Chapter Colt #2
We’re floating, riding the orgasm-induced high, and giggling into each other’s mouths like a pair of love-drunk teens making out in the truck. Over time, our kisses become softer and sweeter. Until they’re back to being cutesy, flirty pecks, just the way this entire thing started.
Only now, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Whatever this was before. Whatever we were before. It all became something so much bigger tonight. The carefully guarded ember’s now a roaring flame.
Eventually the windows aren’t so fogged up, and everything’s moving in tired slow motion. Whit clutches my shirt, using it as leverage to slip off my lap and into the middle seat. I only let my palm leave her thigh for long enough to buckle her in and shift the truck into gear.
She sighs, contented, slumping further into the seat and resting her head against my shoulder.
I kiss the top of her head. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”
“Best birthday ever,” she says through a drawn-out yawn. “I’m glad Blair talked me into going out. And I’m glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it. Get some sleep, honey.”
Taking that as a command instead of a gentle suggestion, Whit falls asleep almost instantly. Her head lolls back and forth against my shoulder on the winding highway, so I reach up and keep a firm yet tender hold on the side of her face for the entire trip back to Wells Canyon.
When we finally pull into her driveway shortly before two a.m., it feels like I have sand in my eyes. And that sand is on fire. “Whit. Honey. We’re home.”
Her eyes slowly blink to a partially open state, and she lazily paws at the drool on her cheek. She points to the wet spot on my shoulder and gives me a small smile. “Oh, God. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. It matches my jeans now.” I smooth down her bedhead and gesture at her boots on the floorboard. “Let’s get you to a proper bed.”
Together we stumble toward her front door—the air’s still warm considering the late hour, but there’s a breeze that flirts with the hem of her short dress. After a few seconds of fumbling with her keys, she turns to me. “Are you staying the night?”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it.”
Her piercing green eyes pin me in place. “Stay.”
The door swings open, and I’m stepping inside without argument. She holds tight to my arm for balance as she pulls her boots back off. The house is pitch-black and eerily quiet without Jonas around, although I’m sure the blood pounding behind my ears would drown out most noise anyway.
I trip over a pair of his sneakers in the entryway, nearly bringing us both crashing to the ground, and Whit laughs under her breath.
“Consider yourself lucky you weren’t here when there were a million toys to trip over constantly.” She tugs my arm, guiding me up the stairs, with no idea how much I would’ve loved to have met her and Jonas years sooner. “That kid used to be even messier than he is now, if you can believe it.”
After a quick detour to the hallway bathroom to clean myself up and calm my nerves, I let Whit guide me into her bedroom.
It’s small, cozy, and makes up for the minimalist style Whit seems to have adopted through the rest of her home.
It’s as if I’ve stepped directly into Whit’s brain.
All the things she hides from the outside world. Her hobbies, passions, and memories.
She heads straight for her dresser and rummages through drawers. And I take that time to peruse the pins and books and random knickknacks scattered across a desk. All the so-called naughty things she told me she couldn’t keep in the living room.
“You’re a bit of a horndog, eh?” I pick up the third cock-shaped enamel pin in a row.
Immediately dropping what she’s doing, she spins on her heel with a snarl that reminds me of a feral barn cat and a rosy blush across her cheeks. “I am not!”
“I wasn’t saying that like it’s a bad thing. In fact, it’s my second favorite thing after your insane racing simulator talent.”
She finally closes the drawer, walking toward me with balled-up clothing in her hands. Pajamas, I assume. She tosses them onto the bed. “Do you mind getting the zipper on my dress for me? I can reach it, if I really have to, but it requires nearly dislocating my shoulder.”
“Of course.” I shut my eyes for a second as she turns her back to me, trying my damnedest to screw my head on straight. My brain feels like a night sky filled with bursting fireworks. Has since the second I laid eyes on her in the bar.
Trembling, I stare at the zipper with the confusion of a toddler who has no idea how this contraption works. Make that a confused ape, based on the awkward way my curled knuckles brush her silky brown hair out of my way.
“Colt…about tonight. I…I’m sorry.” Her shaky voice gives me pause. “In your truck…on your leg…God, that was seriously crossing a line. I can’t believe I did that.”
“What did I tell you at the bar? You shouldn’t give a shit what I think.” The dress unzips a little further, so now I can see she hasn’t been wearing a bra all night. “It’s just me, Whit. You never need to feel that way with me.”
“But—well…I value our friendship.” Her shoulders roll to let the straps fall down her arms.
My breathing stalls at her words. Her creamy, freckled shoulders. The sweep of hair across the nape of her neck. The sight of her bare skin’s a nitrous oxide injection, accelerating my heart rate instantaneously.
