Chapter 13 Colt #2
“After I started feeling better, I came back to school, went back to hockey like everything was normal. The only people here who know all that are Beau and Coach Winchester. All the other guys who were on the team with me at the time think I just went on some month-long vacation or something.
“Everything has been relatively normal since then. Usually, I can keep my emotions in check, and I promise I really am a happy guy. I’m not ‘depressed’ the way most people think of when that word gets tossed around.
It’s just that you made me forget what day it was.
I didn’t have to dwell on it because you were there and you made it better.
” I stop talking, finally, because I don’t know how to continue.
I feel as if I’ve been rambling about my trauma for an hour, but, realistically, I know it’s only been twenty minutes.
Stella’s staring at me with so much pity that I want to scratch my skin off.
“And today, I made it worse. You told me you didn’t cook, and I didn’t know, and I made it worse.” The tears in her eyes don’t fall, but her gaze is flooded with guilt.
“No, no, you didn’t make it worse, Stella.” I turn so that I’m facing her on the couch and grab her slender hand in mine. “You tried to do something nice for me. I appreciate you wanting to look out for me. You didn’t make anything worse…”
“But…?” she asks, hearing the continuation in my voice.
“But I can’t do things like that with you.
It has to be just sex, Stella. You promised.
I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. And I like you a lot.
More than I should, probably. But I can’t do things like that with you if you’re just going to leave me.
I need a line, and the line we drew was sex.
It was your line. I’m a relationship type of guy, Stell, but I can’t go there with you if you aren’t going to reciprocate.
” I pause, because I can see the hurt forming in her eyes.
“I’m not trying to berate you or criticize your choice.
You have your own boundaries, one of which seems to be no relationships, and I’ll respect that.
Only I’m getting the sense that you don’t really know how to separate a relationship from a fling…
” I decide to stop talking, again, before I put my foot in my mouth.
She’s silent for a long time, but she doesn’t look like I’ve offended her. She bites her lip, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s pensive.
“For as long as I can remember, men in my life have been…slimy. It’s not just everything that happened with Dylan; that was just the icing on the cake.
“My first boyfriend, a guy named Caleb, when I was sixteen, dated me for ten months. Then he broke up with me the week after he took my virginity. Like he got what he wanted and then threw me to the curb.
“Other guys…they’ve just been plain mean and judgmental. I’ve never been petite. I’ve been catcalled and harassed more times than I can count for my curves. But I worked hard for this body. And if I let myself go, if I gained weight, I’d just get shamed for that, too.
“But the worst thing a man ever did…was my father. He was a good dad. He raised my sister and me right. He loved us and told us boys had cooties when we were little. He went to every sporting event we had, every school show we were in. He chaperoned trips with us, helped us with our homework, and held us when we cried. He would come home from work and kiss my mom in the kitchen, and we’d have family game night. He loved us.
“And then we found out he had a secret family. He was with a woman fifteen years younger than him, and he had a toddler with her. And when he was confronted by my mom, he just left and didn’t come back.
“The one man who was supposed to love us unconditionally just walked away and didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t act as if it affected him in the slightest.”
I expected the tears from earlier to be falling down her face now, but I’m surprised to see that she’s dry-eyed.
This story doesn’t make her sad; it makes her livid.
I can see the anger in the flush of her cheeks.
Finally, she meets my eyes. “I gave up on trusting men a long time ago, Colt. I learned that all they do is let you down… And then I met you.”
I stop breathing, thinking I misunderstood, not wanting to miss what she says next.
“You might just be the first guy I’ve ever met who sees me before you see my body. You’re a protector, not a taker. You’ve never made me feel like a means to an end. Even before I told you about Dylan, you treated me with respect,” she says these things with such conviction that it breaks my heart.
“Stella, that is the bare minimum. The bare fucking minimum, and it makes me sick that you’ve experienced anything less.
” My head is reeling. I feel disgusted with my own species at her words.
I know most guys only think with their dicks, but I was also inclined to think most of them grow out of it at some point. But her dad? That’s so fucked up.
We sit in a long, heavy silence, neither one of us knowing how to continue after the trauma dump that just occurred.
Finally, Stella decides to keep going. “I don’t trust love, Colt.
I don’t trust that people today even know how to love for real.
It’s all based on lust and fiction. I’ve been disappointed too many times.
I don’t even know if I have it in me to love someone the way they deserve without always being on edge and needing reassurance.
That’s why I said no to a date with you.
I like you, I do. You’re the first guy I’ve been attracted to since the Dylan thing; the first guy in five months who doesn’t make me want to climb out of my own skin. But I just…I can’t go there.”
Her big green eyes meet mine, and I cave. I reach forward and pull her into a hug so strong I’m probably crushing her, but I don’t care. She wraps her arms around my bare waist, and we just sit like that, clinging to one another.
Eventually, she humorlessly laughs into my chest and says, “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
“A big fucking mess.”