"I wasn't really sleeping well either," Cole says sympathetically. He has no idea what he's doing to me. I'm breathless, embarrassed by things he can't possibly know, but it still makes my cheeks burn.My emotions are jumbled. I look up at him. He's too old. I'm too young. He's from money. I hate money. I glance at Cole again. Damn. I still want him. That stirring, whatever put the idea into my head didn't leave when I woke up, and having him that close is like setting a magnet on a compass. My emotions are spinning like a top.It's after 2:00am, but I feel wound tight. Pushing off, the couch I tell him, "I'm getting a drink. You want one?"Smiling, he teases, "Sure, but are you legal?"My cotton shorts cling to my hips as I walk away. I laugh over my shoulder, "Legal to do things you couldn't imagine, old man." I have no idea why I said that, but it makes me feel better. Cole remains in the den, but by the time I come back with drinks, he's sitting on my bed, also known as the couch.He was sleeping on the floor next to me. The den doors were closed and my parents left us alone to make babies all night.I hand him a glass with whiskey at the bottom and a can of Coke. I have a glass of wine. When he takes his glass, I clink them together, "Cheers."He nods, pours the Coke into his glass,