Chapter Colin Adams
COLIN ADAMS
I wasn’t comfortable.
Of course you’d expect me to say something like that—I’m that predictable. Henry must’ve picked the busiest spot in the city, and the crowd at this bar just kept growing by the minute.
“But man, look at all these gorgeous women…” He took a sip of his beer and shot me a teasing wink.
“I feel terrible for asking you to come out.”
“Is that because of my company or the place?”
“Both.” I didn’t even hesitate.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re here—that’s already progress.”
“Whatever.”
We’d been sitting there for about thirty minutes, and it felt like half the college girls at one of the tables had stopped what they were doing just to stare at me.
“You’ve got fans.”
“I noticed.”
One winked. Another bit her lip. The youngest-looking one smiled and ran her fingers through her hair while looking straight at me...
I’m too old for this.
“Colin, Colin, Colin,” Henry said, shaking his head. “Try to relax a little.”
“Relaxing isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“Do what your assistant does—talk to someone new. Who knows? You might actually have a good time.”
“My assistant? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, you haven’t seen her? Look, back left corner.”
I followed his gaze—and froze.
Of course. Isabelle.
As if seeing her almost every damn day wasn’t enough, now I had to run into her here?
But strangely enough, it wasn’t anger that hit me this time. It was... jealousy. Watching some guy blatantly hitting on her was getting under my skin, and I wasn’t hiding it well.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
Truth was, I didn’t need to go anywhere near the bathroom. I just wanted an excuse to walk past her. It didn’t work—she didn’t even look up.
Or maybe she pretended not to.
I did it again. Twice.
Yeah, I probably looked like some deranged stalker, pacing around to get her attention, and the worst part was how wrong it felt.
“Try being a little less obvious, please,” Henry muttered, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. God, this was so messed up.
“What?”
“You know damn well what, Colin Adams.”
“I hate when people use my full name,” I growled, glaring at him.
“I know. But getting jealous over Isabelle won’t do you any good. You might wanna face that fact.”
“Who said I’m jealous? I’m just… concerned. About her daughter.”
What the hell did Hanna have to do with me staring at Isabelle? Nothing. It was hands down the worst excuse I’d ever come up with—in my entire life.
“Yeah, you might wanna work on your excuses too. That one was pathetic.”
I didn’t reply. I just kept watching Isabelle, feeling more and more pissed as I saw her smiling at that guy—and him smiling right back. Their conversation had gotten close, too close, and it was pretty obvious where it was headed.
Damn it, Isabelle.
How do I get you out of my head? Do I even want to?
These unanswered questions were eating me alive.
“I need some air.”
I left our table and stepped outside, trying to think. I should’ve just gone home—saved myself the trouble—but the thought of leaving Isabelle with a guy she barely knew didn’t sit right with me. She should’ve been with me.
Anyone would be better than a screwed-up man like me, but still…
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the guy she’d been talking to leaving the bar—alone. He looked a little too pleased with himself, grinning like an idiot as he answered his phone. We were only a few feet apart.
“Yeah, I’ll be late,” he said. “I’m talking to this woman, and she’s totally into me.”
My blood boiled the second I heard it.