3. Colt
3
colt
She’s across the room and now I’m panicking that my hand was too sweaty or rough. Between football and crew, my hands are always hard and cut up. She’s stunning. She’s also ridiculous and silly. And so fucking cute, I just wanna scoop her up. Maggie isn’t playing a game or angling for anything. She doesn’t want to take a picture or post anything. Has no clue who my family is and doesn’t care. She only cares about this right here and now. I think we both feel something. My ex knew who I was from football, so she said, but absolutely knew who my father was before we met. I think she was prouder of being by my side than with me. I broke up with her six times. I’m also the moron who got tricked into getting back with her because I promised to take her to some dance this last time. Each time, it was my traitorous teenage dick that got back together with her.
Gemma’s hands were never this soft. Maggie’s pure and beautiful, like a soap commercial or a country music video. She’s got these little freckles and flecks in her eyes to match. They’re dark against her amber golden eyes and somehow captured me instantly. I’m a ‘fall right away’ kind of guy, but I’ve never fallen quite like a tree being felled with a chainsaw. Nothing gentle about my timber.
With Gemma, I made the wrong choices and was stuck. My dad, the Senator from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, liked her. He thought she was good for me. The Colonel, as my sisters and I refer to him, is always tossing out mandates even to us. My whole life has been about appearance and expectations. Maggie is a surprise.
Gemma thought I was cheating on her every single moment I wasn’t standing next to her. Gaslit me into staying and feeling guilty for trying to break up with her so I stayed. I didn’t want to endure the hysterics. Most of it was an act to keep me under thumb, but I had no clue for the longest time.
But she’s the one that introduced me to the joys of getting my dick sucked. It was easier to be with her. I could focus on football or school. It was fine because I didn’t have to go out and find someone else with her same enthusiasm for my cock. It was a devil you know situation. And she was experienced, and I was not. So, I learned a ton from her.
Tony and Danny pushed me nonstop to break up with her. None of the brothers are fans, but she’s pretty and can be funny. We were terrible for each other, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I hope she feels better about herself with someone else. But not me.
Robbie is in college and the oldest of us. Danny’s actual brother is taking a year off from school to keep playing junior hockey, so Danny can be here. But the five of us have been inseparable since we were little.
Maggie walks across the room getting water, and Tony plants himself in front of me with his arms crossed.
“What the hell?”
“It’s different from Gemma.”
“I see that. And if Mak is her best friend, she’s far from being like Gemma. But settle down, boy.”
I grin at the hypocrite. He’s watching Makenzie and barely looking at me as he speaks. “Nah, I don’t think I will, my liege.” I bow my head and he laughs. “I’m going to slay all the fucking dragons to be at that maiden’s side.”
Tony pats me on the head. “Good knight, you got it bad.”
I gesture with my chin across the room where the girls have huddled up. “Hey, kettle.”
He grins and says, “Yeah. Yeah. Zing goes my belt and my heart.” I laugh at my charming friend. He usually would have already screwed a girl he likes in the nearest private area, finished, and moved on. But I don’t see him moving in that direction. I shake my head at him. Danny tosses a pillow at us and points to the door. Seems we’re all a bit taken with these witches from room 666.
Tony does a rolling gesture with his wrist toward the door and says to both of us, “Gonna be an interesting semester. Viva la Paris.”
Tony glides across the room and dances up behind Makenzie. Maggie looks over at me and gives me a small smile that might as well be a billboard for a perfect moment. I fell for the first girl who looked at me, but if you’re looking into those golden eyes, who is going to be able to resist them? Her long and shiny hair is blonde and brown, the nuanced color of fall leaves when the golds and browns take over. Or like light and dark caramels lined up in a patisserie shop on the left bank. Her eyebrows arch in the most artful way. I can’t stand how fucking hot she is. She’s got these hips and curves and truly outstanding tits. I have to step away to clear my head up and possibly find my sanity.
My head’s swimming in a matter of seconds and I need to go to the bathroom to kind of calm myself down. Not just my dick, but my whole being so I don’t just look at her and say something stupid like, ‘hey why don’t we get married?’
I talk to myself in the mirror, “We’re 18 and have no plans for the world. Been in France for what an hour and a half? Yeah, I think you might be it for me. Zing to my heart, sing to my head and good Lord my cock is hard.”
I talk myself into maybe having a conversation with her first. I straighten up, remembering I should respect her a little more than my thoughts are pushing me to do. Maybe move the blood back to my brain before I head out there again.
I untuck and retuck my shirt into my jeans. I got this. I do a few jumping jacks in the bathroom. If this is a thing with her, I want to be slow about it. Gemma and I had sex the first night. I want this to be different. But then again, what if talking to her turns out to be nothing, and it’s all like pheromones or something? That makes more sense than me walking directly out of the room and going to Cartier to get her a fucking ring.
I walk back out, and Maggie’s sitting waiting for me. My whole being and world flips because she turned it upside down. But then she sees me and kind of lights up, and she’s set it right again. There’s a light behind her like a freaking angel. Come on, universe, I get it, she’s great. I sit back down and take her hand. She grins and wraps her fingers around mine, and I know I’m not alone in this.
