Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I’ve never looked for Colton online before tonight. But now, in the sanctum of my room, I scroll. And I can’t believe what I see.
Colton, surrounded by beautiful women in low-cut dresses that probably cost more than my college education.
Colton, head thrown back in laughter, champagne pouring down his cheeks.
A blurred, naked picture of Colton in bed with a woman. Something hot and uncomfortable roils in my stomach.
Scandal, a headline reads. Detrimental to his stepfather, who runs Cavanaugh Freight.
What the fuck?
I had no idea he had such a following, that people cared about his comings and goings this much.
But apparently, he’s semi-famous. Suddenly, those naked pictures of me on his phone make me incredibly nervous. What if someone hacks it and they come out?
What if people see what I’ve been reduced to?
He said it would be fine.
But what if it’s not? I’ve always said I’m straight, or at least presented as such, until him. Until Colton. Now, there are pictures on his phone of me, ass up, wearing his jersey. Clearly a bottom. Clearly begging for it. Eager.
A little slut.
Fuck, what if people see those? I’ll never live it down.
I can’t help but message him, asking for reassurance, but it goes unanswered.
I mean, he is busy with family, but a response would be nice.
I slap my phone onto the bed beside me and stare up at the ceiling. I feel…empty. My ass and my chest.
He’s carved out a piece of me and taken it with him.
Fuck that guy.
I turn over onto my stomach and press my face into the pillow, trying to keep myself from spiraling, but it’s fucking hard when that’s all I want to do. It can be such fun when you really want to overreact. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but fuck if it isn’t a wild ride.
My eye peeks open, and I see my phone sitting next to me. I pick it up and continue my doomscrolling. So much scrolling.
So much Colton.
And then I find his socials. I open his feed and see that he’s reposted some viral video of a dude named Connor proposing to his boyfriend with a silly TikTok dance. Damn, seems Colton really is a romantic.
I scroll more and see someone who has him tagged in many comments. A beautiful brunette woman, maybe someone he’s dated before?
My jealous, obsessed heart pounds in my chest when I navigate to her page and see that she’s started a live video.
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t join, but I do.
I stare at her face, lights in the background, the sound of dance music pumping through my phone’s speaker.
And then Colton appears, looking very much like the playboy from all the online photos, and nothing at all like the sweet guy who left me on my doorstep.
He’s wearing a suit and tie, his hair perfectly coifed, a smug look on his face.
And then the woman leans in and kisses him, making my stomach twist.
What the fuck is this?
What the fuck is he doing?
I look away from the live and send him another text, asking him what he’s doing, why he would let that happen. And I see him look down at his phone as it pings. But he doesn’t respond.
He saw it and didn’t respond.
He looks up into the video feed and almost seems to meet my eyes.
I stare at him, long and hard, and then close down the live, turning my phone off entirely.
He told me not to believe anything I see online. He told me, and yet still, it hurts.
He kissed someone else.
We aren’t monogamous, not really, but it feels like we are.
I have no claim over him, his body, his heart, so why does it feel this awful?
Thunder rumbles outside, and I glower at the window. Even Mother Nature seems to get it.
I roll onto my side and pull my legs up to my chest, my ass still twinging from his cock impaling me roughly the past few days, and close my eyes.
I don’t sleep.
I just think about him.
Dozing is all I manage, and when I finally decide that keeping my eyes closed isn’t helping, I roll out of bed and turn my phone on.
I can’t help it. I’ve been wondering if he’s noticed my absence.
He did. I have several missed calls, two voicemails, and a dozen texts.
I scroll through them while listening to his slurred messages. He sounds drunk and high. Probably both.
“I wanna talk to you. Answer phone. Answer me.”
I don’t. I don’t call him back either. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll give my feelings away, and I don’t want to be vulnerable like that. If I just make it seem like I don’t care, like it doesn’t matter, then I can move on with some dignity.
I have self-respect.
So, I don’t respond. I just tuck my phone under my pillow and make my way out to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.
My sister, Maya, is there, glasses on her nose, her fingers clacking on her computer. Coffee is already brewed, and she has a steaming cup right next to her.
She glances up at me and pushes out her bottom lip.
“Yeah, you sit down, baby bro. Let me get you a coffee, and you can tell me all about it.”
I must look bad, but then again, Maya has always seen right through me.
I do as she suggests, sinking into the chair and staring at the rain coming down outside.
A moment later, a mug of coffee is set before me, and I pull it between my hands, blowing across the top.
