The Consequence of Loving Colton

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Milo,” he whispered against my mouth. “I. Love. You.”

  He reached between our bodies.

  And I blacked out.

  Okay, I didn’t black out.

  But it felt like I blacked out.

  Covered in sweat, I lay there like an idiot, with a total idiot-like smile on my face as Colton started swearing all over the place and then finally, as if he had no energy left in his body, managed to fall to the side and swear again.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He swore again, then started laughing.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because,” he chuckled. “I want you again.”

  “But we just—”

  “What can I say? I’ve waited a long time and my body, it seems, isn’t quite satisfied with just one moment. Good thing we have all night. And just in case you didn’t catch it before, Milo . . .” He kissed my temple. “I love you more than life. More than my life, more than Max and Jason’s put together.” I laughed and lazily pushed at his shoulder. “The love I have for you isn’t going to fade—even if I do end up like Jason.”

  “In the hospital?”

  “Yeah. Or Max.”

  “Thrown under buses?”

  “Or Reid.”

  “Drugged?”

  “Hey.” His mouth tickled my ear. “You can drug me anytime you want.”

  “Aw,” I sighed, my body buzzing with happiness. “Our pillow talk is so sexy—drugs, my best friend, my brother—really, you’re so good at this.”

  “Is that a challenge?” As if he’d suddenly drunk an entire bottle of Red Bull he got up on his hands and knees and glared.

  My body was already starting to respond as I flushed with heat from head to toe, already buzzing with excitement. “Yes.”

  He pounced.

  I laughed.

  And an hour later I knew exactly why he was so good—at everything.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  MAX

  Meanwhile, back at the house . . .

  “I should be an opera singer.”

  Jason squinted at me through his good-ish eye and rolled it; at least I think he rolled it. It kind of bounced up, then to the side, so he could have been seizing for all I knew, but whatever. Point is, I could feel his doubt at my ability to sing a middle freaking C.

  “I’ll prove it.” I stood shakily. You’d think that after all that bread at dinner I’d be able to kill a bottle of champagne on my own. Not. I staggered over to the piano and hit the key.

  “Please don’t.” Jason covered his ears. “They’re all I have left.”

  “Dude!” I snorted. “You have your balls, right? Most important thing, amigo. Now watch.”

  His beady eye narrowed. “Funny.”

  “Okay,” I sighed. “Listen—don’t watch.”

  “Listening. Only because I’m drugged and Jenna’s fallen asleep across my body and moving means I’m a complete idiot.”

  I nodded in understanding. “Because she’s hot.”

  “No, you ass, because she’d fall.”

  “Lies.”

  “Just play your damn song!”

  “So now you want me to play it,” I muttered, falling onto the bench and swaying backward a bit.

  “Baby when the lights go out . . .” I pounded the keys and looked up, and crooned slower, “Every single word cannot express . . .”

  “Please stop making eye contact,” Jason seethed, his eyes narrowing as he put a pillow in front of him like I had been singing to his parts.

  I stopped playing. “Scared you’ll dig it too much? I feel you. So much man is . . . a rarity.”

  “Do you ever stop talking?” Jason asked. “Or is this normal for you?”

  “I’m sorry, you’re going to need to repeat the question. I don’t understand.” I totally understood, I just really found joy in pissing Jason off, there was also the whole “My best friend is currently getting screwed by Colt” and I really, really didn’t want to have to kill him and bury the body if he didn’t get things right.

  Jason closed his eye and winced. “Why is this weekend not ending?”

  “Because the universe hates you, and you agreed to marry a bloodsucking wannabe Real Housewife of New York, who would have used her nails as a way to kill you so we’d all end up on Dateline—crying.”

  Jason flinched. “That entire speech made no sense at all and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t grammatically correct.”

  “You’re not grammatically correct,” I fired back, pounding on the piano keys. “And I don’t care, that shit with Jayne was crazy. I basically saved your life.”

  Jason threw his hands in the air. “How do you figure? Did you marry me instead? Did you get rid of Jayne?”

  Just then Jayne walked round the corner, a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Max, I’m ready for our playtime.”

  My balls actually quivered with fear.

  No, really.

  It’s medically possible.

  It’s been proven that balls can actually shake from fear and trepidation—and I’d just experienced it.

  Plus, she had claws.

  Like superhuman claws that—once she dug into my tender flesh—would most likely end up rendering me paralyzed from the waist down.

  I turned to Jason. “You were saying?”

  He immediately closed his eyes and acted like he was sleeping.

  “Someone’s not getting a Christmas present this year,” I muttered, then stood. “Ah, Jayne, you look . . .” I shook my head. I had nothing. Nothing. She looked like hell. Her lipstick was smeared halfway across her face, her mascara was meeting said lipstick down her cheek, making little cross signs on her almost-concave face.

  I shuddered and spit out, “Lovely, just, lovely.”

  “Aw, Max!” She reached for me. I flinched again.

  Reid chose that moment to stumble into the living room, a look of pure horror on his face.

  “Dude.” He pushed Jayne out of the way. “We have to go.”

