Chapter 19 – The Bet.
Iwatch him sleep for a short while, wondering what else he and Logan got up to in their youth years. His memory made my cheeks hurt from laughing. I can literally imagine him flying off the back of a bike and into a for-sale board. The thought gives me an idea, and I pull my notepad from my bag. It can’t be that hard to write a speech, can it?
Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, and those who accidentally wandered into the wrong wedding—I mean, welcome! For those who don’t know me, I’m the best man. And no, I didn’t win a “Who can wear the most uncomfortable suit” contest; this is actuallyhappening.
Not bad, I wonder if Colton would approve. I continue to write pointers for him, making notes when to pause for the audience to laugh or cheer.
“What are you doing, Pearl?” I jump at the sound of his sleepy voice. He is looking down at my notepad while moving to sit up.
I go to tell him what I’ve started, but impostor syndrome kicks in, and I fear I may have overstepped. Changing the subject, I ask him how he slept.
Giving me a lopsided smile, he says, “Yeah, okay, I think? How long was I out for?” He yawns.
Glancing at my watch, I note it’s ten to eleven. “About an hour and a half.”
“Really,” he says, raising both brows. “Felt like a few hours.”
I smile, oddly happy that he feels rested. Damn, my hormones are going crazy.
Pointing at my notepad, he asks, “So, you were writing and smiling, care to share?” I look down at the words and back up at him, nerves swirling inside my stomach as I slowly hand it to him.
“You don’t have to use any of it. I tried to make it more of a guide for you,” I say. “I just wanted to help.”
He reads over it, grinning every so often, before he jumps off the lounge chair and picks me up, spinning us in circles. I scream and laugh at him, calling out for him to put me down. He places me on the sand, then pulls me into his strong arms “Thank you,” he whispers into my hair as he rests his chin on top of my head. “Thank you, Pearl.”
******
I can’t bring myself to talk about last night’s quick bang with him yet. I was going to call Hadley and tell her all about it, knowing she would enjoy the juicy details of my sex life.
Little weirdo. But Colton joined me at the beach, so I couldn’t exactly talk about him.
He asked me if we were going to talk about it, and I ignored him, changing the subject.
Maybe we should? Alas, it’s like he can hear every thought I have.
“So, last night, we fucked.” Straight to the point, I’ll give him that.
“Yep.” I pop the p, nodding my head up and down but unable to make eye contact with him.
“Aaaaaand maybe we should do it again?” Whipping my head up, I glare at him.
“And maybe we shouldn’t,” I say, poking him in the chest with my pointer finger.
Huffing loudly, he taps my finger away and folds his muscular arms across his chest.
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen, I know guys like you, Deep Browns. After this wedding, you’ll forget my name and that I ever existed.” I cringe internally at my honesty.
He goes quiet for a few minutes. “Then let me take you on a date, let me show you you’re more than a one-time thing.” Tears, for some unbeknownst reason, pool in my eyes, and I’m scared to see his face. What if he means it? But he won’t, it’s not in his nature. I’m just the British wannabe pianist. I’m not glamorous or popular. I’m not a millionaire or girlfriend material.
I grab my bag and stand, shaking my arms out. Tomorrow’s the wedding; I need to focus on that and playing the best I’ve ever played piano.
“Just one date, Margo.” I look down at him, and my whole body is screaming, pleading with me to go to him. I shake my head and walk back toward the hotel.
As I walk away, he calls out my real name. I dare not turn back around or I’ll change my mind. It’s for the best, right?
Once I’m in my suite and the door is firmly shut and locked, I let the tears fall. I have no idea why he has this effect on me. I’ve had boyfriends in the past, and they knew piano came first. I never felt like I was losing my ambitions and dreams with any of my exes. But with Colton, I’m terrified if I let him in, I wouldn’t just lose my life’s goal, I’d lose me too.
******
Bang, bang, bang.
What the fuck? I grumble, half asleep and unsure if I dreamt someone was banging on my room door or not, then it stops as quick as it came, and I close my eyes and roll back over.
