Colton

by Melissa Belle

“Make love to me, Colt.” Skylar’s hands find their way underneath my t-shirt. “Please.”

  Placing my hand on the small of her back, I bring her against me, so we can feel every inch of each other. “You never have to ask,” I murmur, as I give her what she wants.

  * * *

  We wake up early the next morning, and get on the road. Our drive is smooth and free of much traffic all the way to Boulder. I tell Sky I made us reservations already, and that I want to surprise her. She says that she’s not big on surprises, so it better be a good one. She says it teasingly, but I catch the tone of caution in her words, and my chest squeezes with the need to take away her fears.

  I’m behind the wheel as we take the familiar road into town, the mountains growing bigger as we get closer.

  “I forgot how beautiful they are,” Sky says, her tone heavy with awe.

  “Me, too. We’ve had a game in Denver twice since I was drafted, and I always look forward to those trips. It’s funny, though—I never went into Boulder.”

  “I imagine it would have been difficult to find the time,” she says.

  She’s being kind, but the truth is that I was a coward. I didn’t want to dredge up memories of the last-ever trip I took with both my parents. I didn’t know how I’d handle it, and the idea of flying back with my team after going down memory lane didn’t feel anything short of torturous.

  “I’m glad we’re here together,” I say, reaching over and taking her hand in mine.

  I drive through Boulder, and keep going until the houses get further and further apart. Soon, I’m pulling onto a familiar-looking dirt road.

  “Wait.” Sky jerks her head toward me, her eyes turning a dark shade of green. “Is this…”

  “The same campground we met at? Yes.”

  My eyes meet hers. I watch her expression shift from panic, to excitement, to happiness, to anxiety, all in the space of a few seconds.

  “You said your uncle doesn’t run this place anymore,” I say in confusion. “Didn’t you?”

  She swallows so hard I can see her throat move from here. “That’s right.”

  “I’m sorry you’re upset.” I slow the car to a stop and pull to the side. “Talk to me. Would you rather stay somewhere else?”

  “No. I don’t know.” She pulls at a strand of her fiery hair. “We don’t even have a motor coach with us. So what made you pick this campground? Other than the obvious.”

  I check the reasons off on my fingers as I list them. “It takes pets. They have several travel trailers that they rent out, and the front desk emailed me a few photos. They look really nice, and one was available. But the biggest reason? I wanted to be here with you. Last time we were here was so brief, but we connected, in a way I never have with anyone else. I guess I thought it would be nice to come back together. But I should have checked with you first. I had wanted to surprise you.”

  She grabs my hand. “Colt. I want to stay here, too.”

  I study her. “Are you sure?”

  She nods, but a shadow passes over her face.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” I say.

  She waves toward the road. “Let’s go check in, and I’ll fill you in.”

  “You’re sure this is where you want to stay? There are plenty of other options around.”

  “I am. I would say if I didn’t want to.” Her eyes tell me she’s being honest. “I promise.”

  I put the car back into drive and we wind our way down the tree-lined road.

  Around several large bends, the view opens up to a large log cabin, the same reception building as ten years ago. I pull into one of the parking spaces and stop the car.

  “Do you want to keep the A/C on for Karma and River?” I ask Sky. “I can just run in and get our key.”

  She smiles at me. “That would be great. You’re not going to let me pay half, are you?”

  I lean over and give her a hard peck on the lips. “Nope. Be right back.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sky spins around the sizable travel trailer, her gaze lighting on everything she can take in. From the stainless steel kitchen appliances, to the dining area that can alternatively be used as a lounge or a bed, the living area is spacious and inviting.

  Of course, I don’t plan for us to sleep out in the main room. I take Sky’s hand and lead her through the length of the trailer, past the bathroom, which has a decent-sized shower, to the queen bed backed by a large picture window overlooking the alpine forest.

  “It’s so pretty,” she says breathily. She throws her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly. “I’ve literally never seen a trailer that looks like this. The one my uncle had us staying in last time was the resort’s low-end style—it had a few maintenance issues as well, which is how he was able to get us in free of charge.”

  “I feel pretty spoiled right about now,” I say into her hair. “I’ve never had to worry about much of anything.”

  “And yet you’re the best man I know,” she says to me. “Suffering financially doesn’t make you a good person, Colt.”

  “I’m not saying that, obviously,” I say as I sit on the bed and lift her onto my lap. “But I so admire your mom and how she was able to raise you all, despite the obvious road blocks.”

  “I do, too.” Her fingers trail down my chest. “Thank you for suggesting this place. I’m definitely glad we came. I didn’t ever plan to return.”

  “Care to tell me why?” I cup her cheek in my hand.

  Sky’s fingers stop moving, and I immediately feel her tense up.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” I murmur.

  As if she knows Sky’s looking for a distraction, Karma bursts into the room, whining loudly.

  Sky drops her head onto my shoulder and laughs. “She needs a bathroom break.”

  “I’ll go with you,” I say, giving her a quick kiss.

  As we stand up, Sky glances into the bathroom. “I completely forgot about how complicated these kinds of accommodations can be,” she says.

  “Living in a fancy-ass travel trailer for a few days?” I ask her.

