“We drank all the champagne,” he told me, his smile more relaxed than I’d seen it. I laughed at his naiveté.
“You don’t celebrate with liquor! You celebrate with chocolate!” I hopped up and headed for the garage, with him fast on my heels. I went through the candy, but that wasn’t good enough. Finally, I spotted a brownie mix. “This will do,” I said, marching back to the kitchen. I mixed the brownies up and slid them into the oven before turning around to catch him licking the spoon. “Eww,” I said, my face twisted in disgust.
“Yum,” he told me, smirking, as he licked the spoon most inappropriately. I could think of better things he could be licking, but I didn’t mention it. From the look in his eyes, he had already thought them anyway. “Another thing I don’t need to share,” he murmured, looking ridiculously sexy with brownie batter on his nose.
We spent the rest of the evening playing card games and avoiding mention of either of our pasts. It felt like the day had borne enough of our secrets, and we didn’t feel the need to add anymore.
We asked each other random questions, “Like what would you be doing if you weren’t a famous football player?” To which he replied, “I’d be a lawyer.” It was a serious answer to a joking question, but I could tell he had thought about this.
He asked me, “If you could be any animal, what would it be?” To which I promptly replied, “A cat.” That generated a laugh from him before he asked, “Why a cat?”
“Cats are sexy!” I exclaimed trying to talk over his laughter. “Plus they’re badass hunters. Come on, have you ever met a cat you’d cross?” I gave him my most serious stare, the one with the cocked eyebrow and everything. He shook his head no, while trying to stifle his laughter. Obviously, he didn’t get how cool cats are.
“My turn. Worst date ever,” I asked, anticipating he’d have a good story.
“That’s easy,” he told me. “Now, I’ve had bad ones, since this one, but this was my most embarrassing date.” His smile got rueful, as he told me. “I was sixteen, I’d been dating Hannah a few months, and we’d convinced her parents to let us go on a group date. I was ecstatic. We were supposed to go to the bowling alley with a bunch of her friends, but one of the seniors on my team was throwing a party, so I took her there instead. Now, Hannah’s a preacher’s daughter. She didn’t drink or smoke, and there was lot of that going on. And not just regular smoking, you know.”
I nodded and smirked, as I said, “We are in Colorado.”
He nodded at that and continued. “I decided to show off, so I started drinking and wound up getting shitfaced. Hannah didn’t drink at all. I was trying to get her to drink, and I wanted to impress her, so I started chugging beer. Worst idea ever. The marijuana was so strong in the house, you could barely breathe. She was begging me to leave, and I could barely walk. We made it outside, where I hit the ground laughing, and I didn’t move. She was tugging on me, trying to get me up, since she had to make curfew. Finally, she grabbed my phone and called Ford, who came to get us. I was puking my guts up when he got there, and I vomited all over Hannah. He was pissed.” He paused here, looking embarrassed.
I honestly don’t remember anything past that point. Ford told me the rest, the next day at the crack of dawn, while I nursed the world’s worst hangover. He took my keys and left me there. He needed to get Hannah home, but she reeked of marijuana and vomit. He took her to his place, washed her clothes and then brought her home right at her curfew. Then he came back and got me.”
I was laughing so hard at this point. I couldn’t have heard him, even if he’d continued. “And she still dated you?” I squeezed out, between rounds of laughter.
He nodded, face red. “She did. It was not my finest moment. I don’t know why she forgave me, but she did. It’s like she could see something in me that I didn’t. I tried so hard to be good enough for her, but I messed up all the time.” His expression was vulnerable, and I thought I could see what Hannah saw in him.
“You tried. Don’t doubt that counts,” I told him honestly. “But yes, you win worst date ever,” I continued, trying to lighten the mood. “Not even the time my date brought his mom, tops that doozy of embarrassment.”
“He really brought his mom?” Colt asked, eyebrow raised skeptically.
“Yep. Granted, we were twelve and she was taking us to the skating rink,” I nodded, smirking.
