“You don’t have to—tell me that is. I can tell you about mine, and if you want to, if you feel comfortable, if you trust me, you can talk to me.”
I look him in the eyes, my right hand finding its way to his jaw, my eyes connecting with his. I want him to feel the sincerity of my words. His eyes go back to that beautiful gray that makes my heart flutter. He sighs, his body relaxing, and I can see the wall disappear.
“I’m sorry for acting like a jerk,” he says. “I’d love to know more about you. I promise I’m not always a dick.”
I notice my left hand is on his chest, while my right is still caressing his face. I pull away immediately.
“I’m sure you’ll do it again, but don’t expect me to stand here and take it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll work on it,” he murmurs.
“Shouldn’t you be heading in the direction of your car?” I ask, remembering that we drove here.
“I’ll get it later. Unless you’d rather I drive you hom—”
“I’d like to walk,” I answer feeling like it’ll help take away some of the awkwardness between us.
We walk to my house in silence, enjoying each other’s company. As soon as we hit the front door, I turn to say goodnight, but he blind-sides me by saying, “Can I come in? I’d like to hear about your parents.” His voice is tender, his usual confidence gone. As much as it petrifies me to share this with him, a part of me knows that I have to, that I want to.
I nod, open the door, and he follows me inside.
“What do you think?” I open my arms, and do a weird motion to display my apartment which I immediately regret.
“This place is amazing! Is that a piano?” Colton says as he walks into the living room.
“Nope, that is a bicycle,” I respond catching up to him.
“Sarcasm suits you, Collins. You play?” He presses a few keys offbeat.
“I love board games.”
“The piano, woman! Do you play the piano?” he asks as he sits on the bench.
“Yeah, sometimes,” I respond while watching him look like he belongs here.
“Could you play for me?” He asks with hopeful eyes. There’s no semblance of the Colton from the library.
“One thing at a time, young one.”
“You are weird,” he says, getting up and walking around.
“I know, thanks.”
“Should I be afraid?”
“Yes. Be very afraid,” I say jokingly. But really the one that should be afraid is me. Afraid that I’m letting him in only to be hurt by him.
“Got it,” he says, nodding. A smile appears on his face, and oh what it does to me.
“Want anything to drink?”
“Do you have any beer?”
“We only have tequila and rum.” Courtesy of Kiya.
“Seriously, you have tequila but no beer?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Kiya likes tequila, I like rum. It’s just how we do.”
“It’s how you end up with an insane hangover.”
“You would know.” I wink and he laughs.
“It’s also how you end up sleeping in another person’s bed.”
“Yeah, luckily for me the guy wasn’t a complete douche and decided to sleep in a different room.”
“Said who?”
“Said Kiya. Thank you for that, by the way. But also, you suck for making me freak out. I legit thought I had slept in the same room as you.”
“Jeez, Mia. You don’t have to say it like it would be repugnant for us to share the same air.”
“We’re sharing the same air right now, and trust me it’s not that great,” I tease, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge and handing him one.
“You let me in. You can’t mind my presence too much.” He opens his water, taking a sip. “Where’s Kiya?” he asks changing the subject.
“She has class till late, then study group, I think.”
“We’re on our own?”
“Yes,” I respond while taking a seat on the couch. Colton joins me, taking the seat next to me.
“Are you ready to listen?” I ask, wanting to get it over with. I don’t want to prolong the inevitable.
“I’m always ready to listen to anything you’ve got to say.”
I take a deep breath and begin recounting the story. “Well, my mom died in a car accident about a year ago.”
“I’m so sor—”
“And before you say you’re sorry, let me warn you, I don’t want your pity. I’ve dealt with it. I’ve moved on. Apologies are not necessary. You didn’t hurt me.”
Not yet anyway, the voice inside my head chimes in.
“Okay, I’m so—” He catches himself mid-apology. “I understand.”
I tell him all about how my father became addicted to gambling, then turned to alcohol. I tell him how my parents began to fight every night and how my mother got struck by a driver that had run a red light at an intersection while she was on her way to pick up my drunk father from his favorite bar. Colton doesn’t say anything. He just nods and listens, and I appreciate him for it. The fact that I can talk about it with such ease is a sign that I’m actually moving on, or at least I think that’s what a psychologist would say.
“My dad couldn’t take the guilt, I guess, so after losing mom, he left.”
Colton’s hand lands on my shoulder—not in a sexual way, but in a comforting and supporting one. It’s like he really understands and wants to give me strength. I finish my story, ready to never relive it again. Although I’m moving forward, the memories still hold a lot of pain.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says after I’ve finished.
“Now you know why we can’t interview my parents.”
“We can’t interview mine either. I have my reasons, and I’ll share them with you, but only when I’m ready.”
“Okay. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
“Thank you,” he says.
And I know he means it. This right here, this is what I was afraid of. We’re both comfortable with each other, trusting each other, and it feels like we’re moving past just being friends. It’s not getting close to him that I’m afraid of. It’s what happens after.
