“You’re all right with that? I implied you and I were… involved.”
He shrugs. “She cornered you and you fought back. I like that you stood up for yourself. You didn’t let her step all over you. Plus, it’s not like you lied.” Didn’t I though? We’re not really involved.
I’m just about to ask what he means when Blake’s voice interrupts me. “Can you two stop doing whatever it is you’re doing and get in the living room already?” Blake calls out. “The wings are getting cold and Kiya wants to start this movie!”
Colton and I walk into the living room, setting the popcorn on the coffee table. Kiya and Blake are sharing a couch, forcing Colton and me to do the same.
“You ready for some Channing Tatum?” Kiya asks and I join her laughing.
“Are we really watching Magic Mike?” Blake complains as Kiya chooses the movie from our library and presses play.
“You chose to intrude on girls’ night. Now you must face the consequences.”
The guys grunt their disapproval and the movie begins.
We make side comments, eat wings, and popcorn for the rest of the night. Colton gets closer to me, then starts drawing circles on my thigh, my wrist, and the side of my stomach with his index finger.
Cue the butterflies and goosebumps.
I try to focus on the movie and Channing’s gorgeous body, but it’s impossible when Colton is distracting me with his touch.
18
MIA
Zack places his pen down with an audible slap. “Do we have to do homework? It’s the weekend. The girls, booze, and parties are calling my name.”
We’re at the Football House, hiding out down in the basement. According to Colton, it’s the only part of the house yet to be contaminated by the pigs he lives with.
“Yes, Zack. We have to. It’s the last thing we have to do before the draft for the final paper is due,” I tell him, trying to encourage him.
“It’s not like you’ve been present for anything else,” Colton adds.
“It’s not like you minded,” Zack retorts and I instantly blush.
“Okay boys, settle down. We’ve gotten our sources and we’ve interviewed Zack’s parents. All we have to do is submit an outline before the final part.” Groans follow my statement and I roll my eyes.
“You say it like it’s easy,” Zack says.
“Aw, you afraid you aren’t smart enough?” I tease hoping to motivate him to do something. Although Zack is kind of flakey, I understand why now. After the semi-fight with Colton about whose parents to interview, we agreed to interview Zack’s. He put up a bit of a fight when we told him, but since he was the absentee party, he had no choice but to comply. It also helped that we told him he’d become the horrid group member no one wants because they do no work.
During the interview, I found out that Zack’s parents are factory workers who live in Massachusetts. They’ve been scraping by. Zack was a surprise for them, but from the interview, I could tell they adored him by the way they spoke about him. I can tell he loves them, too.
They told us Zack goes to visit as often as he can, and helps them out financially by working part-time at a store stacking shelves. Zack was a little embarrassed by this, and if he could have stopped his parents from telling us, he might have. But they were too proud of him not to share.
I hate to say it, but that was not what I was expecting. Serves me right for judging. I mean he’s also a cocky, red-haired, six-foot-two football player. It goes to show there’s always more to someone.
When we talked to his parents about our topic, they seemed baffled. They just couldn’t understand how a parent could betray their child in that way. They love Zack so much and couldn’t imagine hurting him. I felt a pang of jealousy; I wish I had that.
“You know I’m smart enough, babe.”
“Can we get started now?” Colton interrupts.
“Yes, sir. How do you want to split it?” I ask since he seems to be giving orders.
“We have three main focus areas, right?”
“Yes, we have the first part where we discuss what’s going on now, what the problem is and how many people it affects,” I tell him.
“We have the ‘why should you care’ part, which is pretty self-explanatory,” Colton adds, picking up where I left off.
“Yeah, and we also have the ‘how can you help?’ section, which is the solution—the whole point of this paper,” I explain.
“Okay, so the last part is basically the purpose of this whole assignment?”
“Yeah, that’s what I just said, Zack. For someone who claims to be smart, you’re falling behind.”
“I was just confirming it, sweetheart.”
“Task at hand,” Colton interrupts again.
“Yes, sir,” Zack replies with a smirk.
Colton says something under his breath, but it was so low I don’t hear it. He continues, “Let’s each choose a section and outline every point within it. Then we’ll rotate so we get to review each other’s part and make sure we don’t miss anything. That good?”
“You’re the boss,” Zack salutes him.
“Taking charge, I see,” I add, unable to help myself from adding wood to the fire. Messing with Colton is fun.
“I always take charge,” he responds in a firm, sexy voice, and it feels like the tables have turned. Now I’m the one on the spot, and I can feel the blush creeping in.
“Should I leave the room?” Zack mocks, unintentionally saving me from having to answer.
“Stay in the room for now,” Colton replies. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you to head out.” He flashes Zack a cocky smile.
I swat him on the shoulder, although I want to punch him instead for insinuating that we would need a room.
“If you ever want to share, let me know,” Zack adds, and I feel like I’m invisible again. A whole conversation about me taking place, and I’m not a party to it.
“Fuck no. I don’t share what’s mine,” Colton growls. It’s a caveman reaction, and it makes me want to be his.