“You cannot hold that against him!” he declared, fully defending my past date. I laughed at his defense and threw a pillow at him. This started an all-out pillow fight, which took all of my cunning to win, plus a few dirty tricks.
The next day, I woke up to silence. I glanced at the clock, and it was only 6:00 a.m. I wasn’t sure what woke me, until I looked out the window. The snow had finally stopped sometime during the night. I went into the living room and watched the sun rise over a silent world.
I sensed when he came up behind me. My skin was intimately aware of his presence. It prickled at his nearness. We were standing a couple of inches apart, but it felt like static electricity was arcing between us.
“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly, as the sky brightened and the sunlight inched over the snow. I nodded, staying silent. Our time was almost up. The snow plows would come soon, and I’d be on my way. The thought left me melancholy for some reason.
“Will you tell me about your mom?” he asked, not looking at me. It took me a minute to respond. I was surprised he asked. I hadn’t meant to fall apart yesterday morning when I showed him the tattoo. But it had been so long since I’d thought about her death. As a family, she’d been the pin that held us together. When we lost her, we fell apart.
“I was sixteen when she died. And out of sixteen years, I remember her death the best. She hadn’t been feeling well, but she never went to the doctor. When she finally did, the cancer was everywhere. The doctors said it wouldn’t have mattered. Ovarian cancer is notorious for being a silent killer—difficult to detect, and symptomless, until it’s too late. She died two weeks later.” I swallowed the tears, afraid if I let them fall, I wouldn’t be able to continue.
“She spent those two weeks preparing us. Trying her best to make sure we’d be okay after she was gone. Sometimes, I wanted to scream for the world to stop, to please let the Earth stop spinning for just a few minutes. I needed her. But it didn’t, and she was gone. Nothing was the same after that. I wanted to escape. I graduated and went to the college furthest away from my family and the memories.” I felt his hand wrap around mine, squeezing gently.
“We looked alike, my mom and I. Dad always said we were the spitting image of each other. He couldn’t look at me after she was gone. For months, he avoided looking at me. I understood. I couldn’t look in a mirror either,” I paused, breathing slowly, controlling the tears.
“She taught me to bake. Anytime something good happened, or bad, we baked. Always chocolate. She said it was sweet enough to celebrate and dark enough to mourn. Bad grades, bad boyfriends, chocolate was the cure. She was always right. I don’t know if it was the chocolate, or the time spent together, but it was always better after.”
“I was the baby, the dreamer. She understood me when no one else did. She always gave me space to find my way. She believed I could do anything. She was the one that encouraged me to be a writer.”
“I haven’t talked about her in years. We avoid mentioning her when we’re together as a family. I miss her,” I admitted, my voice tight and the tears I’d been holding back, finally spilling over.
Colt pulled me to him, holding me in a gentle hug, as the tears poured out of me. “I’m glad you told me about her. I wish I could’ve met the woman that gave you wings.” I cried harder at his words. It was the first time since my mom died that I felt understood. We stood like that for a long time, until my tears were finally gone. I pulled away from him, and he looked at me with a small smile.
I ducked my head, knowing my eyes were puffy and my face splotchy. I attempted to wipe my tears away, when he suddenly pulled his
shirt off. I swear he took his shirt off more than anyone I’d ever met. He used it to wipe my face. I looked at him, breathless, and not solely because his abs were two inches from my face.
He glanced away from me, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “My brother always carries a handkerchief, but I figured my shirt would do, since you’d already gotten it all wet.”
I choked out a laugh at his comment, unsure if I should be happy, or upset by his words. I went with happy, because he was shirtless and what woman wouldn’t be happy with that view?
Colt
Chapter Seven
Listening to Sophie talk about her mom put things in perspective for me. I’d wasted years being angry and bitter toward my family and even more time avoiding them, because I didn’t know how to talk to them. I couldn’t let that continue. She was right when she told me it was time. I didn’t want to have regrets. But I also realized Sophie needed to hear it too.
