[Bianca]
In the end what I did or didn't say was of no consequence, because Cole didn't budge.
"Just come, you stubborn woman," he commanded.
He ushered me out of the restaurant, through the lobby, eventually presenting me to his private elevator. Once we were inside and the elevator was moving, he flipped the emergency stop switch and the elevator shut down.
"See one too many NCIS episodes?" I asked, feeling I had humored this near stranger long enough.
My dry humor got me a snigger as he leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, sitting down with his legs crossed, motioning for me to do the same.
I looked down at the dress I had picked out for the night. Black and strapless with a mid-thigh slit. I didn't know which was worse: sitting or standing.
"Don't trust you enough," I concluded. "Or at all really."
"Must everything be an argument with you?" he asked, offering me his hand, which I refused to accept.
We stayed like this for what felt like an age. Cole took his jacket off, offering it to me. I declined, but as my anxiety subsided, so too did my will to keep standing.
As my butt hit the floor, I heard the dress rip. My hands instinctively covered my bosom.
"Wrong body parts," he said with a smirk.
I followed his line of sight. The slit had widened, splitting the dress all the way up to my belly.
He leaned in and asked, "All in black tonight?" His eyes drifted down to my cleavage. "Glad I sent lingerie too."
I grabbed my dress and scooted away from him, scrambling to cover up the panties he'd so blatantly stared at moments before. My whole head burst into flames from the embarrassment.
"That's none of your business," I snapped, annoyed at myself for wearing the thong I found tucked in between one of the other two dresses.
Of course not, I wanted to lie, but fuck I didn't trust myself while panic steam rolled its way through me.
"There, now that's better," he said, licking his lips, a crooked grin playing on them. "Much better when it's just you and I, right?"
I stopped fussing as it dawned on me that he didn't bring me here to take me back to his suite and make passionate love to me. Of course he didn't. Of the fifty women on the island that he could have, why would he pick the one that was constantly yelling at him about something or other?
Why the fuck did he dress me up and treat me like a fucking princess then?
"An odd place to take someone who is having a panic attack, don't you think? All confined and small as this tin can is," I noted.
"Well, that depends. If you were feeling claustrophobic, then perhaps. If, however, it was the people making you anxious, then this is the perfect place to go. Always works for me. This is my safe space," he answered with a shrug.
And it worked, exactly as he intended. The alarm was blaring loudly all around us, but there he and I sat, on the ground, perfectly at ease. When did the palpations and gasping for breath stop?
His shoulders relaxed and for the first time since walking in on my fiancé fucking my sister, mine did too. It was only when I caught myself smiling at him that I felt it. A feeling of vulnerability and openness came over me, followed directly by nausea at the recognition of the same.
He was too easy to be around. To fucking like. I wasn't ready to like someone, much less a perfect specimen of the physical human form.
Remembering my inappropriate state of dress, I gathered up my dress and bundled it up, covering myself as best I could while rising. I flipped the switch and pushed the button for the ground floor. Over and over I pushed it, but still up we went.
Once we did at last start descending again, my anxiety levels went right back up. Cole, ever the gentleman, rose to his full height.
"You've made it perfectly clear that you won't come up with me, but you can't step out there like this," he said, throwing the jacket over my shoulders.
His eyes met mine and my heart stopped. I couldn't take him being so nice to me. I felt weak, malleable, like putty in his hands. My body needed to be away from his, but damn it, he smelled so good.
I remembered just how soft those lips were under my finger while looking straight at them. As I wracked my brain for how to respond, the elevator doors dinged open. Our heads turned, a flash of light drawing our attention.
The source of said light was a phone. By the time we knew what was happening, the owner had caught up with us.
"Miss Chase, Ryan Summers from Universal Gazette. Are you and Mr. Hunter dating?" the man asked.
"Give me that," Cole raged, snatching the phone out of Ryan's hand.
"I know you," I said, trying to recall from where.
That was right. This was the man whom Harmon had diverted away from us before Cole brought me to the elevator.
"Mr. Hunter, can you explain the ripped dress and why you're sneaking Miss Chase out of your suite if you're not dating?"
When I remembered where it was that I knew Ryan from, my glare went from him to Cole.
"So, no phones on your island, huh?" I roared, as Cole continued trying to unlock Ryan's phone.
Fucking gentleman, my ass. When would I stop fucking giving everyone the benefit of the doubt? Didn't I learn anything from Jason and Brianna?
At my words, Cole froze.
"Now hold on a second," said Cole, studying my face, anger and alarm spreading out on his own.
I wasn't about to comply of course. When Cole reached for me, I slapped him, shoved my heel into his foot for good measure. Then I ran.