Chapter 38 Colton
THIRTY-EIGHT
COLTON
OCTOBER | COLUMBUS, OHIO
“I know.” It was the refrain of every phone call with my dad.
“You’re not hitting your edges,” Dad went on. The call switched from the car speakers to the phone as I got out. I was so fucking worn out, and I’d been receiving “advice” since I left the arena fifteen minutes ago.
I prayed the phone signal would cut off in the elevator to my apartment, but didn’t get so lucky. My fucking brain itched. I loved hockey. Grew up at the rink. Lived it. Breathed it. But even I hit a wall when it came to analyzing every possible variable you could change to get a different outcome.
“Royce just isn’t the strongest goalie,” I said.
“Son, you can’t blame it on the goalie, no matter how true it is . . .” He launched into his highly predictable “protect the goalie” speech I’d heard countless times throughout my life.
I cut him off to try and spare a few minutes of my precious time. “Well, we didn’t do a good job in our zone either. That’s on me.”
Sometimes, if I owned up to being the weak link, Dad would be proud of my work ethic and deem his work done for the day. I wasn’t really the weak link here, but I just wanted to be alone.
After the game, I sat in my car with a massive pit in my stomach because I was stupid enough to open social media.
And, of course, there was more of the daily criticisms: I should step down, the Rusties don’t have any stars, the Rusties play boring hockey, and a few stray comments about how hot Violet is.
Apparently, basement dwellers don’t forget the women they see on the internet. It was concerning at best.
Usually, I could shrug off my dad’s shit. I could shrug off Coach’s advice that, frankly, didn’t seem that smart. I could shrug off stupid people on the internet. I could shrug off my strange arrangement with Violet that I knew deep down could never sate my hunger for her.
But not all at once.
I keyed into my apartment and leaned back against the door, letting the familiar scent of my space sink in. Home.
But there was an extra feminine hint to the air, and that strange feeling that I wasn’t alone.
All I wanted was to be alone. Alone where I didn’t have to pretend I was okay. Alone where I didn’t have to act like I appreciated everyone’s “advice.”
Just fucking alone.
But I wasn’t.
“Mmm, Colt,” came from my bedroom, along with a faint buzzing. Every cell in my body went on edge. Had some stalker broken in to try and get some sick chance with me?
“Dad, I gotta go.”
“I’m not finished—”
“I have to go,” I said more urgently and ended the call.
I crossed my fingers, like that would help somehow, as I turned the corner into my room.
And what a fucking sight.
Violet. Her hands were bound to the headboard in leather cuffs. She was wearing some sheer and lacy black lingerie thing. Nipples pointed to the ceiling. Back arched. And she had a wand sex toy pinned between her thighs.
My brain went into overdrive. Under normal circumstances, I’d have been excited to find my girlfriend writhing on my bed and moaning my name.
Fake girlfriend.
My fake girlfriend was another thing in my life that was complicated.
I couldn’t just “have my way with her,” because it would probably send her out the door at teleportation-level speed.
No, I had to remember which book this was from, what guy I was supposed to pretend to be, and which moves weren’t going to make her lose her shit.
So the words that came out of my mouth were not the smartest choice.
“I can’t, Vi.”
She jolted up, scrambling to get her wrists out of the restraints she’d tied to my bed. “What?”
She rushed to switch off the vibrator between her legs. She tossed it to the side like it was on fire. She looked scared, and a part of me ached over that look.
I leaned into the doorframe and hung my head, struggling to remember which scene she was doing. “Was I not supposed to find you?”
Her voice was tiny. “No, I wanted you to. That was the point. Like from the cowboy series. Remember?”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “No. I don’t fucking remember.
I’ve just had the worst fucking day and I’m exhausted, and I come home to another performance for Colton.
Another time Colton has to make everybody happy,” I ranted, an agitated feeling building in my blood.
“I’ve lost eight fucking games straight.
We’re the laughingstock of the league. The seats were half empty tonight.
Half our guys are checked out. I just . .
. I fucking can’t, Violet. I can’t fix you tonight. ”
More hurtful, foolish words had never fallen out of my mouth. I braced myself for the blowback. Violet’s tear-filled eyes narrowed at me, her cheeks flushing.
“I never once asked you to fix me,” Violet growled. “I am in therapy. I am doing what I need to do. I thought this would help you relax and take your mind off the game. I was trying to be a good friend.”
Friend. Another reminder of how fucked up my life was getting. The most beautiful woman in the world was squirming on my bed, but don’t worry, she was just my friend.
But that was my own stupid choice, I guess.
I shrugged with a humorless laugh. “You are, Vi. You’re a good friend. I’m just the guy who can’t fucking get a win. My dad can’t wait to point out all my failings. Every game we lose tightens the damn cinch, and I don’t know how to come out of it. I don’t know how to get out of this.”
Vi sat on her heels at the edge of the bed, brows stitched together while she watched me melt down. “Colt—”
“I’m not done. You’re going to hate this. I hate that I’m going to say this.”
“It’s okay. Let it out.”
I heaved a breath. “Every single day, I wait for the other Colton and Violet shoe to drop. It fucked me up, Vi. The times you left . . . I was not okay. And I’m still not totally secure that you’re not going to run off again.
But I don’t know. I’m kind of doing it to myself.
You were sitting here in lingerie with your legs spread, moaning out my name, and I came in here and yelled at you. ”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, picking at a thread on my comforter. “I-I should have checked in with you first. I thought it would be a welcome surprise. But that was presumptuous.”
Her voice broke, adding to my guilt and shame spiral. “I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish I were better. Easier. I wish I had never hurt you. I’m sorry I dragged you into all this.”