“Let’s eat breakfast. Then we’ll get a workout in.” I ignored her groan. “Because tomorrow is Christmas, and you’ve got to help me find presents to give to your family, if I’m going to show up unannounced.”
I caught her shocked look out of the corner of my eye. I hadn’t really decided if I was going to take her up on her offer, until that moment. Sophie’s family needed to accept her as she was, and since she’d started my conversation with Ford, I figured the least I could do was the same. I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of an awkward Christmas.
“Seriously, if you show up at Christmas dinner, that will be the highlight for my dad and brother. For my sisters, just take your shirt off and flex,” she said seriously. I wanted to believe she was joking about the shirtless thing, but I got the feeling she wasn’t. We’d leave that for later.
“That reminds me. I need to get another shirt,” I said, moving to the bedroom.
“Don’t bother on my account,” I heard her call after me.
I spun around slowly, catching her eyes, as they came back to my face. “You know if you keep suggesting I walk around shirtless, I’m going to start demanding you do the same,” I said with a wolfish grin.
She immediately flushed, but she didn’t break my stare. She reached down to grab the hem of her shirt and my heart started to race. She inched the hem up over her smooth abs, her skin milky white, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She suddenly pulled her shirt off leaving her standing there in a sports bra. I closed my eyes and chuckled.
“I had a feeling you were going to demand your pound of flesh today, so I came prepared,” she told me with a smirk. Two could play this game, I thought to myself, as I strolled back to the kitchen with nothing but my sleep pants clinging to my hips. I saw her mouth open slightly, and her eyes drifted over me. I could almost feel her eyes caressing me. I twitched slightly, as I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my groin. Down boy, you’ve known her two days. It’s not happening.
Yet, I amended with a smile.
I dragged her through a workout, this time having her lift weights. I stopped when she almost dropped a set on herself, because she missed the bar staring at my chest. I sent her to the elliptical after that, while I hit the treadmill.
We both showered, separately to my chagrin, before ransacking the house, looking for gifts.
“You know, you can just give them one of my gifts, and we’ll say it’s from you,” she told me exasperatedly after we’d gone through the house twice looking for something for her sister-in-law.
“No, I don’t want to steal one of your presents. You admitted she was hard to shop for,” I argued, once again. Her dad and brother had been easy. I had a jersey and a couple t-shirts I signed for them. Even her sister hadn’t been difficult. We found a painting in one of the bedrooms that Sophie said she’d love. I figured I’d be losing my security deposit on the place, but if it made Sophie’s family happy, it was worth it.
“She is difficult. I gave her gift cards,” Sophie admitted with a grimace. “She was always nice about anything I got her, but it never seems like it’s the perfect gift, you know?” I didn’t know, but I nodded, pretending like I did. “I always wanted to wow her, but it hasn’t happened.”
“What does she like?” I asked, frustrated, collapsing on the couch. This was why I didn’t like giving presents. Money was so much easier.
She gave me a shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re different and live so far apart, we don’t talk much.”
“What about your sister’s husband?” I asked. She’d already warned me he wasn’t a football fan, so anything I had was out. “He likes to fish. Michelle always complains about him wanting to fish every weekend.”
“Then let’s check the garage. There’s bound to be something. They have all kinds of gear stored in there.” We headed out there, Sophie snatching candy, when she thought I wasn’t looking. I reached around and pulled a piece out of her pocket without a word. She gave me a narrow glare out of the corner of her eye that I ignored.
“Jackpot,” I said, seeing a wall of fishing supplies. We grabbed some lures and other stuff that looked nice. Dude probably had all this stuff, but oh well. Now, for the sister-in-law. Why was it always the in-laws that caused trouble?
“Let’s eat,” I begged shamelessly. “I’m starving.”
“You shouldn’t be, since you ate my candy!” she told me tartly.
“Technically, it was my candy first,” I corrected, smiling.
“Mi casa su casa,” she said, waving her arm. “But yeah, let’s eat.”