“Okay, story time over. Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask. I don’t want the night to end. I’m not ready for him to leave.
“Sure. Your pick though,” he says, kicking off his shoes and laying his head on my lap. Although this proximity and level of comfort should make me run for the hills, it doesn’t – it feels…right. I grab the remote from the table, search through the movies we’ve purchased and find one of the Fast and Furious movies. There really is nothing like Paul Walker, Vin Diesel, cars, and speed to end a rollercoaster of a night.
“You’re perfect,” I think I hear him say.
“What?” I ask.
“Perfect, I said. Great movie choice.”
MIA
I’m startled awake when a bright light hits my eyes.
“Well, well, well.”
Confusion kicks in when I see Kiya staring down at me with a big ass smile on her face.
I try to sit up, but the weight of Colton’s arm around my stomach stops me.
How did we even end up in this position?
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, you know, walking in to find you cuddling on the couch with the hottest guy on campus.”
“Keep it down,” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder to check he hasn’t woken up. “We fell asleep watching a movie.” I point to the TV, which is off.
Traitor.
“Yup, that’s it. Lucky for me, I got a picture,” she teases.
“Kiya! You know we didn’t do anything else. You need to erase that photo. Now.”
“Anyway, I’m exhausted and I don’t want to interrupt the lovers.”
“We’re not lovers! Erase the photo, Kiya!” I look out the window, seeing the streetlights are still on outside. “What time is it?” I ask
.
“It’s 2 a.m.”
“What the heck were you doing out so late?”
“Not watching a movie with Blake.”
“Gross!” I finally manage to free myself from Colton and get up from the couch. “When did you decide to give him a chance?”
“When he asked me to be his girl,” she answers casually, like it’s no big deal. Kiya points at Colton’s massive body. “What are you going to do about him?”
I run my eyes over him. He’s so large he doesn’t fit on the couch. I don’t even know how the two of us managed to sleep there.
“Just let him sleep. He’s got to be at the gym in about three hours, and you and I will have a talk about Blake in the morning,” I say, giving her my best ‘I mean business look’.
She gives me a sly grin. “You know an awful lot about his schedule.”
“We have class together. We’re also working on a project together.”
“That’s all? He seems to be investing an awful lot of time into this project. It must be very important.”
“That’s all. Trust me.”
Kiya’s teasing expression disappears. “Is that all you want it to be?”
I look back at Colton’s sleeping figure. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It might.”
“It won’t.” I grab one of the blankets we keep under the coffee table and cover Colton. Kiya, seeing that the conversation isn’t going anywhere, calls it a night.
I contemplate laying back down with Colton. He looks so peaceful. I think for a moment about what the two of us would be like together. I don’t allow myself to linger though. No point in daydreaming about something that won’t ever happen.
I head to my room, set my alarm for four-thirty and fight to quiet my mind so I can get some sleep.
16
COLTON
After my ethics class, I hit the gym for a couple of hours before heading over to the cafeteria to meet up with the guys. We try to eat at least one meal a day together. It’s become a sort of mandatory ritual; Coach thinks it’ll help us come together and feel like a family.
I sit down at the table and pick at my food, which is crap by the way, but the dietician controls everything we eat during the season. The guys are talking about the upcoming game. As we get closer to the end of the regular season, the pressure to win every game increases. The practices have become more frequent, and we’re constantly working on our offense and defense line. We spend hours watching the tapes, and on top of that, we have to haul ass to make sure we don’t fall behind academically.
This year, like the last, I’m determined to win.
It’s crazy how great we were last year. Our team was the strongest it’s ever been. We were legendary, and everyone is expecting the same this year, too. So far, we’re delivering, but having most of the star players graduate wasn’t the best way to start. Some fans blame the change in leadership, blame me for the shaky start and for playing too many close games, despite the fact that we’ve won them all.
“So, after every win, we throw a party,” Zack says, bringing me back to the conversation.
“Seriously dude, we’re going to be exhausted,” Chase responds. A few of the guys nod in agreement.
“Nah, Zack’s right. This is the motivation we need,” Nick says. Of course my brother would support the idea of throwing a party.
“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I add, doing my due diligence even though I know they won’t listen.
“What? Is your girl going to be mad that you’re throwing parties and jersey chasers will be hanging all over you?” Matt, one of our kickers, asks.
“His girl wouldn’t mind,” Blake says, trying to help.
“Not his girl,” Chase adds.
Like I need a reminder.
Zack winks. “Not yet.”
When did my personal life become a topic of conversation?
“You guys will hate yourselves after every game. Trust me, if you play right, you’ll be exhausted when you’re done,” I throw in, not bothering to respond to the comments about Mia. Maybe I should stop spending so much time with her. I dismiss the idea immediately. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can help it.
“We’ll play hard and party hard,” Nick says from the other side of the table.
