The Duets

by Quinn, Meghan

  I can feel myself start to cower with humiliation, and my cheeks are probably flaming red.

  “Why would you think that?”

  He turns right onto Highway 24 and heads toward Woodland Park.

  “I don’t know,” he finally answers. “You took forever to get ready and you’re wearing heels. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  “This is how I always get ready.”

  “We’re just hanging out, Ryan.”

  “So, doesn’t mean I can’t look nice.” I bite my bottom lip. What’s the big deal? “And thanks for making me feel like an idiot. Of course I know this isn’t a date, Colby. I just . . . I just wanted . . . I wanted to forget about work, about men, about the fact that my best friend just got married, and I’m not even close to that stage in my life. I wanted to take a moment to breathe, and you couldn’t even give me that. Instead you decide to humiliate me.”

  The tension in his bulky shoulders eases somewhat. “I didn’t mean to humiliate you. I didn’t want to give off the wrong impression, you know since our little run-in this morning.”

  “Believe me, I do not have, and I will not get the wrong impression here. It’s crystal clear. I'm not going to jump you because I don't have a boyfriend anymore." Does he really think that poorly of me?

  “That’s not what I meant, Ryan.”

  “Whatever, Colby. Just drive.”

  I stare out the window, hating that I’m trapped in this godforsaken car with the most unpredictably moody man on the planet. I remember the phone calls from Rory when Colby was having one of his moments. I know what he’s like, I hate that he embarrassed me in the process.

  And why is that embarrassing?

  If I really think about it, why am I embarrassed?

  Because you walked out of the bathroom looking like you’re about to throw yourself at a man.

  My mom’s voice rings through my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my arms over my exposed skin, hiding it from Colby’s view. I should have worn something different. What was I thinking?

  Letting out a long breath, I say, “I’m sorry.”

  The car slows down as we stop at a red light. Colby directs his attention toward me when he asks, “Why the hell are you sorry?”

  I shrug. “Maybe because I should have worn something more sensible.”

  “Jesus,” Colby mutters and then starts driving again only to pull off on the side of the road and put the car in park. He turns toward me and says, “Do you always apologize to guys when you weren’t the one who needed to apologize?”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  I’m usually super stubborn, but for some reason, it felt like the right thing to do with Colby. He’s a friend, and I don’t want him to think I’m acting differently because of my breakup . . . or the loneliness I feel in the pit of my stomach.

  “You don’t need to apologize.” Colby tips my chin up so I’m forced to look him in his dark, almost sinister eyes. “I’m sorry I was a dick. I’m just . . . fuck, I’m a little high-strung, okay?”

  “High-strung? How so?”

  He shakes his head and puts the car back on the road in one swift movement. “We don’t need to get into that.”

  “What do you want to get into then?”

  He pushes his hand through his hair, pulling on the short strands right before the smallest of smirks crosses his face. “Want to play a game?”

  “Ooo.” I turn my body toward him. “Color me intrigued. What did you have in mind?”

  “Twenty-one questions . . . the dirty version.”

  “Dirty version?”

  He nods. “It’s what the guys and I play over the com when we have a long flight. Keeps us awake and alert. I’ve been running out of material, so I’m hoping you can provide some new material.”

  “How does it work?”

  He smiles widely, his mood drastically changing in seconds. Hmm . . . interesting. I am actually really surprised. Colby is a very intense man, so this sudden change is a little confusing, and . . . appreciated.

  People can change.

  “I’ll start. I’ll think of something dirty and you start asking questions. In the regular version, you can ask person, place, or thing. For this version of the game, you ask person, position, or toy.”

  Oh, I freaking like this. I’m going to own him in this game.

  I rub my hands together. “Game on, Brooks.”

  * * *

  For the record, Colby Brooks is a dirty motherfucker.

  Don’t let the all-American charm fool you. He is dirty, and honestly? I’m shocked. When he said dirty, I didn’t think he meant . . . that dirty. I’m learning new terms from him and spending a little longer than I wished trying to come up with something to impress him. He’s guessed my answers in ten questions and under. How is that possible?

  “Two more questions,” he says, wiggling his fingers at me. We’re almost to the top of Pikes Peak, the drive going faster than expected. It usually takes an hour or so to drive to the top, but it’s felt like fifteen minutes at most.

  And I hate to admit it, but Colby has me stumped on this one.

  It’s a position, meant for two people but multiples can join in, and it’s one of his favorites.

  That last answer has my mind whirling.

  I tap my chin, trying not to think of a naked Colby performing sexual positions, but I have to be honest, my mind has gone there on multiple occasions. It’s hard not to after I saw him in his boxer briefs this morning, his bulge prominent.

  So prominent.

  “Uh . . . does it involve any chains?”

  “If you want it to.”

  “Gah, that’s such an infuriating answer. That gives me no hint at all.”

  He shrugs, so much confidence pouring out of him as he rounds a sharp corner of the mountain. You would think the state of Colorado would require guardrails on these roads, but nope. They send you up here and say, “Have fun.”

  “One more question.”

  At this point I’ve given up. I have no idea.

