Chapter 30
HALLIE
Icould feel his restraint. The way he was forcing himself to go slow and savor every moment. It made me want to break that control, make him lose himself the way I was losing myself.
I arched into him, my hands sliding down his back to grip his hips, pulling him closer. “Do you always have to be in control?” I murmured against his ear.
“I do.”
“No. You. Don’t. Let go. Fuck me, Colt. I want it all.”
He groaned, and I felt the last of his restraint snap. His mouth was everywhere. My neck, my breasts, trailing down my stomach. When he hooked his fingers in my underwear and pulled them down, I lifted my hips to help him. The cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with desire.
Before I could respond, his mouth was on me, and coherent thought became impossible.
I gasped, my hands flying to his hair, holding him there while pleasure rolled through me in waves. He knew exactly what he was doing, alternating between gentle and demanding, building me up until I was trembling.
“Colt,” I managed. “I need—”
“I know what you need.”
He added his fingers, and the combination was devastating. I felt myself spiraling, climbing higher and higher until I shattered, crying out his name.
He didn’t give me time to recover. He kissed his way back up my body while I was still shaking.
“Please,” I whispered.
I told him I wouldn’t beg, but I couldn’t help myself. I was certain I would implode if I didn’t get him inside me.
He reached for the nightstand, fumbling for a condom. I helped him put it on, my hands shaking with need. When he finally pushed inside me, we both groaned.
“God, Hallie,” he breathed, his forehead resting against mine. “You feel incredible. I don’t understand.”
“Understand?” I murmured. My brain was saturated with ecstasy.
“You. Me. Why does it feel so good? I swear your body was made for me.”
I couldn’t form words. Could only feel him filling me, stretching me, completing me in a way that felt right. Perfect.
He started moving, slow and deep, his eyes locked on mine. This time was different. Intimate in a way that terrified me. Because this felt like making love.
And that changed everything.
I pushed the thought away and focused on the sensation. On the way he felt inside me. It felt so right. He was right about my body being made for him. And he was made for me. My limited sexual experience didn’t even come close to the way he made me feel.
“Harder,” I said, needing to break the tenderness before it broke me.
He obliged, picking up the pace, driving into me with more force. I met him thrust for thrust, my nails digging into his shoulders, my breath coming in gasps.
The headboard bounced against the wall.
Thump.
“More.”
Thump.
“Harder.”
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take what you need from me.”
I did. I took everything he gave me and demanded more. We moved together like we’d been doing this for years instead of once before. I bucked, knocking him off his game for a few seconds.
He looked concerned. “What’s wrong? Too much?”
I smiled. “Get on your back.”
I climbed over him and sank down.
We both groaned. I squeezed my eyes closed and reveled in the feel of him.
I started to move. My hips rolled, taking him deep before I slid back. His hands moved to my hips. He held on tight, setting the pace even though I was on top.
I leaned forward, my breasts hanging over his face as I held on to the headboard. I rode him hard and fast.
“Hallie,” he gasped.
“Yes!” I cried out and moved faster.
My release was explosive. It stole my breath away. I completely froze, my head back as I stared up at the ceiling.
I didn’t even remember it happening, but I found myself on my back with him climbing out of bed and going into the bathroom.
He came back to bed and pulled me against him. I went willingly, tucking myself into his side like I belonged there.
“So much for professional,” I said, my voice slightly muffled against his chest.
I felt him laugh. “Yeah. That lasted all of five hours.”
“We’re terrible at boundaries.”
“The worst.”
I traced patterns on his chest, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “What are we doing, Colt?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to stop.”
“Me neither.”
And that was the truth.
I didn’t want to stop.
Because somewhere along the way, between the fake engagement and the real kisses, between the performances and the quiet moments, I’d started falling for him.
Really falling.
“Stay,” he said quietly. “Don’t go home tonight.”
I should have said no. Should have protected myself. Should have remembered why I’d agreed to this arrangement in the first place.
But I couldn’t.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll stay.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and I felt his body relax against mine.
I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly return to normal. His other arm was wrapped around me, holding me close like he was afraid I would disappear.
“Colt,” I whispered into the darkness.
“Hmm?”
“I have to tell you something.”
He shifted, sliding one hand under his head to prop himself up slightly. His bicep flexed with the movement. I forced myself to focus. I was about to drool. Or maybe I already was.
I needed to say this while I still had the courage.
He looked down at me with concern in his expression. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath. “We’ve met before. A long time ago.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean before the gala. Before all of this.” I sat up slightly, pulling the sheet around myself. “In high school, actually.”
His expression shifted from confusion to surprise. “High school? What are you talking about?”
“I recognized you at the gala that first night. When I was with John.” The words tumbled out faster now. “But you didn’t recognize me. It’s been over ten years, and I looked completely different back then.”