“Honestly, I’m sorry too,” I said, exasperated.
“You didn’t drag me into this. All of this is my fucking fault.
‘Hey, Colton! Remember that shady guy you let stay on as the goalie in college? He raped your girlfriend, so now you have to live with that guilt and the trauma he caused her! And now, if you want to have sex with her, you have to do a whole production! And just in case you needed one more thing to worry about, you have to play that guy twice next week!’”
She flinched when I said the “r” word. Violet breathed out hard through her nose.
“I understand that you’re feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.
What happened to me isn’t my fault, nor is it yours.
” I opened my mouth to object but she silenced me with a look.
“I’m working on my shit, and I want to be here for you while you’re going through yours.
I didn’t know you were about to play him twice, and I’m happy to talk about how you’re feeling.
But I need you to speak to me respectfully.
If you don’t want to do the book stuff anymore, we don’t have to. ”
My chest tightened. Was this what a heart attack felt like? I was a kid throwing a tantrum while she was a rational adult. She was meeting every metaphorical flail of my little fists with calm restraint. My breaths got shorter and shakier.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I thought I would be alone. I hate feeling this way.”
Her voice was confident. “I’m not afraid of you like this. But if you want me to leave, I’ll go.”
I pressed my lips between my teeth so hard they hurt, my hands on my hips. I closed my eyes, fighting the stinging behind them. I pinched the bridge of my nose and my fingers came away wet. My voice didn’t sound like my own. “I don’t want you to go. I need you.”
My bedsheets crinkled and Violet padded over to me. “Then I’m here.”
Violet raised on her toes and kissed my temple, then cupped the back of my head. Her fingers stroked along my scalp and I nestled my face into her shoulder. And she just held me. Her thumb passed over the base of my skull.
“I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with,” she whispered.
That statement crushed me so badly that I’m surprised there wasn’t an audible crunch from my chest. Loving Violet was the easiest thing I’d ever done in my life, and it killed me that she thought the opposite.
But if I dropped the L word right then, she’d have run so fast I’d have just seen a black lace and skin-toned streak disappearing out my door.
And I knew I loved her, because I’d never stopped.
“No. I’m not really mad at you. I like the book stuff, a lot. I’m sorry.”
She held me back, looking me up and down, assessing.
“I know you’re frustrated. You’re right to be.
These are the times I question whether I should be in anybody’s life, you know?
You’re so understanding, but am I going to break your limit?
What if I don’t feel better fast enough? What if I can’t get past the triggers?”
“We can work around that,” I said, folding our hands together between us. “What I can’t work around is the threat of you leaving. It’s been too amazing having you back.”
She nibbled her lower lip and gazed at our feet.
“It’s different now. I think, back then, I left so you couldn’t leave me.
I was in control if I left. And I really needed that.
” She tipped her head to the side. “And also, I was scared shitless and triggered. But I could have called you after to work it out and I didn’t. ”
“We’re figuring it out now,” I said, leading her so we could sit on the edge of my bed. I pulled her into my lap, looped my arms around her waist, and rested my cheek on her breast. “You look really hot, by the way.”
Violet laughed. “Even with my small boobs? Do they even work as hockey captain pillows?”
I turned to kiss the top of each breast, then nestled my head back in.
“Your wonderful little titties make the perfect pillows for this hockey captain.” I stilled, a thought occurring to me.
I’d been shoving down this nagging thought since we started this whole arrangement.
“Hey, um . . . ugh, I don’t even want to say it. ”
“Better out than in,” Violet sang. “We just found out what happens when you hold it all in.”
I closed my eyes and pinched my lips into a line. “I’m not just a stand-in for your book boyfriends, am I?”
“No. You’re not.” Violet’s arm wrapped around my shoulder and she held me closer. “Do you wanna know why sexy stuff is so good with you?”
“I’d love to know why I’m a sex god,” I joked.
Her eyes softened. “Because I trust you. I know you’d never try to hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t,” I confirmed. “Never.”
“I can be myself with you,” she said after a pause. “And I want you to be yourself with me. You can be messy. You don’t have to fake sunshine if you don’t feel it. Not for me. Okay?”
I smiled up at her and she tightened her arms around my neck, swinging her legs where they hung from my lap. “Okay.”
“Plus, a lot of times when I’m reading spicy scenes, I’m thinking of us. Of how we could make it fun.”
I grinned into her sparkling eyes. “Me too.”
Violet kissed my temple and hugged me tight again.
“You missed,” I said. She looked confused, but I reached for her chin. She giggled before we met in a delicate kiss, parting with a quicker smooch. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”
Her lips quirked up. “I don’t think I could ever give up on you, Colton Jones.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear that, and to hear it from her, until it was gliding over my skin like a pair of sweats at the end of a long day. “I’m not giving up on you either. Not ever.”
She rubbed the tip of her nose to mine. “Good. Now,” she skimmed her finger down my nose and booped the end of it, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on with hockey?”
My head sagged back on my shoulders. “Ugh. I had just forgotten about it.”
“Do you want to keep forgetting, or talk it out?”
A slow grin spread across my face before I wrestled Vi back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. “I want you to help me remember this cowboy scene. Is it the one where he,” I nibbled the inside of her thigh to her squirm, “eats her pussy, then,” I nipped her stomach, “comes on her stomach?”
Violet’s eyes glowed up at me. “That’s the one.”
I tugged her thighs flush with my shoulders and she squeaked, then sighed when I licked a stripe up either side of her lips. “Good. Because I’m getting real tired of not eating this pussy.”