“I’ll take part three,” I say, diverting the whole conversation.
“Okay, I’ll do part one. Zack, you should do part two. Not going to be hard telling people why they should care about human sex trafficking of children.”
“Will do,” Zack says, marking the end of our discussion. We all grab our computers and get to work.
“That was productive,” I say to Colton as he drives me home. This has become pretty normal—me sitting in the passenger seat of Colton’s car, music playing in the background. Twice a week, we meet up to work on the final paper. Colton insists on picking me up and dropping me off each time in addition to picking me up for coffee every morning. Tonight, the sound of raindrops crashing into the windshield accompanies the sounds of the music.
“It was. We’re almost done with it.”
“Yeah, just the writing part is left.”
“And the presentation.”
“Yes, that. How could I forget.” I shudder at the thought of standing in front of everyone.
He keeps driving and we fall into a comfortable silence. Comfortable; that’s how I feel when I’m with him.
“I told you, you don’t have to drop me off every time,” I say breaking the silence. “You also don’t have to pick me up either. I have functioning legs that could use the workout.”
“First, it’s raining. Second, your legs are perfect as they are. Trust me,” he says, and I smack his shoulder playfully.
“Third,” he says, his eyes briefly connecting with mine before returning to the road. “I will pick you up and drop you off whenever the hell I want.”
“I don’t think so, and chill it with the caveman response.” I laugh at his ridiculous statement, yet inside, I melt over how possessive he can be.
“Plus, you’re coming over to my place. When you do that, it just makes sense for me to pick you up and drop you off,” he says.
“I’ve offered up my pl
ace.” And I have, but he doesn’t take me up on it often.
“We do study at your place, but when Zack is with us, I’d rather we do it at mine.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes sense to me. Zack doesn’t need to get any ideas.”
Any ideas about what? I wonder. Maybe having Zack come to my place might make him think there’s something going on between Colton and I. Colton wouldn’t want that.
“Okay,” I say, ignoring the cracks I feel appearing in my heart.
“I’m not done.”
“That was three reasons.”
“Who cares? I have more.”
I chuckle at his enthusiasm to speak. Initially, I’d pegged him as a man of few words. “Okay, go on.”
“It’s not safe for you to walk alone so late at night. I like knowing you’re safe.”
“I can text you when I get home.”
“I would worry while I wait. This way is better. I get to witness it.”
“I can manage, Colton. It’s not your job to protect me.”
“Might not be my job, but I’ll do it anyway.”
I roll my eyes. “You do know after this assignment is submitted, I will still be walking myself to places. And I will have to be responsible for my own safety and protection.” I say it like it’s nothing, like I expect us to drift apart. But just the thought of it makes my chest hurt. I’ve been living in a bubble, and I know that soon enough, I’ll have to step out of it.
“Wow, are you saying you’re only with me for this project? I thought we were more than just a forced assignment,” he scoffs, and while I know he’s being extra dramatic, I’m relieved he isn’t thinking about discarding me the moment this assignment is out of our hands.
“Just figured you’d get sick of me, and want an out. I thought you were biding your time.”
“You haven’t been bad company, Mia. I don’t think I could get sick of you.”
“I can say the same about you.”
“So, back to my point. I don’t want you walking places at night on your own. I’ll allow it during the day if I must, but any other time, just call me. I’m only a phone call away.”
“‘Allow me’? Very funny. And what, you’ll come running to my aid? My knight in shining armor?”
“You’re no damn damsel in distress, but I won’t complain about you considering me your knight.” I smile because he has been like my knight. He’s been spending all of his free time with me. He’s always caring, stealing touches, and glances whenever he can. I can’t help but think maybe Kiya was right. Maybe Colton does care about me as more than a friend—care about me in the way I find myself caring about him.
“Thanks for the ride. I guess I appreciate not walking in the rain,” I say the moment the car pulls into the driveway.
“Like I’d ever let you do that.” He says as his hand twists the key in the ignition, shutting off the engine. We both sit in silence, neither one of us making a move or saying a thing. I guess I’m the one that’s supposed to move, but I don’t want to. So, I sit back and listen to the rain.
“I’d better go,” I eventually say, taking off my seatbelt.
“Wait,” he says, and I think he’s going to ask me to stay, or say something. Instead, he takes off his seatbelt, opens his door and comes around to my side of the car, opening the door.
“You know you didn’t have to open the door. I get it. You have manners, but it’s raining. You’re getting wet!”
Colton chuckles. “I think only you can do that.” At his words, I’m consumed with embarrassment. I can’t believe he just went there. If it weren’t for the cold rain falling down on us, he’d probably be able to feel the heat emanating from my body.
He walks me to my door, where we stand on the last step just looking at each other.
He lifts his right hand to move a wet strand of hair that has become stuck to my forehead, and places it behind my ear.
Suddenly, the rain, which had been lightly falling, begins to pick up speed. I close my eyes getting lost in the sound, the feel of the cold water, and the peace that spreads through my body.