  “Can you perform it with clothes on and still get off?”

  “Can’t you perform any sexual position with clothes on? It’s called dry humping.”

  “I know what dry humping is, Colby,” I deadpan. “Just tell me the damn answer.”

  “Do you give up?”

  I toss my hands in the air out of frustration. “Yes, I give up.”

  He shakes his head and says, “Missionary. It was missionary, Ryan.”

  “What?” I shout louder than expected, all his answers floating around in my head, adding up to be exactly that, missionary. “You tricked me.”

  “How?” He chuckles.

  Feeling flustered, I say, “Because you worked me up with all your strange sex toys and positions and knowledge of porn stars that the simplest answer escaped me.”

  “It’s how you play the game. Sorry, sweetheart.”

  Did I mention I like playful Colby? He’s a good time. When he finally lets loose, lowers the military in him for a brief second and lives, he’s fun to be around.

  “Fine, my turn.”

  “Okay, do you have one?”

  “Yup.”

  “Person, position, or toy.”

  “Toy.”

  A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Does it vibrate?”

  “No.”

  “Do you hold it?”

  I think about it. “Yeah, you can.”

  “Is it peach colored?”

  “No.”

  “Gray?”

  I pause and slowly turn my head toward him as I drag out the word, “Yeeessss.”

  His smile grows. “Does it have three boobs?”

  I throw my hands in the air and then smack the dashboard. “What the hell, Colby?”

  He’s laughing hysterically now as we pull into the parking lot of the visitor’s center at the top of Pikes Peak. How the hell does he know?

  “Answer the question.”


  Grinding my teeth, I stew as I say, “Yes.”

  “Is it an Area 51 Love Doll?” He puts the car in park and turns toward me. “Come on, is it?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window opposite of him. “I hate you.”

  “Admit it.” He pokes my arm. “Just say it, say I got it right.”

  “You’re cheating.”

  “How the hell am I cheating?”

  “I don’t know.” I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Some Jedi mind trick bullshit they taught you in flight school.”

  That garners a huge belly laugh from him. I exit the car, not wanting to listen to him gloat. I straighten out my jeans and take in the uneven ground of the dirt parking area. I really am not wearing the right clothes. Not to mention it’s freezing up here. I’m acting as if this is my first time on top of a mountain.

  Rounding the front of the car, Colby locks up and then pockets his keys. “You realize flight school wasn’t anything like Star Wars, right?”

  “As if you would tell me if it was.”

  “That is true.” He rocks on his heels and takes in my outfit, this time, his eyes linger much longer than earlier. He comes up beside me and drapes his arm over my shoulder. “Let’s get you something warm to wear.” Oh God. This version of Colby—funny, dirty . . . kind—is a little lethal. Luckily I’m not going to see him after today. But seriously? Having his arm around my shoulders right now? It’s warming every inch of my body.

  * * *

  “Seriously, the best donuts ever.” I wipe the grease off my fingers and pat my belly, my sweatshirt-covered belly. Like the good man he is, Colby bought me a Pikes Peak sweatshirt, and I bought him one of the visitor center’s world-famous donuts.

  The donuts are regular cake donuts, but there must be something about the altitude that makes them so damn good because if you take them home, they’re not nearly as good as they are at the top of the mountain. It’s a tradition to get one whenever you’re at the top of Pikes Peak. Today was no exception.

  “They’re all right.”

  I’m mid-wipe when I pause and lean closer to him. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve had better.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Maybe.” He picks up a napkin and wipes the corner of my mouth with it before crumbling it up. “You had mushed-up donut on your lips.”

  “For how long?”

  “Five minutes at least.” He laughs.

  I shake my head. “And it took you this long to do something about it? Wow, great friend you are.” I gather our trash and take it to the garbage can where I deposit it, Colby hot on my heels.

  “I was hoping you’d lick it away, but every time your tongue went the opposite direction, I knew I’d have to do something.” He was watching my tongue?

  “Well, thank God you finally stepped up.”

  I lead us toward the exit with one thing in mind, the outlook.

  The sky is completely clear today, giving us the perfect view of Colorado Springs from over fourteen thousand feet.

  I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve been on the top of this mountain many times, too many times to count. And yet, no matter what, I’m still in awe when I step up to the fence of the outlook and take in the view.

  Mountain range after mountain range is below us, the peaks resembling waves, and I’m reminded how lucky I am to live here. The natural beauty of the state is incredible, and the climate is amazing.

  I wish I felt like I belonged here—like there was more for me here—instead of the constant empty feeling in my heart.

  “Hard to imagine we grew up here and never ran into each other. Any of us for that matter, and yet we’re all connected somehow.” Colby grips the fence and stares out toward the mountains, a contemplative expression on his face.

  “I know. I wonder if you and I were ever on top of this mountain together before without knowing it.”

  Growing sober, he shakes his head. “Probably not. I didn’t do a lot as a kid. I really didn’t get to the top of Pikes Peak until I was at the Academy and Stryder dragged me along with him, Hardie, and Joey.”

  Duh, I should have known that. Rory told me about Colby’s troubled childhood and the horrible pain he lived through.