Bang, bang, bang.
I jolt upright. No, that’s definitely my door and not a dream. I grab my phone from the bedside table and see it’s one in the morning. Is the hotel on fucking fire?
Bang, bang, bang. A “Fuck” comes from the other side of my door.
“Pearrrrrl, let—” Hiccup “Meee in—” Hiccup.
I huff out an annoyed “Arggh.”
Colton. Good lord, I can smell the booze from here and haven’t even opened the door yet.
Swinging it open, I find Colton’s arms stretched as he holds on to the top of my door frame, his head dropped down at the floor as he sways back and forth. Idiot.
Letting out a deep exhale through my nose, I whisper, “What are you doing here, Colt?”
His head twitches as he attempts to lock eyes with me. “C-caan I stay with yooou?”
I want to say no, I really do, but I can’t, the wedding is hours away and he needs rest. Logan will not react well if his best man is drunk the morning of his wedding.
“Fine, but no funny business or you’ll be getting another black eye to match that one, okay?” I point at his black eye to make my point.
He smiles, chuckling to himself as he stumbles his way into my room, then drops down onto my bed. Looks like I’m sleeping on the sofa.
He faffs about unlacing his shoes, grunting, and hiccupping as he gets stuck on the knots.
“For God’s sake, Colton,” I snap. “Let me do it, you’re making so much bloody noise.” I place my blanket on the couch and kneel before him. He goes to open his mouth, but I put up my hand, signaling him to stop. “Don’t you dare open that mouth, Deep Browns.” He laughs as I go back to trying to undo his laces, the idiot has added more knots, not undone them.
Eventually, I get them off his feet.
“There, done, now swing your legs under the covers and go to sleep.” He ignores me and stands up, stripping his clothes off one piece at a time. My mouth waters and my heart rate increases. No, stop, you can’t, he’s drunk.
“I won’t press charges, darling, touch me.” I squeeze my legs together tighter. This guy!
“Here’s the deal, Pearl, you give me one night.” He grabs the sides of my head with his warm hands, pulling me closer until he rests his forehead on mine. “We will go on date, then back to my place or yours and fuck like the other night but in a bed.” He winks and hiccups. “Aaand I think during that night, I can convince you I’m worth the shot.” He flops backward onto the bed, taking me with him.
“What do you say?” he asks, his eyes closed, sleep trying to take over. It’s pointless trying to talk to him now. I’m certain come morning he won’t remember, or he will regret ever saying it. So, I decide to just give him the answer he wants and let him sleep.
“Sure, thing, Romeo, sure thing.”
******
“You were old-man snoring.” I scoff, annoyed at the little sleep I’ve had all night. We drifted into slumber during early hours of the morning with my head on his chest and his arms wrapped around me like a vise while snoring his fucking head off. What was I thinking when I agreed to let him stay in my room? Today’s the fucking wedding, for Christ’s sake. “I don’t snore, that was you.” Was he on drugs last night too, seriously?
“Clearly, it was me, that’s why I’m telling you and not the other way around.” I rip the covers back and storm toward the bathroom.
“I. Do. Not. Old. Man. Snore!” he shouts.
I’ve seen enough murder programs at this point in my life: CSI Miami, CSI New York. I think I can come up with a way to end him for real and get away with it.
I decide to tease him instead of killing him—I can’t play piano in prison. While batting my lashes, I say, “Oh but you do, Deep Browns, you really do.” Tipping my head back and closing my eyes, I let out a loud snore.
“ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ.” Opening one eye, I wink at him.
“What the hell are you doing?” The sheer confusion on his handsome face has me cracking up.
“What does it look like I’m doing, darling?” I pause when he licks his lips, and I bite mine before informing him in a flat tone, “I was serenading you, like you did me last night with your snoring.” I flip him the middle finger when he raises a brow. “Jokes, I’m talking in your native tongue, we should be able to communicate much better now.” He groans and flops back down on my bed, and I let out a loud laugh before turning back into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind me.