“Hi.” I’m a moron. The only thing I can actually say is, ‘hi.’ I’m so lame.
“Are you okay?” she asks, and I smile at our beginning.
Words tumble out of my mouth without permission. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been more okay than this. Do you wanna sit on my lap?” Smooth. Way to take it slow, Colton. I scrub my hands over my face to try to erase the last four seconds.
She nods. “I can do that.” I glance around to make sure no one heard me having zero chill in this situation.
I look down and mutter, “Who am I? What is even happening?” I scoot away from her a bit and say, “Sorry. I don’t do shit like this. I swear, but you’re so pretty.” I turn away and roll my eyes at myself.
Her lilting laugh echoes through the room, and I hear everything in that laugh that could fill up someone’s endless days. My days. I want that laugh to fill all my days in Paris.
I’m fixating, and the outcome is going to be a restraining order instead of the perfect girlfriend. I have a hunch she’s perfect. But her face doesn’t say she’s feeling the same.
I shift in my seat the way my world just shifted. Tentatively and explosively. She lists her head to the side, staring at me, her hair falling over her heart-shaped face. I’m itching to know everything about her immediately. I have to look away before I tell her to start talking about herself and stop only when we have to graduate.
She looks at me, puts her finger up in the air and bites the side of her lip. Then, with that perfect giggle and a crinkled nose, she says, “I think I wanted to sit on your lap when we met in the hallway. And I don’t sit in stranger’s laps.” She makes a baseball umpire’s safe gesture. It shows she’s not a lap sitter. My heart fills like a helium balloon. Then she raises her shoulders to her ears and lets them fall quickly. “But maybe I’m a Colt lap sitter.”
I eagerly pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her, and she nestles into my chest. I’ve not even kissed her. I’ve barely touched this girl, yet this is the most at home I think I have ever felt. I was a military and political brat. We constantly moved or went to fundraisers, on trips and were traveling all the time. This is a hard way to learn that home is a person.
“Maggie, what’s your last name?”
She flips her head up to mine and looks around the room. “Are people judging? You smell like the best vacation.”
“What?”
“You smell like clean sheets and the beach.”
I seize her lips in a swift kiss, then release as she bounds off my lap. I wink and say, “Colton Hotchkiss Andrews.”
She shakes her head, then points at me as I grin up at her. “How is it possible that quick kiss was the best one of my life? We should slow this down.” She’s gesturing wildly.
“Maggie, calm down. It was just a kiss. If you don’t want me to do it again, I won’t. I’m sorry. I promise not to.”
She’s so expressive and full of emotion. “I promise you that’s not the issue. I want to do it again, but I need to study and monitor everything and Mak. And Paris, I want to see Paris, duh. I make sure it’s all good. See our room? See how we’re already unpacked and ready to go?” Her breath control is impressive.
I cross my arms over my chest and my sleeve pops up a bit. “Yes, it’s actually decorated very nicely.”
“Exactly, because that’s what I do. I make things nice, so I don’t know what to do with you because…” She leans into me and it’s adorable. She lowers her voice and I cock my head to the side to hear her better. “You’re making me think nasty thoughts, which are kind of nice thoughts too. Does that make sense?”
I turn my head, so our faces are very close but she’s still looking down. “Not only does that make sense, but it’s like we also share one brain. It’s probably the most exciting thing I could possibly tell you.” She licks her lips.
Then she jerks her body back up to standing. Her warring with her emotions and our combined lust is fucking so sexy.
“Wait, a minute. You think the most exciting thing you’ll possibly tell me is something about me wanting to kiss me. What if you don’t have anything better to tell me than that? Like maybe you saw a really pretty sunset or might have seen parts of the world that I could only dream of until I came here?” I arch an eyebrow and stare at her and her beautiful nonsense.
“You’re like one of those meerkats popping up and down and so damn cute. What are you saying, Maggie? I’m very, very confused by this. Are you nervous?”
Mak is shaking her ass in the corner with Tony. Then she leans in to say, “Hey so every once in a while, you just gotta tell Maggie to focus because she gets off on a tangent and takes herself to another place. It’s simply nerves. She’s done it forever. But she has a whole conversation with herself and forgets you’re here. You’ll get used to it.” She grins and says, “Mags.” Maggie’s eyes flit between Mak and me. “Focus.”
“Thanks.” She grins and rolls her eyes. “Colt? Really?” I laugh and haul her back into my lap where she belongs. This spitfire of confusion, beautiful weirdo who I’m probably not ever going to get over, seems incapable of being anything but authentic. Having grown up with two sets of smiles and laughs at my disposal, authentic is rare. I have one for my friends and one for the campaign and photo ops. That’s the whole of it. Maggie is rare.
She’s tossing her head back as if she’s as everything carefree I need and want in life. My whole life is planned and curated, but she makes me feel like I can be free.
“Absolutely. Everyone gravitates to you and around you. You’re one of those people that creates family wherever you go.”
“What does this have to do with you putting your tongue in my mouth?” She waggles her eyebrows, and I do as I’m told. I kiss the hell out of this really pretty, cool as hell, girl.