“Different how?”
“I used to dye my hair blonde. Trying to fit in, you know? And I wore all these terrible bootcut jeans with layered shirts and low necklines. Too much makeup. I was…” I trailed off. “I was trying really hard to be someone I wasn’t.”
Colt was staring at me. I could see his mind working, trying to place me in his memories.
Then his eyes went wide.
“No way,” he breathed. “You’re Janie.”
I winced at the nickname. “I don’t go by that anymore.”
“The short girl with the big tits.”
I punched him in the shoulder. Hard. “Shut up. But yes, that was me.”
He laughed, the sound genuine and a little awed. “Holy shit. Small world.”
“Very small world.”
He settled back against the pillows, pulling me with him so I was tucked against his side again. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You really do look different.”
“I know.” I traced circles on his chest, needing something to do with my hands. “Natural hair color. Lost some weight. Learned how to dress for my actual body instead of trying to hide it.”
“You look incredible. But I bet you looked great then too.”
The compliment warmed me, but my stomach was churning. Because I’d told him part of the truth, but not all of it. Not the part that mattered most.
But the words stuck in my throat.
“Oh, fuck me,” Colt said suddenly.
I looked up. “What?”
His expression had changed, guilt flooding his features. “The beach. That summer before I left for college. I asked you to meet me there and then—”
“You never showed up,” I finished quietly.
“Hallie.” He sat up fully now, running both hands through his hair. “Shit. I was such an ass.”
I couldn’t believe he remembered. All this time, I’d thought I was forgettable. That the whole thing had been so insignificant to him that it hadn’t even registered.
But he remembered.
“Why?” The question that had burned in me for ten years finally came out. “Why did you ask me to meet you if you had no intention of showing up?”
“I did intend to show up,” he said quickly. “I swear, Hallie. I was going to be there.”
“Then what happened?”
He sighed, and the sound was heavy with regret.
“My buddies came over. They were heading to some tailgate party at the college. Said there would be college girls there. Beer. The whole scene.” He looked at me, his expression miserable.
“I was seventeen and stupid. They convinced me to go with them instead.”
“So you just… forgot about me?”
“No. I didn’t forget.” He shook his head. “I thought about texting you, but I was already at the party, already drinking. I told myself I’d make it up to you later. That it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was a big deal to me,” I whispered.
“I know that now. Fuck, Hallie, I’m so sorry.” He reached for my hand. “I wish I had a better answer. I wish I could say something came up, some emergency, anything other than the truth. But the truth is I was selfish. I chose a party over you, and that was shitty.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. Not because I was sad—though part of me was—but because after all these years, I finally had an answer. He hadn’t stood me up because there was something wrong with me. He’d done it because he was a stupid teenager who made a stupid choice.
“Thank you,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “For being honest.”
“Hey.” His expression grew alarmed when he saw my tears. “Shit. What’s wrong? Don’t cry.”
“I’m not.” I laughed through the tears. “Okay, I am crying. But it’s not all bad.”
“Tell me.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
The words spilled out. About how much it had hurt that night. About sitting on the beach for hours, waiting, hoping. About the humiliation when I’d finally given up and gone home. About how my friends had made fun of me for thinking someone like him could ever be interested in someone like me.
“Everyone kept saying I was delusional,” I said, my voice breaking. “That of course you didn’t show up. Why would Colt Jesson want to hang out with Hallie Bellrose? I was just some girl with a stupid crush, and you were you.” I gestured vaguely.
His expression crumbled as he realized how badly he’d hurt me. How that one thoughtless decision had affected me for years.
“Hallie,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know—”
“No, you don’t understand.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. “I wish I could take it back. I wish I could go back to that night and choose differently. Choose you instead of that stupid party.”
I clung to him, my face pressed against his chest, and let myself cry. Really cry. For the seventeen-year-old girl who’d felt so small and worthless. For the years of insecurity that had followed. For the anger I’d carried for so long.
“I forgive you,” I whispered against his skin.
He pulled back to look at me, his eyes suspiciously bright. “You do?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You were a kid. We both were. And you were honest with me just now. That means something.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Maybe not. But you have it anyway.”
We lay holding each other in the dark. And then something shifted inside me. Like the sharp, jagged pieces of my heart were finally smoothing out.
Healing.
I should tell him the rest. About how I’d signed the contract planning to break his heart.
But I wouldn’t. That plan felt like it belonged to a different person. Someone who was still angry and hurt and looking for justice in all the wrong places.
The Hallie in Colt’s arms right now? She just wanted to stay here. To keep feeling this connection. To see where this thing between us could go.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“For what?”
“For remembering.”
I turned my head up and kissed him.
He kissed me back, tender and sweet, and when we finally pulled apart, he kissed each cheek.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
I did. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. It felt too good to be in his arms.