Bad Things (Love is Messy Duet Book 1) by Emily Goodwin

Author:Emily Goodwin [Goodwin, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-09T18:30:00+00:00

It’s dark when we leave the hotel. Fog hangs over the city, wispy tendrils spiraling down in front of me as I walk along the sidewalk, blanketing me in sticky humidity. We’ve just arrived at Cole’s house, and he’s retrieving my suitcase from the trunk of his car.

I get out of the car, grit and loose cement crunching under my feet as I step onto the sidewalk. There aren’t as many people walking about in the nasty weather. I wrap my arm around myself as the damp air sets in and gives me a chill.

“Ana,” someone calls from down the street, and it’s like someone slides an ice cube down my spine. I tense, not moving. Forgetting to breathe. Shaking. Scared.

Weak.

Defenseless.

“No,” I say to the darkness. “I’m not defenseless.” He wanted me to think I was. Spent years making me believe it was so.

“I’ve been looking for you,” the man calls, voice drowned out by a passing car. My heart speeds up, thumping painfully in my chest. It’s not him. It can’t be. There is no way he found me.

My palms sweat.

Ears ring.

I want to scream and run away.

“Ana?” Cole asks, hand landing on my shoulder, making me jump. “Is everything all right?”

I whirl around and turn my face up to him, taking solace in his deep, dark eyes. “Yeah,” I force out, pushing back the tears that are threatening to form. A group of people walks down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. That’s whom I heard. No one was talking to me. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” He says each word slowly, a little afraid of offending me, but with his concern overriding. Cole edges closer. I can smell his cologne, feel the heat of his skin. The memory of his naked body on top of mine—hot, sweaty, commanding—sears into my brain and brings me comfort. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

My lashes come together and everything I’ve been desperately holding onto falls apart at my feet, turning into smoke and dissipating into the fog.

“No.”

Cole sets my suitcase down and wraps me in his arms. I let out a breath, head resting on his chest. Wrapped in Cole’s strong arms, the fear starts to leave me. Right here in his tight embrace is all I need.

I feel safe.

“I’m fine, really,” I insist.

“Friday night,” he starts, “when we ran into each other, you seemed pretty damn freaked out. Kinda like this.”

I swallow hard and shake my head. “I have an over-active imagination.” Technically, that’s true. Yet it still feels like a lie. But I don’t want to open up, to rip my chest open and lay my heart out on the table. It’s battered and bruised and seeping crimson blood. It’s far from pretty. Even farther from desirable. “It makes me get scared easily sometimes.”

Cole doesn’t look convinced. Instead of pushing the issue, he brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me. Softly. Tenderly. Making me want him all over again, even though I’m a little sore from the epic fuck we had against the hotel room door.

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