The Ex Trials (Falling for Autumn #3) Read online

  But Autumn was down to earth and nothing would change that quality. She had kept her cool when fans approached Blake on the boat and during the island stops. She was always polite, but never seduced by Blake’s status. I appreciated that quality about her. My parents were ruled by money in their own ways and I never wanted to live that way. Managing and then eventually owning a restaurant wouldn’t likely sound ambitious to most people, but my career choices were never about how much money I’d end up with in my bank account at retirement.

  “Autumn, if you and the girls don’t go on the trip, I will seriously feel more miserable than I already do. Please go and let me vomit in peace,” I said in a shaky voice.

  Autumn’s nose twitched. “Are you sure? Maybe if at least one of us stays behind…”

  “No, please. You’ve been looking forward to Saint Lucia since you started planning the cruise. I just want to sleep and hope that I’ll feel better so we can hang out later on tonight.”

  Autumn looked to Delia and Lexi for assistance. I groaned at their torn expressions. “I’m just sick, not dying for chrissakes,” I said with mock grumpiness. I began to push the three of them in the direction of the door. “Go and have fun. You are not staying here with nothing to do but watch crappy TV. Take a lot of pictures. Don’t talk to strangers. And don’t agree to deliver any packages to the States.”

  I gave Lexi a pointed look. Purposely, we’d been keeping Autumn busy in hopes that she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Thomas on TV. Luckily, the cruise line only had a handful of channels and most of them showed movies around the clock. The few times the TV set had gone on, there had been nary a sight of Thomas. According to Finn, the TV interview would be live tonight, so keeping Autumn and Delia preoccupied was at threat level red.

  “Okay, we’ll go then,” Lexi said. Autumn appeared ready to continue arguing, but Lexi took her by the arm. “Let’s leave Casey alone to rest. Plus, she might be highly contagious. We should actually pick up a few surgical masks while we’re out and about.”

  “Thanks Lex,” I said sarcastically. I moped over to the bed and collapsed on it, and curled my legs into my chest. “Stop back when you’re done with the tour and I’ll try not to retch at dinner.”

  My stomach revolted at the suggestion, but I was channeling mind over matter. Barbados was the day I wanted to lie low. Besides a day at sea after Barbados, there was very little time left on our trip. I didn’t want to waste too much time feeling like shit rolled over twice.

  Reluctantly, the girls left while I fell onto my side in bed. I felt grimy in my old white tank top and gray Capri sweats, but I lacked the motivation to get changed. I only wanted to stay rolled into a little ball and mimic a potato bug. That was how I’d been feeling lately anyway. I’d needed to collapse into myself to hide from the pain. Maybe my hard shell would keep me from harm.

  What was wrong with me? Instead of a vacation, I wished for a vacation from myself. I was fun before. I could laugh and party and be around men without feeling like an awkward weirdo. The fact that the cruise was part of Autumn’s bachelorette celebration was just an excuse for planning activities separate from the men. The truth was I didn’t feel that same comfort I used to around guys. I was the life of the party in college. I could flirt and tease. Although I loved my girlfriends, I appreciated the differences in the sexes. Men were straightforward and didn’t play the same games most women tended to. Of course, men were the reason women played those games, but I still thought I had a handle on the rules.

  And although the breakup with Cole left a huge gaping hole in my heart, I had a feeling it was more than that. I felt broken. Like even if Cole gave me another shot and the splintered pieces of Casey came back together, they would only form a monstrous version of my former self. Would he even want the person I had become?

  Being around Cole was screwing up my brain. It was making me scared that I could never recapture what the two of us had. Despite the stirrings of sexual attraction that had sprung to life when I saw Cole again, my lust had been otherwise dead for months. Unsuccessfully, I had tried to rummage around myself to locate the old Casey—the Casey who felt sexy and confident and seized her orgasm with fervor.