  “But I was having so much fun,” I said dryly, thanking my freaking lucky stars that my brother wasn’t stuck in a bedroom with Grandma, or worse, dead because he couldn’t live with the memories of what it was like to be smothered by her.

  “She’s insatiable,” he whimpered. “And a man can only do so much, you know? And I mean, she’s—look, we just have to go.”

  “Fine.” I pretended to be heartbroken when I took Jayne’s hand in mine and forced my eyes to fill with tears. “Parting is such sweet, sweet sorrow, my Jayne, I mean Juliet—damn, the names are just so easily interchangeable.”

  “Oh, Max!” Her lower lip quivered.

  Ha, funny, her mouth and my balls had something in common.

  Fear.

  “Can I have your number?” I said smoothly, effortlessly. Damn, I should have seriously been an actor. I could say shit like that all day and pretend like I didn’t want to stab her with the nearest utensil no matter how rusty it might be.

  “Of course!” She fumbled a bit while pulling her phone out of her purse. I had half a mind to feel sorry for her. Then I saw her teeth and razor-sharp nails again and did a little jump backward. I even lifted the pants a bit—just to make sure the boys were still secure and hadn’t totally abandoned me by going back inside my body—rendering me sexless.

  “What’s your number?” she asked, her fingers hovering in anticipation.

  Well, damn, she just made it way too easy. With a happy sigh I fired off a cell number—my ex-girlfriend’s.

  And honestly? Jayne had nothing on that bitch. The ex would chew her up, spit her out, and ask for more in the morning. Pity.

  “Let’s go.” Reid tugged my arm.

  “’Bye, guys.” Jayne pouted.

  “’Bye.” I patted her head and shouted our departure to Jason. “Dude, slow down.”

  Reid was full-on sprinting toward my Jeep. “She can smell fear!”

  “Who?”

  “Grandma. I swear
that nose of hers is like a tracking device, she can smell me. Find me anywhere!”

  “Gross, dude.” I shook my head. “Nobody needs to hear that.”

  We both got into the car and pulled out of the driveway.

  “So.” Reid hit the steering wheel. “Know any hotels we can go to?”

  I smirked and looked at my watch. Ah, they should be done by now. “Sure, there’s this great little boutique hotel just down the road . . .”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  COLTON

  “Did you hear that?” I tried to lift my arm but lacked the energy to do so; my superhuman strength had been completely spent. I seriously wasn’t sure I could even get up to get a drink of water if I wanted to.

  Milo was an animal.

  I’d be proudly sporting bruises come morning. I couldn’t wait to point at my arm and smirk at Jason. Ah yes, his good eye was going to get its fill.

  “I’ll make love to you,” a male voice crooned, “like you want me to.”

  Milo sat up, causing the sheet to fall to her waist. My body, tired as it was, suddenly felt like it had gotten a shot of adrenaline. “Did you hear that?”

  “No,” I lied, as the sound of music trickled into our room. “Nothing.”

  “I’ll make love!” the voice started screaming and the music was turned up louder.

  “Someone’s singing.”

  “You’re dreaming.” I laughed nervously so I wouldn’t cry. I reached out to pull her back down into the bed, but she got up and walked over to the door.

  “Milo, it’s probably some drunken guest hanging out in the hall.”

  She looked through the peephole in the door and laughed. “Close.”

  Please don’t say Max, please don’t say Max.

  She turned around. “It’s Reid.”

  “Thank God.”

  “With Max.”

  “Damn it!” I smacked my hand against the pillows and pouted.

  “Aw, they look tired.” She giggled.

  “Step away from the door!” I shouted. “They’ll hear you!”

  “Our boy band rocked,” said a muffled Reid.

  “Dude!” Max chuckled. “We had all the girls rockin’ to our swaying hips. What, what?”

  I groaned into my hands.

  Milo turned and put her hands on her hips. “We can’t just leave them out there!”

  “We can.” I nodded emphatically. “We will. We can and we will.”

  She smirked and stretched seductively next to me. “You have those crazy eyes, the same ones you had when Jason told you his pee-pee was bigger.”

  “Damn it, woman! I was seven! And can we not talk about your brother’s”—I waved into the air—“when we’re both naked?”

  “Aw.” She sauntered toward me. My eyes glazed over as they took their fill of her gloriously naked body. “I love you.”

  Irritation forgotten, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her swiftly across the mouth.

  The singing got louder.

  My kisses turned into a string of curses against her lips.

  “Colt,” she whispered. “Let’s put on some clothes and let them in.”

  “No,” I pouted and crossed my arms. The last thing I wanted was Max and Reid on my honeymoon! “I won’t do it.”

  “I bet I could make you.” Her one eyebrow arched. I looked at it, then at her lips, then back at that damn eyebrow.

  “How?”

  She shrugged. “If you don’t let them in, you’ll find out.”

  “Damn unfair life.” I reached for a bathrobe and pulled it on. Then pointed at Milo. “Put on your dress and a bathrobe and like a towel or something.”

  “So I sweat to death?”

  Yeah, I was losing it.

  “Er, um, just put on lots of clothes.”

  She winked and stepped into her dress, having it zipped and looking presentable within seconds.

  At least now I’d get to take it off again, right?