  She bumps me with her shoulder. “Shut up,” she says playfully as I laugh. “I mean the details of it all: gray water, black water—ugh”—she shudders—“hook-ups. I remember my mom trying to read up on everything before we got here. Of course, we weren’t driving a motor coach or dragging a trailer; all we did was get here and move in, so that took away a lot of the learning curve. But we still had to dump. That was so gross.”

  “We aren’t going to be here long enough to have to worry much about water,” I say. “But if we do, I’m comfortable with all of that stuff, anyway. My dad showed me everything that summer. Even though we only drove here from Montana, it was still far enough to have to know what the hell you were doing.” I grab Karma’s leash. “You want to take her for a walk around the grounds before we get dinner?”

  “Definitely. She’s been cooped up in a vehicle for two days. She’ll love a walk.”

  River’s hunkered down underneath the table, and she doesn’t look like she’s going to be moving soon. Sky gives her some food and a pat, before we leave the trailer with Karma.

  We walk slowly, enjoying the evening mountain air. The path we’ve taken winds through aspen trees and enormous pines, and Karma’s going crazy trying to sniff absolutely everything in reach.

  I jerk to a stop as we enter a clearing, and Sky’s eyes fill with concern.

  “Colt? What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head to clear the memory. “Nothing.”

  “Colt.” She slips her arm around my back. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I turn us around and head back toward our trailer. “That clearing is where my dad fell down. Our last day here—he was dehydrated, and weak from all the medications coursing through his body, and he just didn’t have the strength to hike.” I swallow. “I felt so guilty because I’d dragged him out on the walk. I thought the fresh air would be good for him,
and maybe even help to heal him. I was so naïve to how sick he really was. I felt terrible about it; he banged his knee and had to lean on me to get back to our coach.”

  I know Skylar’s eyes are still on me, even though I’m facing forward and not looking at her. They’re caressing me, begging me to forgive myself. But forgiveness is something one can only do when the pain has receded enough to feel something else, and right now, in this moment, all I feel is the sting of remorse.

  We spend the rest of the walk in silence. I want to say something, but the flashbacks to being here with my parents are so strong, and my mind is filled with one memory after another.

  Mom and Dad laughing until they cried when Mom forgot to turn off the stove and the overly-sensitive fire alarm went off as the pasta water boiled over. Maintenance came screeching up to our coach like a one-car army, screaming at us to vacate the vehicle. I tried to explain that there was no fire, but the man pushed past me in a panic.

  My parents had a genuinely happy marriage, and I didn’t recognize how rare that was when I was a kid. As I’ve gotten older, and all I seem to hear about are divorces, affairs, or couples who wish they could divorce, I realize I was a lucky bastard to get to see true love up close. Right now, though, as we return to our trailer and Sky moves quietly through the living room, checking on River and setting up a bed for Karma, my throat is so tight with grief I’m having a hard time reaching for any positive feelings.

  It was ten fucking years ago.

  That’s a decade.

  So why does it still hurt so much?

  “I feel guilty every moment I’m breathing,” Sky says in a soft voice, as she takes a seat next to me on the couch.

  I whip my head in her direction. She’s watching me, her face expressionless.

  “What do you feel guilty for?” I ask hoarsely.

  “For not stopping him.”

  Our eyes lock, and the moment is so raw, I instinctively shift closer to her. She meets me halfway, and my mouth is on hers in an instant.

  My hand goes to her hair, and I wrap the red strands around my wrist as I tug her closer. She nips at my bottom lip, and I give it right back to her, rough and urgent. My tongue is all over the inside of her mouth, seeking her heat.

  Her hot hands slide underneath my shirt and up to my chest, where my heart is racing. For her. Because this is love. I know it as clearly as I know my own name.

  But I can’t say it out loud. Not yet. Sky’s expression when we were in my bed yesterday morning…I thought she was going to bolt at the very idea this might be something real. Real scares her. So I’ll keep my very real, very big feelings to myself for the time being.

  I’ll show Sky how I feel about her with my actions instead of my words.

  Our clothes come off and soon we’re in the bedroom, christening the trailer bed. I roll on a condom, and then I’m inside her. She wraps her legs around my back as my mouth moves to her nipple, and I drive inside her further. She feels so good, so fucking good. I lose myself in her heat, thrusting harder and faster. It’s intense. It’s so intense I’m shaking, and by the time my lips are back on hers, she’s calling out my name.

  I’m coming within seconds. And Sky’s right there with me.

  We hold each other for a long time afterward, and by the time she finally breaks away from me to use the bathroom, it’s pitch dark outside.

  I order us pizza from a nearby restaurant, and by the time it arrives, I’m starving.

  We sit at the table to eat, and Sky pushes the last slice toward me.

  “You eat it,” I say.

  “No way,” she insists. “I had plenty, plus all those onion rings you ordered on the side. That slice is all you.”

  I pick it up and take a huge bite.

  Sky watches me with a smile playing around her lips. “You must need to eat a lot when you’re training, huh?”

  “You have no idea,” I mumble around the pizza.

  “I think I’m getting one,” she says. “And I’m a shitty cook.”