I feel Colton get closer, and I open my eyes to find him mere inches away. I suck in a breath as he cups my face, bringing us closer still. In a matter of seconds, his lips touch mine, and my eyes close once more. His lips continue their exploration, gently at first, and then unyieldingly hard. I feel myself falling—not just physically, but emotionally too.
I open for him and his tongue snakes its way inside my mouth. His hands move from my face to my lower back as he pulls me toward him, closing whatever space was left between us. He pushes me against my front door as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands remains on my hip, while the other travels the length of my side, and settles on the side of my neck. He presses our lips closer together, holding on to me like I’m his lifeline.
My right leg moves of its own volition, hiking up towards Colton’s hips, desperate for friction. The hand that was on my hip moves, supporting my leg as he presses into me.
No thought, or dream could ever come close to how it feels having Colton’s lips on mine—to have him kiss me like this. No kiss I’ve ever experienced has ever made my heart beat faster.
A soft whimper escapes my lips, and Colton growls in response. We finally come up for air, and while breathing is good, I’d rather have his lips back on mine.
“That was…” Colton stops midsentence, and I nod in agreement. No words could describe the electricity I felt the moment our lips touched.
“Want to come inside?” I don’t want him to go—not yet. I’ve had a taste and now I need more.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he responds, and the feeling of rejection overcomes me. How could he kiss me like that, and then reject me so easily? Maybe he regrets the kiss, and now I’ve made a fool of myself by inadvertently showing him how much I liked it. I look away.
“Mia.” He lifts my chin with his finger and directs his piercing gaze at me. “I want to come inside, but I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if I did. You deserve more,” he says, but all I can think about is whether he’s telling me he’s incapable of giving me more, not that I’ve asked him to.
“So, I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty tomorrow night,” he says.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’m giving you more.” I’m a little confused. It’s probably because he kissed me silly. “I’m taking you out tomorrow,” he says.
“Out?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “On a date, Mia.”
He wants to take me out on a date?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, not waiting for me to agree. Well, I guess it’s a good thing he never asked, just stated. His lips come crashing into mine once more and I’m captivated by him, consumed by the softness of his lips and the strength of his kiss.
He pulls away again, bites his lip, and walks back to his car. I wave goodbye, open the door, and let myself into the house. My mind races, trying to make sense of tonight. I close the door, walk to the window, watch Colton’s car pull out of my driveway and disappear from sight.
I bring my index finger to my lips, feeling how swollen they are, wanting to commit tonight to memory—not that I could ever forget. I start counting the hours until his car will reappear in my driveway, and I get to see him once again.
19
COLTON
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I get into the car to go and pick up Mia. She’s letting me take her out on an actual date tonight. Not that our coffee and study dates aren’t great, but I want more time with her. Just Mia and I, no assignment and no Zack. I want more time to focus on her almond-shaped eyes, on her perfect smile, on the way she blushes when I watch her.
My phone buzzes again. I look at the caller ID, and I’m immediately consumed with rage.
“What do you want?” I spit out.
“Now there, honey, that’s not the way to greet your mother now, is it?”
“What do you want, Adaline?”
“Oh, sweetie, I’d change my tone if I were you,” she says threateningly.
I sigh, resigned to my position. “Did you need something?” I ask, changing my tone into something more neutral.
“Yes, I did. I’m throwing together a family dinner tonight. I expect you and the others to be here at eight. Don’t be late.”
She must have realized that her charade wouldn’t keep, that her image as the perfect mother would be tainted if she didn’t hold mandatory dinners. It might actually wake my father up and get him to start wondering why his kids never come to the house. It’s not like we live hours away; it’s only a fifteen-minute drive.
“I have plans.”
“You do. You have a family dinner.”
I don’t hold back the snarl. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Call the others. I’ll see you then. And Colton?” she says, “Don’t be late.”
I slam my hand on the steering wheel. In two minutes, my mother has managed to screw everything. I get out of my car, slamming the door behind me, and walk back into the house. I find the nearest coffee table and slam it against the wall. I wish it were my fists connecting with it instead but I can’t. Watching the table is a great distraction from the anger that’s brewing within me.
I grab my phone and shoot Mia a quick text, telling her I can’t make it. I call Kaitlyn and let her know we’ve been summoned. Then, I run upstairs to Nick’s room and tell him the same. Nick and Kaitlyn’s reaction, contrary to mine, is one of excitement. They’re happy to spend time as a family. They’ll take whatever crumbs our parents give them.
The idea of a family dinner sounds great to them, and like death row to me. It’s funny how most parents would be ecstatic to have their kids want to spend time with them, while mine are too distracted, too busy, too fucking deceitful to care.
I’m still tempted to punch the wall, but decide against it. I have two shots at complete freedom and one of them requires I have a decent throwing arm. That includes my ability to hold the ball with my hand. Instead, I grab a beer from the kitchen, gulping it down in one go. I hope it helps shrink the lump that has lodged itself in my throat, but I know it won’t. This is something that won’t go away until the truth is revealed.
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