Page 62 of Colton
I let myself press my lips to his temple. “I’ve been wanting to touch you for a while. Maybe since the day I met you.”
He’s so still, if it weren’t for his rapid breaths, he could be carved in stone.
“More,” he orders gruffly.
“More…?”
“More everything. More words, and for fuck’s sake, more touches. I’ve been starved for you, Evie. I need it.”
“You mean like this?” I ask, mirroring his actions, running my nose down his cheek. His low groan is answer enough. His close-cropped hair tickles my face. I enjoy the prickly feel of it, and the contrast of his silky soft beard. I didn’t think I liked beards, they always seemed scraggly and scratchy to me. But Colton’s? It’s so not. It’s soft and smells like mint, and I really want to feel it running along my skin.
I turn in his arms, bringing my hands to rest on his ribs. He stays curled over, letting me line my face up with his. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”
“Neither do I, Evie. So maybe we come up with a plan. Make sure we don’t?”
I smile, brushing my lips at the corner of his mouth. “I like that idea. Maybe we need to set up some rules. Like, if one of us is freaking out, we talk about it?”
He clears his throat, crowding me until my back is against the railing. “Agreed. Talking is important. You have to tell me when you get in your head, Evie. I can’t fight something I can’t see. And I will fight for you. I promise you that.”
Tears prick my eyes. “It seems really soon for you to be saying stuff like that. It’s only our first date.”
He pulls back slightly to look at me. “I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, Evie. And you’re the one who has the power to push me over or pull me back.”
My stomach drops. “That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
He winces, but nods. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s not as life and death as it sounds. I just mean that you have all the power here. And it feels like my entire future is riding on you. I know I should play it cool, keep things more casual, give you time to get on board with this, but I don’t think I have it in me to play that game with you. I want this, I want you, too much. These feelings aren’t new for me, but I get that we’re coming from different places on this.”
I let the threads of panic run through me, let the fears run through me again. Their refrain is familiar and so exhausting. “This, us dating, is putting me off balance, Colt. I was finding my feet here, getting into a familiar rhythm. The person I was before all this? Before Brent and adopting Mia? She would have had the confidence to go after you from day one.” I let a hint of the old me out to play, giving him a sultry smile. “You wouldn’t have known what hit you.”
I soak in the way his eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bobs. The way the air charges between us.
“I wish I could just get her back sometimes. Get back the confidence and ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude. And I sometimes forget that I’m not her anymore. Then you touch me or say those incredible things and it becomes crystal clear to me how much confidence I’ve lost.”
Colt’s enormous chest deflates with his heavy exhale. Those muscular arms come up, wrapping around me, hugging me in a way I’ve never been hugged before. He holds me like I’m precious to him, like I’m important. It’s the way I always imagined a boyfriend would hold me. Like he never wants to let go.
“I wish I could fix that for you. Just snap my fingers and make it go away.” He pauses, his tone turning harsh. “Better yet, snap Brent’s fingers.”
I nod, sliding my arms from his ribs up his back, pressing my hands against his shoulder blades. “I wish I could kick him in the balls,” I mutter, letting my head fall onto his shoulder.
“I’d hold him for you, love.” He says, making me laugh. His arms tighten around me, and an involuntary squeak of pain escapes me.
He freezes, slowly unwrapping himself from around me. I make a sound of protest, but he doesn’t stop.
“I hurt you.” His hand is hovering near my shoulder, and I catch a slight tremble.
“No. Colt, it’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Bullshit Evie. I hurt you.”
I groan, rubbing my eyes. “It wasn’t you. My ribs are bruised, and you just squeezed me right there. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m fine.”
I’ve lived on the east side of the country my whole life, so I’ve never been in an earthquake. But I imagine it must feel exactly like this. Like the low rumble of sound coming out of Colt’s mouth. Every word making the space around us shudder.
“What thefuckhappened to your ribs, Evie?”
26
COLTON