  Someone pounded on the door.

  Muttering a curse, I opened it up and came face-to-face with hotel security. “These boys belong to you?”

  I painted what I hoped was a mystified look on my face and shook my head. “No.” Behind me, Milo’s scream of delight rang through the room, damn near shaking the walls.

  “Yes!”

  “Betrayer,” Reid seethed from his drunken spot on the floor while Max kept singing Boyz II Men.

  Milo stepped under my arm and greeted the security guard. “Thanks for finding our friends.”

  “Sure thing,” he grumbled. “Just make sure they sober up and sleep it off. We don’t want them driving in their condition.”

  I wanted to say that Max was always like that, but bit my tongue.

  Milo nodded, thanked him again, and helped Reid off the floor while Max and I had a stare-down in the hall.

  “So,” Max asked smoothly. “How’d things go?”

  “You bastard.”

  “Ah.” He put his hand over his heart. “Harsh words for the man who got you laid.”

  “Don’t ever”—my voice shook—“repeat that sentence . . . ever again.”

  Max opened his mouth.

  “Ever,” I interrupted.

  He shrugged. “Can I come in now?”

  “Sure, cock-blocker, have at it.”

  “Whoa!” He started laughing, uncontrollably swaying a bit on his feet.

  Oh, good, I’d get to clean up puke in the morning. So much to look forward to. No more naked Milo. Nope, most likely it would be me and a naked Max in the bathroom. The joys of adulthood.

  He leaned forward and squinted at me. “So you didn’t get any.”

  I smacked him on the back of the head and sent him stumbling forward a couple of steps. “Oh, I had plenty. Tell me, how’s Jayne?”

  Max muttered something under his breath while Milo helped Reid to the chair.

  “How’s Jason?” Milo asked. “And Grandma?”

  Reid started screaming and scrambled for the door. I literally had to hold his shaking body in the chair. It took him a few seconds to calm himself before he nodded and closed his eyes.

  Max cleared his throat. “We, uh, we don’t use her name anymore on account that Reid nearly ran in front of two cars while crossing the parking lot to get to the hotel. He was spurred on by my utterance of her name and ran around the hotel screaming for a good ten minutes before I knocked him out.”

  “Hmm.” Milo laughed. “I thought I heard a dying dog or something. So that was Reid?”

  Reid opened his eyes and glared. “I panicked, okay? I mean, what if she had followed me?”

  “In her walker?” I asked. “Plus she doesn’t have a driver’s license.”

  Reid shook his head. “She’d find a way. Believe me.”

  “So . . . this is cozy.” Max sniffled and looked around. “Damn, I’m a good friend.”

  “Yes, I was saying those exact words until I heard singing in the hallway.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t singing—it was crooning. Half my cousins were conceived by Boyz II Men.”

  “And when you say conceived, you mean to the song.”

  Max laughed. “Or do I?”

  I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. “You guys can’t stay here.”

  “Colton!” they all said in unison, including my blushing bride.

  She punched my arm. “Where else would they go? Reid’s terrified and it’s not like they can go back to the house. They aren’t even fit to walk, let alone drive!”

  I glared at Max—in fact I had an entire conversation with him in my head. It went something like this.

  I narrowed my eyes, meaning, I hate you.

  He narrowed his right back, meaning, I know, but deal with it, bitch.

  I bit down on my lip and made a cutting motion across my neck with my hand, saying, Look, you touch her, I’ll kill you. Yeah, we were married and she was mine, but still, the vision of him being with her was still fresh in my mind. His hands h
ad been on her, my woman.

  He lifted his hands in the air and waved a bit as if saying, It’s cool, dude. I don’t like her in that way.

  I nodded once in understanding.

  He nodded twice.

  We exchanged a fist pump.

  And suddenly all was well in the world again.

  Men—we’re easy.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  MILO

  I yawned and had settled happily against Colt’s chest when the thought hit me. Tomorrow. Holy crap! I was supposed to be driving home tomorrow!

  “Oh, no!” I jerked away from him and tumbled to the floor, taking Max with me. Reid was over in the corner—he’d given us strict instructions that we weren’t to touch him when he was sleeping.

  We listened, mainly because Max swore Reid carried a Swiss Army knife and none of us wanted to be caught on the other end of it.

  “I was sleeping!” Max pouted from underneath me.

  Colt scrambled off the bed and pulled me to my feet. “What? Are you hurt? What’s wrong? I swear if Max touched you—”

  “How could I be guilty? All I did was breathe!” he argued.

  “If Max breathed wrong on you . . .” Colt continued, his eyes fierce.

  “No, it’s not Max.” I pressed my fingers against my temples. “It’s just . . . I was planning on going back to town tomorrow. I have a month left of school!”

  “We know,” Max and Colt said in unison.

  “But I just got married.” I said it slow . . . because they were men.

  “Right.” Colt nodded.

  Helplessly I turned to look at Max, but he wore the same blank expression Colt did. “Guys! This is a really big deal. I’m married and I’m leaving and . . .” Oh, no, here come the tears . . .

  “Milo.” Colt put his hands on my shoulders. “How many days are in a month?”