Page 54 of Colton
“Seriously. You just fucking woman-splained my life to me, Evie. You just told me that who I liked, what I liked, was wrong. Like I’m a fucking child who doesn’t know his own mind.”
She flushes at that, but straightens her back and hammers her point home. “I’m thirty-six years old, Colt. I’m a mom. I’m going to spend the next decade digging myself out of a financial hole. I have baggage.”
“I’m thirty-five years old, Evie. Single and I hate it. I’m a billionaire. I have fucking baggage too. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
As I take in her guarded expression and tight eyes, it fucking hits me. “This has nothing to do with me, does it?” I ask quietly. “This is about your shit? It’s not that I’m not good enough. You’re worriedyouaren’t.”
Her stillness and darting eyes tell me I hit the fucking nail on the head. I back up to the door again, leaning against it. No way am I going to let her run out on this conversation.
She wants to. It’s clear in the tension of her shoulders and her restless legs. I exhale, scratching my fingers through my beard, trying to figure out how to handle her. I slide down the door, raising my knees, propping my arms on them. I don’t know what the right path is, but I know one thing for sure.
“I’m not leaving this room until we deal with the shit in both our heads.”
She scowls at me, propping her hands on her hips. “You can’t fucking keep me in here, Colt.”
“I can,” I say flatly. We both know it. “But I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” I squint at her. “I’ll get up and leave now if you answer one question truthfully. Just one.”
“Fine,” she grumbles, dropping her hands.
“Do you want me?” I manage to keep my voice level and hope she can’t see how tightly I’m holding myself.
Her cheeks flush, and she groans, picking at the skin around her nail. But to her credit, she meets my eyes and answers me. “Yes.”
I blow out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. But I don’t have time to savor her answer. “If you ask me to walk out of here right now, I will. But we’ll never know what we could have been, Evie. Things can’t ever go back to the way they were. I can’t pretend I don’t want you, and I’ll never fucking forget what you just told me.”
I lower my voice, nearly pleading. “But if we sit here. If we talk…maybe we have a chance of building something new. And I really fucking want that. Please, stay. Talk with me.”
It’s a calculated risk. I warned her I was a persistent fuck, but maybe she didn’t understand what that means. Even if she kicks me out tonight, I will be on her doorstep tomorrow morning, ready to wear her down. I will use her daughter to worm my way so deeply into her life, she can’t ever imagine it without me. I will use that beautiful little girl without a goddamn second of hesitation.
She rubs at the line between her brows, then sinks down onto her bed, crossing her legs under her and resting her hands on her knees. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
I let a small smile escape. “Thank fuck.” I scoot forward on my ass until we’re only separated by a few feet. Looking up at her, I tackle our first issue. “When you think about you and I being a couple, what’s one fear that pops up?”
Her words are so soft, I hold my breath to hear better. “That people are going to see us together, and wonder what on earth you’re thinking, being with me.”
I clench my jaw, taking a few deep breaths. It’s fucking work to keep my voice calm. “Ok. What’s the next thing?”
I want to pull her into my lap and force her to look at me. But I’m going to have to give her some space, let her come to me. “That you wouldn’t actually want me if you saw me naked.”
I choke, looking at her like the crazy person she is. “Anything else?” I squeak out.
“Not at the moment.” She mutters.
“Ok. Can I address those fears? Just be totally honest?” She nods again.
“First of all, people wondering about us when we’re together…that could go both ways. People look at me and see a meathead, remember? A steroid-taking Neanderthal. It’s more likely that they’ll be wondering why you’re with me.” Her nose wrinkles. She’s not buying it. “But the fact is…I don’t give a fuck what anyone but my brothers and you think of me. I honestly don’t. If I had you on my fucking arm, I would think I’m the luckiest man on the planet, and fuck anyone who thinks differently.”
I take a breath, looking for a crack in her armor, but there is none. “Ok. Attraction. Well, I haven’t seen you naked, but I can fucking guarantee you that if you’re standing naked in front of me, I’m not leaving that fucking room until you’ve screamed my name at least four times.”
Her eyes widen, finally meeting mine, and she cracks. “Four?”
“Yep. At least.”
Her eyes go hazy, but all too quickly she gathers her doubts around her like a shield. “I’m probably going to put on more weight. I’ll have bigger love handles and a muffin top. My belly will round out again. I have stretch marks.”
“So do I.” I show her the silvery lines on the back of my arm. “Question. If I stopped working out and let myself get smaller. Maybe put on a bit of a tummy…would you decide you don’t like me anymore?”
She scowls at me. “That’s different.”