“Spill,” she says.
“Nah.”
She stays silent, knowing I will open up in a minute. I take a tentative sip of the coffee and sigh when I taste the Baileys.
“It’s too early to drink.”
“Not when you’re upset. Then the rules don’t count.”
I nod and take another sip.
“Don’t tell anyone else, please. Cone of silence?”
“Cone.” She mimics putting something on top of her head—a cone, I assume—and then takes her coffee in her hands and waits.
“He’s visiting family. Hates them, obviously. Told me not to believe anything I saw online this weekend.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah, I’ve never looked him up before, and that just made me curious. So I did, and I saw him on a live last night, kissing a girl.”
Maya glowers, murder in her eyes. “I hate him.”
“Maya…we aren’t even together. He can do whatever, or whoever, he wants.”
“Nope, that’s not how it works. Unless he has a good reason to kiss someone else, then I don’t buy it.”
I take another sip of the coffee, feeling my stomach churn.
“I don’t know what to do. I feel sick.”
Her hand reaches out and squeezes my arm. “I get it. Hate it when someone you like hurts you.”
“I don’t like him.”
“You clearly do.”
I can’t lie anymore, so I just sit there sipping my coffee, and Maya does the same until she starts squirming in her chair.
“What?”
“So, I’ve been doing some digging…”
“Oh god. Do I even want to know?”
“I mean, maybe?” She taps her computer, and my heart picks up the pace. “How about I tell you a few important details? He can tell you the rest.”
I swallow and think about it. This could be massively breaching his trust. Maya has ways of finding out things that most of us could never find on our own. But at the same time, he broke our unstated agreement. He kissed someone else.
No explanation in those voicemails. Nothing. Just excuses and drunk rambling.
“Tell me.”
She gives a muffled shriek of happiness and then pulls her computer toward her and clicks a few buttons.
“All right, let me see what I have. So, Colton James Cavanaugh is twenty-one years old. His birthday is in June. He’s the son of James and Clara Cavanaugh.” She stops and looks at me. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat. “Keep going?”
“Yeah.”
“Right, so his dad died when he was twelve. I’m still looking at the police reports about his death, but there doesn’t seem to be an autopsy report. Strange that they didn’t do one. But the really weird thing is that his mom remarried just six months later to Erick Jones.”
“And?”
“And Erick took over the company. He’s the CEO, but it seems Colton actually owns fifty-one percent of it. He’s the main shareholder of Cavanaugh Freight.”
That makes my mind whirl.
“Wait? Colton owns most of the company?”
“Yep.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, did you ask why he had to go home?”
“He wouldn’t talk about it. Just that he was going to an event in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It’s apparently their vacation home.”
“Fancy.”
“Yeah, I looked it up after he told me, and I was disgusted at how much those houses cost.” My sister squirms, and I sigh. “Don’t tell me how much he’s worth. I don’t want to know.”
She puffs out her cheeks, but nods all the same.
“I think I’ll wait for him to tell me anything else. I just…maybe I won’t need to know anything about him after this week. Maybe it’s over.”
“He’d be a fool to give you up. You’re a catch.”
“You have to say that because I’m your brother.”
“Yeah, but this time I mean it.”
She nods at my coffee. “Now drink the rest. You’re clenched tighter than your virgin asshole.”
My cheeks blush, and she gasps. “Oh my god, tell me you did.”
When I say nothing, she claps her hands so loud it draws our mom out into the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” she asks, and Maya slaps a hand over her mouth to try to keep it in. But she can’t quite manage.
“He’s no longer an ass virgin!”
Mom’s mouth falls open, and she walks to the fridge, her eyes watering. She pulls out the Baileys and pours herself a small cup.
“To the best gay son I ever did have.”
“Mom,” I groan, but she’s already pulling me into a hug, my face smooshed into her stomach, her arms wrapping around my head.
“I love you so much. So proud of you coming to find who you truly are.”
“I don’t know about that,” I murmur, but she doesn’t hear me, or if she does, she ignores it.
“Now, tell me everything, without getting into too much of the sex stuff. I don’t want to know those kinds of details, but I want to know everything about him. Maya says he’s very charming.”
I roll my eyes at my sister, and she grins widely at me.
“Fine, I’ll tell you what I can, but it won’t be much…we don’t spend a lot of time talking.”
That makes even my mother blush, but she’s not one to back down. Before I know it, all my secrets are spilled.
The only thing I can’t bring myself to tell her is that it might be over before it even really started.