  The new me felt tired and used up. Like I was a discarded rag doll whom no one would want. What if Cole did all of a sudden want me back? I had pictured the storybook elements: the reuniting kiss, the exchanging of heartfelt sentiments, the new future we built. But one element had been blatantly missing: the sex. I remembered his touch. I remembered the fire. But why couldn’t I picture having him take me to bed and igniting my blood once again? Cole was an incredible lover, always in tune with what I was in the mood for: tender, slow lovemaking or harder, more daring sex. Sometimes foreplay would last for hours while other times, he’d simply lift up my skirt and take me in an instant from behind. Each day we were together, Cole had satisfied me in every way possible. But why hadn’t I been able to give him what he needed in return?

  ***

  I drifted off to a restless sleep and thankfully when I awoke I didn’t need to make a beeline to the bathroom. My stomach felt tight, but the nausea had mostly passed. I was shaky too since during early morning hours, the contents of my huge cruise meals had ended up in the toilet, and although I couldn't feel it yet, I was probably hungry.

  Checking the clock, I saw only a couple of hours had passed since our party had gone ashore. I groaned in frustration because in my rush to get rid of my girlfriends, I forgot to tell them to leave me some food and water. The mini bar we'd raided the night before and was all but empty except a few bottles of beer. I couldn’t imagine beer would help provide any hydration after my vomit fest.

  On shaky limbs, I managed to make it to the bathroom without collapsing. I splashed ice cold water on my face, felt better for exactly one minute and in that time I scrubbed down as much of myself as I could with a washcloth, and then brushed my teeth. I was clean but it took up most of my energy. I didn’t know if I could bear the trip to a bar or restaurant for sustenance. Not to mention, I was sure to scare the passengers since they were likely to mistake me for one of the living dead—at least I didn't smell anymore, but I was so pale, under my tan. In case I rallied later and decided to head out, I changed out of my tank top and Capri pants into a freshly laundered t-shirt and cotton shorts.

  My body made the decision for me. I climbed back into bed and felt the energy seep out of me. I managed to reach for my cell phone on the nightstand to power it up. At the start of the week, I'd purchased a small web package through the cruise line to have limited access to Wi-Fi. Autumn told me to charge it to the room, but I had set up the account on my own. I was terrified of what our final bill would look like after all the expensive drinks we’d been downing like water. I had the distinct feeling Blake was going to offer to cover the bill and I’d have to figure out a way to force money on him. I could understand him wanting to treat his sister, and Delia had no issue with letting him, but I had enough cash to pay for my own drinks.

  My cell phone service was painfully slow, but I was able to get online. After a brief survey of my emails, I found little of importance. My boss from the restaurant emailed me my schedule for the next week, a reminder that the real world was out there waiting and the vacation was flying by at warp speed. Also, I had a few registration reminders regarding my fall graduate courses. It was daunting to think about starting college once again, but I was giddy as well. I’d gotten all the bullshit courses out of the way and would actually take classes that would help my career.

  My mom had emailed to check in. Following a paragraph of obligatory pleasantries, my mother had attached several selfies of herself in various dresses she was considering for an upcoming charity event. I was given clear instructions to send her back my top three picks in ranked order. I smiled, but then felt my grin slip. I appreciated my mom, but I wished I could call her right that second and pour my heart out. Tell her all my secrets, all my fears, and have her wash me clean of all my mistak
es with a few soothing words.

  But we didn’t have that kind of relationship and I was usually fine with it. But I wasn’t ready to tell my friends everything about Cole and Justin and I could have used a smattering of motherly advice. But I already knew what she’d say: Forget the struggling musician and snag the football player.

  One of my deepest fears was that I would confess my truth about Justin and my mother would still tell me he was the better romantic choice. I didn’t want her to validate my own low opinion of myself. For so long, I truly felt like I deserved a man who would treat me like less than a person. I hated the consistent buzzing in my brain that reminded me that Cole was good for me. Swallowing hard, I closed the email without sending off a response.