“I value our friendship, too.” I dip my head down to push my luck with a kiss to her right shoulder.
“Colt.” The way she giggles my name is my new favorite sound in the world.
“What?” I act innocent, dragging my bottom lip along her trap muscle. “I do value our friendship. More than anything.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me. Whip me.” I kiss her shoulder once more. “Choke me.” And again. “Walk me like a dog.” And again.
She sighs, leaning back into me. “That’s…that’s not what…”
“My body’s been battered and bruised more times than I can count. I’m sure my heart can take whatever you throw at it.”
Pinching the zipper, I tug it down farther, until the only thing holding it up is the tight fabric around her hips and the straps hanging loosely around her elbows. Her hand reflexively shoots up to hold the dress against her chest.
“I don’t want Jonas to get hurt.” She looks at me over her shoulder, eyes shiny and glimmering from unshed tears.
“Me neither,” I say through gritted teeth. “I wouldn’t…Even if you and I didn’t work out. I wouldn’t stop being there when he needs me.”
Whit’s thick curtain of hair falls from its perch on her left shoulder when she shakes her head no. “That’s not your responsibility.”
No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be.
“I hate to break it to you…” The zipper hits bottom, and so does my resolve.
Slipping under the fabric, I grab her warm body and spin her to face me.
I wait until I have those pretty eyes on me before I break the news.
“Jonas and I were friends before you came into the picture. He’s my buddy.
My boy. That doesn’t stop even if you wake up and decide you’re tired of my dorky T-shirts, or you start thinking my mustache looks more like Hulk Hogan and less like Riley Green. ”
I know I said it was chill if she breaks my heart, but I’m standing here with it clocking one hundred miles per hour waiting for confirmation that we can try. If I lose her, I’m abso-fucking-lutely done for.
“I don’t know….” She licks her lips, that crease between her eyebrows deepening.
“We’ll take it slow. Won’t get Jonas involved until you feel ready.”
“I j-just…” She yawns, loud and long. “I can’t think right now.”
“Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself.” With a fragile smile of surrender, I let her slip out of reach. “Get your pajamas on. We’ve got plenty of time to talk about this after some sleep.”
My stare follows her across the lamp-lit room, where her little black dress falls to a puddle on the floor.
I choose to train my eyes on that, rather than Whit’s mostly naked body.
The way the fabric’s circled, swirling around, looks kind of like a black hole.
One time I stayed up until two a.m. on a work night binge-watching space documentaries, and some crazy guy with hair that stood straight up mentioned aliens living in black holes.
Anyway, I don’t think I retained anything except that the studio could’ve given the guy a better stylist.
“Hey, so…” Whit catches my attention right before my brain becomes a black hole. She’s wearing a pair of adorable pajama pants covered in dachshunds and an oversized black T-shirt. “Don’t get weird about this, but I bought you a shirt, if you want something to sleep in.”
“Well, I was going to sleep in my underwear, but now I’m curious.” My heart thuds.
“Again…don’t be weird.” She thrusts a balled-up gray shirt toward me.
It’s my new favorite shirt. I don’t even need to unravel it to know. It could be plain gray—though I doubt it is. If she’s gifting me clothes with the same bashful smile and rosy cheeks she has now, Whit could single-handedly convince me to swap out my entire wardrobe.
“Wait.” Okay, no, it actually is my new favorite shirt. “This is incredible.”
“I went to an estate sale a few weeks back. I was going to save it for a gift-giving holiday or special occasion.”
“This is a special occasion. I kissed you so good tonight, you felt the need to give me a gift.” I’m tugging my stupid cat shirt—every shirt is stupid compared to one that says Hootin’ and Hollerin’—over my head, eager to replace it. Within seconds, I’m also pantsless, and I give her a flirty wink.
“Oh, God. I told you not to make it weird.”
I cackle. It’s horrendous. Similar to a family of seagulls battling over a stray French fry. I chalk it up to being tired. “Weird is what I do.”
She puts her hands against my chest, walking me backward toward the door. “Yeah, I think we’re done here. No need to talk.”
“No way.” I flip the door lock and grin.
In one simple motion, I’m scooping Whit into my arms and carrying her to bed.
The sound of her laughter fills the house, and possibly the entire neighborhood.
But when we crash onto the mattress, neither of us fight it.
I curl around her, slipping a hand under her shirt to feel her warm, soft belly against my palm.
And she intertwines my other hand with hers, tucking them both under her head.
It’s where we fall asleep for what I hope is the first night of forever.