  I swallow my bite of food, and then chuckle. “You don’t have to cook. I can, and we can also get food out. Or hire a chef.”

  Sky’s mouth drops into an “o.” “A chef?” she says like I just suggested we fly to Antarctica for all our meals. “Why would we ever do that?”

  Loving that we’re having a conversation about a potential future together, I say, “Because that’s what some people do. If we don’t like to cook, we can pay someone who does to make our meals for us.”

  She wrinkles her cute nose at me. “You and Dylan…at the party, he mentioned something to me about buying a private plane?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle. “He’s way more spoiled than I am. Because he makes even more money.”

  “The both of you need a reality check.” She smiles. “I’m not actually serious. I know how hard you worked to get here, and I’m so proud of you.”

  I go silent.

  “And you feel guilty.” Sky says the words that have been stuck in the back of my throat.

  I don’t answer her until I’ve finished off the piece of pizza. Then I say what I’ve never said aloud to anyone before, not even to my mom.

  “I know I shouldn’t. My father wanted me to be exactly where I am right now. I just wish he were here to enjoy the finish line with me. He sacrificed so much…football camps, driving me across the state for games, throwing to me late at night when he could barely keep his eyes open after a long day at work…I never imagined he’d be gone before I made it. Football was our dream. His and mine. But only I get the prize.”

  Sky reaches for my hand. “Let’s walk down to the spot where we went ten years ago.”

  * * *

  My flashlight gives off a wide arcing glow, but Sky’s hand grips mine tightly as we head down the wooded path.

  “We can wait until daylight to do this,” I say to her.

  “I really want to go there together now,” she says. “I normally despise the dark, but for some reason, walking to the creek tonight feels right.”

  As we reach the water, I point out the large boulder at the bend. “We sat there last time.”

  We take seats on the ground and lean back against the smooth boulder. We’re facing the creek, and I keep the flashlight on as I say to Sky, “I’m sorry I’ve been so knocked off. Coming to Boulder was a bad idea.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she says.

  “I’ve loved every second of traveling with you, but asking you to come here—to this place—feels like it was kind of dumb,” I say. “I wanted to get to know you better. That’s why I suggested the trip. Instead, all I’m doing is getting dragged into memories of my father and his illness.”

  “It’s been hard for me, too,” she says. “That’s why I didn’t want to stay here at first. My fear of the dark got worse after that week.”

  “How come?”

  “Because.” She pauses, and my gut sinks, because I know she’s about to tell me something awful, something that will make me want to destroy her father. “When my mom brought us here, it wasn’t really for vacation. It was an on-the-run kind of thing.”

  I stare at her. “You were on the run—from your father? That same trip when we met?”

  Sky nods, and her eyes have never looked so sad. They almost hollow out, like she’s been emptied of all joy.

  “We left Indiana when I was fourteen, and moved to Connecticut. We changed our last name, but my mom forgot she had an old joint credit card with my father, and she never had her name removed from the account. He was able to trace us. He didn’t know our new last name, because my mother had yet to make it legal. We used Rosewood informally, which turned out to be a good thing, because it didn’t show up on the credit account my father was accessing. Anyway, the detective who was involved in our case got wind of what was going on, and sent us a warning to leave for a while. My mom called my uncle in Boulder, and he set us up.”

  She reaches for my hand without looking over at me, and I hold onto her whil
e she continues talking. “I was scared, of course, but I was confident we’d be safe. My brothers have always had a lot of bravado, and they assured me they’d kill our father if he came anywhere near us. But when we got back home, our house had been ransacked. He’d been there.”

  I curse under my breath, and squeeze my eyes shut. “Skylar…”

  “My mom tried to stay so calm. The police came over, and we spent the night at a neighbor’s. Ben and Nick insisted on staying up with the police, so they could be awake if our father returned. He didn’t, but that night, I had my worst nightmare ever. I dreamed he came back to choke me to death.”

  “Honey.” I try to take her in my arms, but she holds up a finger, signaling she’s not finished.

  “We left the area the next day, and moved across the state. My mom made sure to drop any reference to her married name, or her maiden name, anything that could be traced to her former life. My father slunk away, and hasn’t come near us since. But there’s always a chance he could. And I hate admitting that I ever worry about him finding one of us, but I do. Especially now that they’ve lost track of him.”

  I blow out all the air I’ve been holding in since she started her God-awful story. “I would never have brought you to this campground if I’d known. Maybe we should check out tomorrow and go somewhere else…”

  Her finger goes to my lips, and she gently strokes my mouth. “No. I’m so glad you did this. I needed to come here on my own terms, without a predator at my back chasing me here. I needed this so much. You always know what’s best for me, even before I do.”

  She climbs into my lap, and we sit quietly, just listening to the water lap against the shore. The darkness feels like a warm blanket over us. But Sky’s gaze is flitting around like she’s looking for signs of danger.

  “Last time you and I hung out down here, there was a full moon,” I say.

  “It was so light out that night,” she says. “I still remember how clearly I could see the blue of your eyes.”

  “I memorized every curve of your body,” I say, my words coming out hoarsely. “The way your creamy skin shone in the moonlight—you were so beautiful.”