  Launching my phone’s web browser, I typed in Thomas Bridges. The results made the burning in my gut return. There was link after link advertising his exclusive interview with a pseudo-journalist who was known for asking “the tough questions.” I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. More like she was known for giving the worst of humanity a platform to spew their hate to the masses. Allowing rapists and pedophiles to tell their side was permitting them to put their victims through more emotional torture.

  I played the trailer for the interview, but besides a few sound bites from Thomas, it was mostly photographs of Blake in his Warriors uniform and then a few pictures of Autumn from high school. I cringed at seeing a few old Facebook photos that the media dug up on Autumn that her friends had posted after Autumn reported her sexual assault to the police. Autumn had spoken out against her high school’s hero coach and the small-town hadn’t taken well to it. In retaliation, they shared every sexy shot they could find of Autumn to paint her as a Lolita. With every sneak peek of her posing provocatively in short skirts and mid-drift tops, the media was saying, “She wanted it.” Slut shaming at its finest.

  The producers obviously wanted to entice viewers with Thomas making statements like, “He’s my son. He never knew his father and I made it my mission to be the best dad possible to him. No one can take him out of my heart.” And worse yet, “Was it revenge for Autumn? I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. Of all the men in the world, why go after my son?”

  Good lord, Thomas was a monster who had hidden in plain sight. I thought of Autumn and Delia seeing the interview and I felt hot-blooded rage on their behalf. Couldn’t the story ever die? Regrettably, the answer was probably no, since Blake was an NFL star. The media wanted to keep dissecting Blake and Autumn’s relationship for their own twisted curiosity. They were an anomaly and it felt like the world was almost rooting for their relationship to fail.

  I felt for Delia as well. Delia was only nineteen years old—didn’t her father think of how a national interview would affect the normal life she tried to craft for herself? She was thriving in her photography courses and she was madly in love with Levi. Being reminded of what her father had done could set back all the progress she made over the last year. In a way, Delia’s predicament was inescapable. She couldn’t permanently sever her blood ties to a monster.

  I stopped the video abruptly as I heard a knock at the door. I shoved the phone under my blanket in a panic. Although the sightseeing trip wasn’t scheduled to end for hours, Autumn may have bowed out early. Her Mother Theresa streak was what was going to help her thrive as a social worker. I would feel guilty if she did come back to check on me since I had no lingering effects of my food poisoning besides exhaustion.

  Before peeking out, I opened the door a fraction of an inch. I let out a surprised gasp. Cole was standing in the corridor with his hands shoved into his shorts pockets. I leaned into the doorframe because of how lightheaded his inexplicable appearance made me.

  I was always startled by Cole’s physical perfection. He was perfect Rolling Stones cover material: strikingly beautiful with a fitted t-shirt demonstrating the hard muscles of his chest and the half-sleeve tattoos accenting his cut arms. His smile was always what did me in: the devil-may-care smirk that made him seem unattainable. Cole was an enigma to most because he was a chameleon. With his family, he was the wiseass with a sick sense of humor. On stage, he was the hot bassist who oozed sex appeal. My layers weren’t the only ones peeled back while we were dating.

  “What are you doing here?” I managed in a breathy whisper.

  “I drew the shortest straw so I got stuck with babysitting duty,” he said, keeping the smirk in place. “Are you going to let me in or what?”

  I opened the door wider and a second too late thought about my rumpled appearance. Back when we were dating, I'd had a comfort level that left him unfazed when I wore ratty clothes to bed or didn’t brush my teeth first before kissing him good morning. At least I had the foresight to freshen up after my nap, so it could have been much worse.

  He glided by me while I shut the cabin door. When I turned to face him, we both said nothing. I was trying to get a read on him and I suspected he was trying to do the same. The game between us was dizzying and frustrating, and I was tired of spinning in circles with him. As soon as we took a step forward, we seemed to take two steps backwards.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at his t-shirt as he spoke. “Just came by to see how you were feeling.”