  I remember what she told me so vividly, because I remember thinking, it almost felt too close to home for me.

  Instead of responding, I keep my gaze focused on the mountains. We stand there for a while, not letting any words pass through us but letting the silence speak for itself. Families and couples pass by, taking pictures, laughing, and talking about the souvenirs they bought from the shop. Mugs, T-shirts, stuffed animals, and of course, the donuts.

  It’s moments like these that I remember what a touristy town Colorado Springs is. So many tourist attractions that bring people from around the world to our city, and I don’t blame them. Looking out toward these mountains, they give you a new perspective on life, reminding you that there is so much more out there in the world than what exists in your small block radius.

  “I could stay up here all day,” I admit, pulling my hair to one side.

  “Me too. It actually reminds me of being in my jet. The calm, the peace, the scenery. It puts me at ease.”

  “Is flying everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

  “And more,” he answers quickly.

  “So you’re happy?”

  Colby and I have never been friends as such. He’s kept his distance, understandably. So, as he drapes his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in close to his side and says, “Yeah, I’m happy,” I feel a little wobbly.

  This man? I like him.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  COLBY

  “You’re right, this is so much better than eating at the restaurant.”

  Ryan is sitting on my hotel bed, wearing the skimpiest set of pajamas I’ve ever seen and is licking salsa off her fingers.

  After being asked to make our way down the mountain by the staff of Pikes Peak, we decided to stop and get some Mexican food from one of my favorite places in the Springs, Salsa Brava. I suggested we take it back to the hotel so we could watch a movie and relax.

  Why I’m hanging out with Ryan, all day, I have no clue, but I like it. She’s fun and good company. When I booked my ticket for Stryder’s wedding, I thought maybe I would spend the Sunday after their wedding with them, but boy, was I wrong. They took off for their honeymoon to Bermuda right away, which left me here in the Springs with no one to visit.

  The afternoon started off on a rough note, but thankfully Ryan spoke her mind and called me out on my shit. I would have been stewing all day, otherwise.

  I didn’t understand what was taking her so damn long in the bathroom, and when I saw her step out, looking fine as fuck, I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

  I can’t look at her that way.

  Not because she’s my ex-girlfriend’s best friend. It doesn’t matter given who my ex-girlfriend is married to now, but I know about Ryan’s dating history. It’s shit. She’s gone through man after man, never able to find someone who deserves her. They’ve all been idiots, real losers in my opinion, at least the ones I’ve known of. And although I knew there was no chance Ryan saw me as a possible new boyfriend, it still startled me how long she’d taken to get ready for our day out. I had no point of reference, and therefore jumped to the most stupid assumption: she’d made the effort for me.

  I freaked out and took it out on her, because that’s what I do.

  I’m not as emotionally stable as I wish I was. It’s something I’m aware of and something I’m working on.

  But now we’re back in my hotel room and Ryan is comfortable in her little pajama set, I’m starting to think this was a bad idea again. I don’t think she’s going to do anything, but I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off her body.

  I really need to fuck when I get home. Bent and the boys go out every weekend, and I’m going to follow their lead and find someone to hook up with, because I’m fuc
king hard up right now. Talk about blue balls.

  Ryan pops open a takeout box and stares at her quesadilla. “There is no way I’ll be able to eat all of this.”

  I pull a slice from her box and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

  “Hey, I didn’t even get a chance to take a bite.”

  “Call it payback for stealing my steak last night.”

  She chuckles. “I didn’t steal it. You were sharing.”

  “Funny thing about sharing. The person sharing actually has to want to participate in the sharing in order for it to be considered sharing.”

  “You said sharing way too many times.”

  “To prove a point.”

  I scoop a chip full of salsa and plop it in my mouth right before I open my to-go box of steak enchiladas. “I can’t remember the last time I had Salsa Brava. I might embarrass myself as I devour all of this.”

  “Have at it. Who am I to stop a man from making love to his enchiladas?”

  I pat her knee, her soft knee, and say, “You’re a good woman.”

  “What kind of food do you have out there in Las Vegas?”

  “Me personally, or the state?”

  She takes a big bite of quesadilla and talks with her mouth full. “Both.”

  I wipe my mouth with my napkin and say, “Well, normally I eat proteins and vegetables. I’m pretty damn good at grilling. Granted, Bent had to teach me, but I picked it up quickly.”

  “Bent is in your squadron, right?”

  I nod. “Squadron leader. I would say he’s my closest friend there. Colt and Rowdy are loud and obnoxious, where we’re more reserved.”

  “Bent, is that his real name?”

  “Call sign.”

  She nods. “It’s hot. What’s your call sign?”

  “Flyer.”

  “Let me guess, because you’ve always wanted to fly?”

  I take another bite of my enchiladas and smile. “Yep.”

  “It’s a shame no one gave you a ridiculous name like Tea Bag.” She presses her hand against her ear and says in a deep voice, “Tea Bag, coming in. This is Tea Bag, round up all the hot water you can find because I’m ready to steep.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me and takes a sip from her water bottle.