Page 71 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

My eyes balloon again. “What?” I breathe.

I feel him nod against my crown. “Some shit happened. It could just be the heat of the moment, but… I think it’s something more.”

He hugs me tighter still. My hands cup his arm as he flexes his fingers and rests them at the base of my throat. His other arm curls, and now I’m caged to him.

“Goodnight, Snow.”

“‘Night,” I whisper, falling back asleep.

My eyes burst open, and not because of the sun filtering in through the linen curtains.

No, it’s because of the man curled around my back. His hands holding me tight.

And his big ass hard ass dick poking my ass.

God, it’s been so long.

So long since I’ve had sex, and so long since I’ve had sex with him.

Richard Alvarez. Now that I’m… thirty, and have been around the proverbial block, I can honestly say that I had no business having sex so young. The things we were doing… it’s no wonder I ended up pregnant.

I’m almost afraid of how much he's grown and changed. And judging by the log on my booty cheek, Rico sure has grown.

So, I don’t even try to be subtle in yanking myself out of his hold. When I turn around, he’s already looking at me, face balled up, distorted from his pink scar.

I roll my eyes in full view, before going to the dresser. “Hot ass morning breath on my neck.”

“Fuck you, Snow.”

I wish. But I don’t say that. I just grab some clean clothes and slam the bathroom door shut.

My teeth are stapling my lips so I don’t spout the most foul vitriol I can think of at this asshole three feet from me.

Today, I was all set to spend the day with Miele. We had a date with a six-movie series and all the ice cream we could eat. I breezed through my morning workout, even if Rico and I didn’t speak, because of this.

Until he rained on my parade. No movie marathon for me today. I’m stuck with him.

He took mercy on me, letting me bring my laptop into his office, saying I could watch movies in here. Only, he’s been in meetings all day, and after the third look he shot my way, I turned it off.

I can’t make any sounds. I can barely breathe. But I also can’t leave.

This fool locked us inside his office.

So I’m just sitting here, with his e-reader, eyes glazing over at the historical fiction he was already reading before he chucked it at me.

If I didn't know any better, I’d say he’s being… clingy.

We haven’t spent more than ten minutes away from each other today. And that was only when I showered this morning. By the time I came out, he was up and ready. When I showered again after my workout, he actually stayed inside the bathroom, typing away on his phone.

What the fuck happened in Colombia–besides catching YT and Reem in a compromising position–that has Rico wanting me in his orbit at all times?

Months of avoidance, to this. I’m getting whiplash.

Sighing, I switch from the e-reader to the laptop, and begin typing fragments of lyrics floating around in the room with us.

It’s a love/hate relationship, being around someone who makes you feel such jarring feelings. Rico’s a perfect muse, even after all these years. My comp book is filled with poems and lyrics and half-realized songs about love and loss and bossing up on a nigga who played you.

After months of living in this paradise prison, I’m finally used to my mind being so clear. My hair is long enough to be slicked back or styled in cute fingerwaves. I see the beginning of muscles being built on my frame. And I barely cry myself to sleep anymore.