  “Thanks, but why? You should’ve went on the tour,” I said softly. My voice was barely audible, but my heart started beating erratically. I didn’t for a second buy that Cole was forced to stay behind. He obviously volunteered for the job. I took a step forward, instinctually wanting to be closer to him.

  He ignored my question. “Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

  My throat ached from thirst, but I chose to disregard the offer. Doubling back into the room, I sat down on the corner of the bed and looked up at him with wide eyes. “What’s going on with us?”

  His hazel eyes were swirling with so many colors and emotions. Girls who wanted mysterious guys were fools. I hated this sensation of not knowing where I stood with him. Maybe I wasn’t worthy of him, but I still needed him anyway. If he were willing to offer the tiniest crumbs of friendship, I would grasp at them as if my life depended on them. But I didn’t want to stick around if he would dangle possibilities in front of my face, only to snatch them out of reach at the last second. “This whole hot and cold thing? You tell me you’re planning to hook up with other women on vacation, but then you tell me that you’ve missed me. You act like a jealous boyfriend on the beach, but then stalk off when I don’t give you the answers about our relationship that you want to hear.”

  He pulled out the desk chair and spun it around to face the bed. Sinking down into the chair, he watched me carefully for an endless moment. “You’re right.”

  “Come again?”

  He pinched his full lips together before he spoke. “You’re right. I guess my head, heart and body are telling me different things.”

  My swallow was painful. “Like what?”

  “My head told me to come on this vacation to prove to you and myself that I’m done. I’d hook up with someone else and maybe get you back in the process for hurting me.” He had the decency to look contrite. Maybe I deserved to be burned by him, but I had hoped Cole wouldn’t have the payback mindset once he saw me again. “But my heart isn’t over you. I miss seeing you, hearing your voice, talking to you. We were friends first and I hated the feeling like I lost my best friend.”

  He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. My heart pounded against my ribs as I felt his breath drift over my skin. “And my body wants to pull down your pants and bury my cock inside your tight pussy until we both come.”

  Holy shit. I had forgotten how fucking hot Cole could make me. His words went straight to my core and created a pleasurable burn inside me. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t breathe. I could only focus on how close Cole was to the bed and how many seconds it would take him to be in top of me and deliver on his promise.

  My answer to what I wanted must have been clear on
my face because Cole lifted out of his chair and flattened his palms against the mattress. He put one knee up onto the mattress, followed by the other. I felt like one of the helpless gazelles grazing while the ravenous lion stalked her. Cole licked his lips and I prepared to be devoured.

  I sucked in a fortifying breath as his mouth found mine. I whimpered in ecstasy as I tasted him again for the first time in ages. His kiss was hot and fierce. Nothing was subtle about it. Cole wanted me and he would have me on his terms. On instinct, I tumbled back onto the bed as he pressed his long and muscled frame against my chest. His hands tangled in my hair as he brought me in closer to him. His tongue danced with mine as I kissed him back just as greedily.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he growled as his mouth moved away from mine and he started to kiss my neck. I pushed back my hair and leaned my head back to give him easier access. His tongue carved out an erotic path starting at the base of my neck before moving down further between my breasts. My breasts felt fuller as they strained against the fabric of my t-shirt, anxious to be let free and land in Cole’s capable hands. Cole pushed down the neckline and kept one hand firmly on each of my breasts. He used his thumb to push down the lacy trim of my bra before taking my nipple into his warm mouth. I almost wished for a pause button in order to keep him in place for as long as I wished.

  I arched my back as I felt the pleasant sensation of his gentle sucking. My body writhed under him as I battled to breathe properly. I moaned to show him how much I loved what he was doing and to persuade him never to stop. Pausing for the briefest of seconds, he then caught my nipple carefully between his teeth. His bites were quick with just enough pressure to drive me wild with desire. My panties wanted to drop so bad, I was sure I’d give him whiplash.