Morning After - Part 3

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He mopped up the soggy mess and threw away the paper towels, deciding whether it was safe to continue eating around a man who, over cereal, casually brought up the fact that Cole had enjoyed being bathed while blackout drunk. One of the cups of coffee appeared beside his cereal bowl. There was not any latte art or anything, but it looked fancier than anything Cole had ever made at home, which consisted of microwaved water and instant coffee. He pouted at Gideon.

"What do you mean I liked it?"

Gideon leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee, then shrugged. "You liked it. You told me so. Said that it was nice to have someone taking care of you."

Cole put his face in his hands. "I was drunk," he defended.

"Nothing wrong with wanting someone to take care of you," Gideon said. "Especially after what you'd gone through."

Gideon was probably talking about last night specifically, but Cole saw his entire life flash before his eyes. He blinked a few times and frowned. "I don't need you to take care of me."

"You may not need it, but you do want it."

Cole dropped the spoon into his bowl and shoved it away, flexing his fingers wide. Things felt like they were rapidly spiraling out of control. He did not know Gideon one bit.

He did not know what he did to make all the money that funded his crazy mansion and his hobby of throwing thousands of dollars at strippers. Terrible things, he was sure, since Gideon was in the inner family, and they were supposedly the worst of the worst. He did not know if Gideon really was a playboy like James said he was – although since he and Cole first met in a strip club, that was probably true.

He did not even know if Gideon was a dog or a cat person.

But he did know what Gideon was like in bed - domineering. He got off on playing mind games to make Cole remain still or beg for an orgasm. He probably loved having Cole say he wanted Gideon to take care of him. He was gloating about it.

But Cole's head was still spinning. He was still on the merry-go-round, his entire world shifting and changing around him so quickly that it was all just a blur. When he did step off, he would likely fall flat on his face and, even then, need some time to get his feet under him. He did not feel equipped at that particular moment to have whatever conversation Gideon was trying to have. Or to examine the fact that he was far less distressed by the idea of Gideon taking care of him than he should be.

He shook his head. He should deny being into it. The last time he tried to rely on someone had been with Logan, which ended up spectacularly terrible and eventually led to his whole debacle. But he did not want to. And all he could get out was, "Yeah, well..."

He took a page out of Gideon's book and let the sentence trail off.

Before Gideon could demand clarity, a loud bang echoed through the hallway outside the kitchen. Two of the bodyguards – goons, Cole decided to be more accurate - from last night appeared in the doorway. They were once again dressed in their suits and sunglasses, all big-shouldered and pinched expressions. Instead of saying a greeting like a normal human being, they just stood there and stared at Gideon, who stared back in some type of psycho-mobster telepathic form of communication. Cole picked up his coffee and watched with interest – glad for the distraction.

"Time to go," one of the goons said when it became clear that Gideon was not going to move unless verbally prompted.

"Um." Cole popped his lips at the end of a long hum, "I'm still drinking my coffee."

Everyone, Gideon included, sent him a startled look. Cole slurped loudly.

Maybe they all thought that the display of violence last night would make him meek and cooperative, but they did not know him. He might cooperate, but he would be an absolute nightmare about it. This was how he dealt with uncomfortable situations - by pulling out an alter ego version of himself, kind of like how he whipped out Nikki at work.

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