“Are we partying?” Kaitlyn asks from behind Nick. She’s followed by Abbigail and her posse.
“Always, as long as you’re there,” Shane, a red-shirt freshman says to Kaitlyn. My eyes snap to him, and his widen in understanding. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chase giving me the ‘calm down’ look.
All the girls find a seat with Kaitlyn taking her place next to Nick, and Abbigail sitting across the table from me.
“Okay, so it’s settled—a party after every win,” Zack says.
“After every game, because we’re going to keep winning every game,” Blake corrects.
“We’ll throw a party at the house,” Zack finishes, staring at me for confirmation.
“Whatever,” I concede, but add, “I’m not going to help organize, or clean shit up.”
“Not a problem, man, but you do need to be there.”
“Yeah, wherever Hunter is, the ladies follow,” Ian, a wide receiver, adds looking at Abbigail. Abbigail, who I feel is staring a hole through me while I do my best to ignore her.
I’m about to respond to Ian when I see Mia enter the dining hall.
“Fine, I’ll be there,” I say so they leave me alone. I don’t want them to realize all my attention is on one person right now, on this one girl—scratch that—one woman. You would think that after seeing her in class yesterday, sleeping at her house last weekend while holding her in my arms, going to the gym with her, and having coffee with her every day this week, that I’d have had enough. Even seeing her tomorrow doesn’t stop me from missing her whenever she’s not around.
I tune out of the rest of the conversation though I pretend to listen. The guys are so into their discussion that they don’t notice my attention is focused on the beautiful woman. I see her grab a burger and fries along with a drink. She stops, holding her tray in front of her, and looks around. Her eyes connect with someone across the room, then she smiles and waves. My head turns faster than lightning to see who put that smile on her face. Relief swarms me, jealousy leaving just as quickly, when I see it’s Kiya waving back at Mia.
I turn back when I feel a foot ride up my leg, and I immediately glare at Abbigail. She clearly doesn’t get that I want nothing to do with her. She’s looking at me with a coy smile. Since she’s still clueless, I’ll do something that will make her understand. I shoot Blake a look and set everything in motion.
MIA
“Ugh, today sucked,” I say the moment my tray hits the table.
“I bet my day was worse,” Kiya challenges.
“That would suck for the both of us. Can we have a girl’s night tonight to make it better?”
“Channing Tatum and Oreo shakes?”
That sounds heavenly. “You know me so well.”
“It’s what I do. Tell me what happened?”
“Long story. How much time you got?”
“Oh, shit, incoming.”
“What—” Before I finish my question, I feel a hand land on my shoulder and a tray is placed next to mine. I don’t have to ask who it is because my body already knows. I can feel it in the way my skin reacts to his touch. I can feel it in the tightening of my stomach.
Colton takes a seat next to me, and Blake sits next to Kiya. She looks at me, her eyes filled with a combination of shock and excitement. I don’t even want to know what my face looks like right now.
Blake throws his arm around Kiya, and her face lights up. She may deny it, but she’s falling for Blake. I can tell. And the way he looks at her shows he feels the same way. There’s a long pause around the table, probably due to the unexpectedness of the guys joining us. Kiya, having more cojones than all of us combined, is the first to speak.
“What are guys like you doing in a place like this?”
I burst out laughing. My best friend is literally perfect. Blake follows my lead, and I can hear Colton chuckle.
“But seriously, what brings you here? Tired of hanging in the kingdom with the rest of the royals?” She points at the table filled with a bunch of larger-than-life guys, some even I recognize. I also notice Colton’s sister is sitting there, and next to her is Abbigail, who is staring at us with something I can only label as disgust. Guess she won’t be making her way to this table anytime soon.
I turn back and say, “Seems like you’re already missed.”
“That’s all Hunter’s,” Blake says and my stomach drops with the reminder that she was once his.
“Not mine,” Colton growls and I feel my knees buckle. If I weren’t sitting down I’d likely do a repeat of the second day in class.
“Okay, okay. So, you guys are escaping the jersey chasers at your table then?” Kiya asks.
“Baby, you know I don’t need an incentive to come to you,” Blake says flirtatiously, pulling her in closer to his side.
She rolls her eyes, shoving him away gently. “Because you sit with me every day,” she adds sarcastically.
“You never come to the dining room,” he retorts and its true. Kiya apparently hates the dining room, and only came today because I texted her to meet me here for lunch. I wanted to tell her about how I got into a debate with my philosophy professor. In retrospect, it could have waited, but I feel like I barely see her anymore. Class, homework, study groups, and Blake have kept her busy and me ordering food.
“True, I’ll give you that.” She smiles and I’m a little jealous of their banter. Jealous of what they have, what they are, and what they can become. But I’m also extremely happy for Kiya. She deserves this and more.
“You don’t come here often either,” Colton says to me softly.
I give him a sideways glance. “I’ve met you here for lunch before,” I remind him and add “For all you know, I come here all the time.”
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