Home > Make Me Yours (Unravel Me #2)(16)

Make Me Yours (Unravel Me #2)(16)
Author: Kendall Ryan

Cohen flipped through the menu screen and chose another course.

“I want a do-over!” I was just starting to get the hang of it.

“We’ll do this track. It’s easier.”

I shook my head. “Oh, you don’t need to go easy on me, sugar. I’ve got this.” My confidence level sooo did not match my skill level, but I liked seeing him laugh.

“Well I didn’t mean easier, I just meant more beginner-friendly.”

The flag dropped and the sound of revving engines flooded his bedroom. “You’re going down.” I bounced on my knees excitedly, causing the bed to shake.

I pressed the accelerator button and watched my car zoom ahead. I peeked over at Cohen. His face was a mask of concentration and his teeth bit gently into his soft bottom lip. Damn, that was distracting.

I focused on the video game once again, and watched as my car sped around the track. “Cohen, look at me! I’m really doing it.”

He chuckled. “That’s my car, babe. Yours is that one.” He pointed to the lower corner of the screen where another car was repeatedly ramming itself into a wall.

Crap! My cheeks flamed pink and I threw the controller down onto the bed. “This game sucks.”

Cohen smiled as his car crossed the finish line, then he got off the bed to switch off the game console.

I used his absence to roll over to the warm space he’d occupied and curled up with his pillow. “I think I’m getting addicted to your bed.”

He smiled and lay down beside me. “I think my bed is getting addicted to having you in it.”

My heart kicked into high gear. Cohen was lying just inches from me, his gaze locked on mine. I waited breathlessly for him to lean in and kiss me.

As though he’d heard my prayer, he bit his lip again and moved closer.

The shrill sound of his pager pierced the silent room and he instantly pulled back. He grabbed for the device and hit a button, silencing it.

“What is it?”

“Car fire.” He frowned. “On Fifty-first and Macon.”

“Do you have to go?”

He nodded and leaned down, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Be here when I get home?”

I nodded, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke.

He was up and out the door before what had just happened even fully registered.

I didn’t wait around for a man. Ever. But this was different, I tried to convince myself. Cohen was my friend. Yeah right, in what universe?

I grabbed my phone and headed off to pick up Ashlyn for our shopping trip.

***

I’d just gotten back from my early-morning run when Ashlyn called to say they’d be arriving shortly to pick us up for the weekend away. I’d dashed upstairs to let Cohen know. I found him still in bed where I’d left him an hour ago, cuddling with Bob. As was becoming our usual habit, I’d spent the night with him. The one marked difference was the worry I felt while waiting for him to get home safely from the car-fire call he attended to, and the relief I felt when he finally made it home, sweaty and exhausted hours later. I giggled when I saw them. “This is what you do when I’m gone?” I teased.

“Bob, what the—?” He shoved the dog away from him as though he was appalled and tugged me down onto the bed. He wrapped his arms and legs around me, pulling me in tight against him. “That’s better.”

“Cohen, gross. I’m all sweaty from my run.” The jogs I took each morning as an attempt at working off the excess sexual tension in my life were quickly negated by Cohen’s attention.

He rubbed his nose along my jaw. “You smell just fine to me.”

My heart pounded against my chest. This sports bra and tiny pair of shorts didn’t provide nearly the barrier needed against his bare chest and soft, warm skin. I needed a cold shower. That, and probably even an appointment with my B.O.B.

His scent was so intoxicating, his bare chest so delicious, I almost forgot my rule about not starting into anything that would remotely resemble a relationship. Almost. If only I could get Cohen on board with the notion of a no-strings hookup.

But Cohen wasn’t a hit-it-and-ditch-it kind of guy. Not to mention I had a feeling occasional sweaty sex with him would quickly become an addiction hazardous to my stance on singledom.

“Come on.” I shoved against him. “Ashlyn and Aiden will be here soon. I don’t want them to catch us…doing whatever this is we’re doing.”

He sat up and pulled me onto his lap, his face turning serious. “What are we doing?”

I looked down, fumbling with the twisted sheet. He was easy to be around, sweet to me, kind, good-hearted—all of the things, logically, I knew I should want. But something nagged deep inside me. I couldn’t go there. Not with Cohen, not with anyone.

“Eliza?” He tilted my chin up with his finger.

I swallowed hard. “We’re friends, right?”

He laughed, low, under his breath. “If we’re friends, then I’m the friggin’ Pope.” He ran a fingertip across the swell of my br**sts, pushed together by the spandex sports bra. “If we’re friends, then why do I feel so tempted by you?”

My breath caught in my chest. Just the lightest of touches from him, and my entire body was humming and ready. I swatted at him playfully. “Come on, we’ve got to get ready. And I need a cold shower.” I cringed. I hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. Oh, well.

Cohen chuckled again before lifting me off him and rising to begin his weekend packing.

   
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