Page 22 of No Going Back

The shower drones on in the background, water hitting tile, Hannah humming faintly. We don’t care.

I thrust shallowly into his mouth; he bucks up into mine. Hands gripping thighs, nails digging in. No words, just wet sounds, muffled groans, the couch creaking under us.

I feel him start to tense first, thighs shaking, cock swelling against my tongue. I hollow my cheeks, take him to the back of my throat. He comes with a choked whimper, spilling hot and thick; I swallow it all, groaning around him.

The second he finishes he doubles down, sucking hard, tongue flicking the underside, one hand cupping my balls. I tip over fast, hips jerking, coming down his throat with a low, broken moan I barely muffle against his hip.

We collapse, panting, tangled again. I rest my forehead on his thigh, catching my breath. He strokes lazy circles on my back.

I stand up on shaky legs, thighs still trembling. My cock is softening fast, sticky and spent. Cole groans low in his throat, pulling his boxers back up with one hand while the other scrubs over his face.

“Fuck…” he mutters, voice wrecked. “That was the quickest I’ve ever come… god help me.”

I laugh, breathless, grinning so wide it hurts, and head down the hall before I do something stupid like climb back on top of him.

I slip into my room first. It smells like Hannah now, the faint floral perfume she always wears, and it twists something uncomfortable in my chest. I ignore it, yank open my drawer and grab a pair of black jeans I don’t wear often. Tight fit, strategic rips at the knees and thighs, the kind that hug my ass and make people look twice. I step into them, tug them up, button them, then grab black socks and pull them on while I’m still half-naked. Quick spray of deodorant under my arms.

Then I sneak into Cole’s room. His favourite tee is hanging over the back of his desk chair, baggy even on him, faded navy with an old logo cracked across the chest. I pull it on without thinking twice. It’s loose on me too, but it smells like him, clean sweat, his body wash, that faint cedar edge that always lingers on his skin. I ruffle my hair in his mirror, letting it fall messy and tousled, then walk back out to the main area like I’m not casually dressed to ruin his day.

Cole’s leaning against the counter, chugging from a water bottle. He looks up mid-sip, and chokes. Water sprays out of his mouth, dripping down his chin. He coughs, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes wide as they rake over me from head to toe.

I raise my brows. “You good, man?”

“Yeah…” He wipes his mouth again, voice rough. “Yeah, I’m great… great.”

His gaze drags down my body, lingering on the way the jeans cling to my thighs, the way his own shirt drapes over my shoulders and chest. “Jesus Christ… have you always been this hot?”

Heat floods my face. I wasn’t expecting him to just… say it, out loud; so open and forward.

Cole grins, slow and wicked, biting his bottom lip as he steps closer. “You look good in my clothes.”

Before I can respond he reaches around with both hands and squeezes my ass, firm and possessive, thumbs digging into the denim right where it hugs me tightest. I lose my breath.

He smirks, gives one last squeeze, then steps back. “I’m off to get dressed.”

I’m literally speechless, mouth open and brain short-circuiting.

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Five minutes later he walks back out and I nearly die. His hair’s deliberately dishevelled, dark strands falling over his forehead in that effortless way he knows drives people insane. A tight black tee stretches over his shoulders and chest, showing every ridge of muscle. Our team’s letterman jacket is thrown over the top… open, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Shorts that hit mid-thigh, showing off the thick, hairy legs he’s built from years of squats and sprints. The whole look is casual but devastating.

I groan and slump deeper into the couch cushions like I’ve been punched. Cole laughs, pleased, smug as hell, and walks over. He crouches down in front of me, forearms resting on my thighs, face level with mine.

“Who made you so flawless?” I mutter, half-joking, half-serious.

He grins wider. “You’re only just noticing how handsome your best friend is… after all these years?”

I laugh, cheeks burning. “Don’t let it go to your head; your ego might explode.”

Cole’s never bragged about his looks. Never fished for compliments or strutted for anyone. This cocky, flirty version, is new, and it’s just for me. I like it way too much.

I sigh, scoot to the edge of the couch, and lean forward until my forehead rests against his. His hands settle on my thighs, warm and steady.

Cole kisses the tip of my nose, soft and sweet. “What’s going on in that mind?”

I swallow, chest heavy with a sad ache. “I need to break up with her, don’t I?”

He sighs too, quiet and resigned. “Yeah… I think you should. I can’t lie, man, it’s gonna fucking suck. But she’s clearly not what you want.”