Page 216 of Summer Heat
“Come in,” he shouts from his in-suite bathroom.
I walk in and look around at his messy room before I plop down on his comfortable bed. Aubry’s room is bigger than mine, but the view from mine is much nicer and I have a small balcony, which I love since I have a little set up for my organic vegetables there.
“So what’d you guys talk about?” I ask as I bite down on my lip to keep from smiling.
“Oh, you know, nothing of importance. We set up a sex date for next week. Other than that not much,” he says in a serious tone.
I wrinkle my nose as I sit up. “What?” I ask as I turn to face him.
He breaks out in laughter. “Just kidding, Blake, damn. I told her I’d call her next week so we can go have dinner.”
“Why next week?” I ask confused.
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He exhales harshly. “I don’t know, Blake. I just need time to think about shit. She seems like a nice girl, and she’s hot as fuck. I don’t wanna fuck it up with her.”
I walk over to him and give him a hug. “Good. I think you guys would be good together.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Cowboy. Thank you.”
I smile up at him and go back to my room. Once I’m lying down, I call Cole’s phone.
“Hello?” answers a female voice.
I bite down on my tongue to suppress the urge to growl at her. “Hey, Erin. It’s Blake. Is Cole available?” I say as politely as I can. Why is she answering his phone?
Erin Kelley is a Sports Illustrated model. She’s landed the cover—twice. I hate her. I hate her perfectly non-frizzy wavy platinum blonde hair. I hate her skinny, tall, gorgeous body. I hate her lively blue eyes. Most of all, I hate that she has him.
“Hey, Blake,” she replies cheerfully. “He’s in the shower right now. Do you want to leave a message, or do I tell him to call you back? I haven’t seen you in a while. I heard you had a relaxing weekend.”
Oh yeah, and I hate that she’s so damn nice to me.
“Yup. My weekend was pretty uneventful, which I was glad for. Just have him call me back. It’s not that important though. Thanks.”
“I’ll let him know, but I’m sure he’ll call you back anyway,” she replies kindly.
Ugh. Why can’t she be a bitch? It would be so easy to wish bad things on her if she was a bitch. I know why I hate her. I hate her for the same reason Cole hates Russell. The thought of Cole hating Russell makes me smile.
“Thanks again, Erin. Good night,” I reply, smiling into the line. Not that she can see it, but I know she’ll hear it.
I hang up and sit Indian-style in bed, trying to get the image of Erin and Cole out of my head. I’m still clutching my phone in my hand and trying to figure out whether or not I watered my tomato tree today when it starts vibrating. Cole. I smile—a showing-all-my-teeth, ridiculously goofy, “I feel like I’m fucking fifteen again” smile.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” Cole says hushed.
I always loved that he called me that. Now I wonder if he calls her that. My stomach drops at the thought, and suddenly, I hate it.
“Do you call her that?” I ask a little rougher than I intended.
He laughs—a full-out belly laugh. I hate him. “Why? Would it bother you if I did?”
“No,” I lie as I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Yes, it would. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t be asking me,” he replies, and I can hear him smiling. I want to scratch his eyes out.
“Whatever. Don’t answer me. I don’t want to know,” I say annoyed. “I called to ask you if you’ve heard anything from that P.I. of yours.”