By late afternoon, we could hear the snow plows on the road. I was startled by a sense of sadness, as I realized I was going to miss our time together. I’d been pissed at the thought of being trapped with her, but we’d formed a connection. Even though I’d be spending Christmas with her and her family, she’d be headed back to Georgia soon. Our lives were separate, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
We’d shared the dark places in our souls, and it created a bond. I felt its tug at the thought of watching her leave. It was the first time I’d felt this way. I didn’t know what to do with the feeling, so I ignored it.
“They’ll get the driveway tomorrow. Hopefully early, so we can make it to your family by lunch,” I told her quietly. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and I wondered if she felt regret about our time ending. “Have you heard from them?”
“Yeah, my sister texted me earlier. They all made it to the cabin before the storm. They’re expecting us,” she smirked. “Well, they’re expecting me to bring someone. I didn’t mention any names.”
“So I should expect some screaming and panty flinging?” I deadpanned.
“There’s a strong possibility,” she said seriously, nodding. I was concerned, until I saw a tiny smile on her lips. “You might want to wear an extra layer of clothes too. Just in case,” she continued, holding back a smile.
“Good to know,” I nodded seriously, as her eyes cut to me, questioning if I was in on the joke. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face, and she punched me in the arm.
“Ow, ow, ow! That freaking hurt,” she howled, holding her hand.
“Why did you punch me?” I asked her, bemused. I reached for her hand to make sure she didn’t actually hurt herself. I hadn’t really felt the punch, so it couldn’t have been that bad. “It’s your own fault for hurting yourself,” I continued, after examining her fingers.
“I know. You don’t have to rub it in!” she pouted, holding her injured hand, as I looked at her. I smiled at her, amused by this side of her. I hadn’t taken her for a wimp.
“I’m not a wimp!” she retorted, glaring at me now. I raised an eyebrow, as I said, “Recent events would prove otherwise.”
“Perhaps I need to show you how to throw a punch?” I inquired with a grin. She’d actually had proper form, but I couldn’t resist the jab.
“Maybe you don’t need to have rock hard arms,” she muttered back, through gritted teeth. I smirked, as I leaned back, crossing my arms, so the musc
les bulged. She shook her head at me muttering, “Cocky bastard.”
“What do you teach?” I asked, off subject. I wondered about her career choice, since she seemed so unhappy about it.
“English. And not even the good stuff. It’s all grammar and punctuation. You’d be surprised how many kids graduate high school without knowing how to write a proper sentence,” she ranted, her eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed. “And what they write! I swear I lose brain cells reading it.”
At this point, I risked my life to interrupt her. “What’s the good stuff?” I asked, curious. She paused, looking a little confused, since I interrupted her.
“Creative writing,” she finally said, distracted. “You know kids with talent that want to be there and learn how to improve their skills. I’d always loved writing, and teaching grammar didn’t take the place of it. I had a chance to teach a workshop on creative writing, and it was awesome.” She paused and smiled. “It’s the only time I’ve enjoyed teaching.”
“Can you teach creative writing then?” I said, asking the obvious.
“I wish. The school I teach at didn’t offer it as a semester course, and I wouldn’t be up for it anyway. More tenured teachers ahead of me,” she explained, with a wry twist of her lips.
“Can you switch schools? Go somewhere else?” I asked, curiously.
“I could. I’ve been trying to gain experience though. It’s not easy finding dream teaching jobs straight out of college,” she said realistically. “Not all of us can be first round draft picks,” she ended with a smirk.
I raised my arms over my head, flexing a bit before brushing off my sleeves and buffing my nails. I was hamming it up, and it must have worked, because she was laughing at me. Hearing her laugh satisfied me, like her laughter filled a part of me that had been empty for a long time.
The next morning, I woke up to a warm body jumping on me shouting, “Merry Christmas!” I grunted when her elbow landed on my windpipe. She was going to cause me bodily damage if I wasn’t careful.
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