to know. No,” he corrected. “I want you to know.”
“All right,” I said, twining my fingers with his as we started to walk down the pristine Beverly Hills street.
“You know about my rages, the impulse-control issues. You know about the crack and my bitch of a mother and how much it all fucked me up for sex.”
“I know what you’ve told me,” I said. “And I still don’t think you’re fucked up. I think you’re you. You’re the man I fell in love with, Cole. And that man is solid.”
There I went, telling him I loved him again. And he still hadn’t said the words back to me. But it didn’t matter. He needed to know how I felt. More than that, I needed him to know. I wanted him to have my love to hold tight around him like a blanket when he told me these horrors. So that he could remember that no matter how bad it had been or might be, I would always be there.
And so what if he hadn’t said the words back to me? Yes, I wanted to hear them out loud, but the truth was that he said them to me every day. Not in words, but in actions. In the way he talked to me. The way he took care of me. The way he treated me.
I thought of the wicked way that he’d fucked me last night. The myriad of ways in which he’d taken his pleasure. The things he’d done to bring me both pain and pleasure. And more than that, I thought of the reason why.
Because he wanted to take me higher. Because he wanted to mark me as his.
Cole August was in love with me whether he admitted it or not. And that simple reality not only made me happy, it made me proud.
“You didn’t know me as a child,” Cole continued. “I was wild. Anything would set me off. It was Bree who taught me control. It was Bree who kept me grounded. Not so much because she did anything—hell, for most of that time, she was just a baby. But it was the fact of her. The fact that there was this little person in my life, and I was responsible for her. Because by that time, my grandmother was broken. She was there—but she’d checked out. I was father and brother and best friend all rolled into one for Bree. And for the longest time, she was my world.”
“She’s great,” I said. “I think she’s a walking testimonial to your exceptional parenting skills.”
“Or to her own exceptional personality.”
“That, too,” I agreed. “But there’s more to the story than your mutual admiration.”
He paused under an awning. “Yeah. There is.”
I waited, giving him time. Then he reached out and touched my shoulder. Just a simple brush of a finger over the thin material of my shirt. But I knew that he was taking stock. Making sure that I was real and this moment wasn’t going to evaporate. “I want to tell you everything,” he finally said. “Kat, you have to know—there’s no one else I’ve told all of this to. No one else knows everything that happened with Anita or everything I’m about to tell you. Not even Bree. Not even Tyler and Evan.”