23. Kiara
twenty-three
Kiara
N ot gonna lie, I’m nervous as hell. Not about meeting a stranger and the whole safety aspect of it. I got that part covered. Willow has a screenshot of my date’s profile, plus I’m sharing my location with her in case he shoves me in a snowmobile and smuggles me to Canada. At the last minute, I also texted Colton to let him know where I would be and to “send dogs and the snow patrol if I’m not back by midnight.”
His answer? Have fun, Cinderella.
Not even jealous, not even a Who is this guy? It makes me a little sad that he’s already given up on me (I know, right? What am I thinking?) but mostly confirms I was right not wanting to date him.
I want fun and temporary. Just not with Colton. But clearly, he’s already moved on, and that’s okay.
I set my snowboard in the outdoor rack and walk into the lodge, helmet under my arm. There’s a massive fire roaring in the stone fireplace to my left. Across from me, the back of the lodge is all glass, opening the view to the slopes, yellowish under the night lights.
I get a tingle of anticipation at the idea of the first run of the season, but a quick scan of the place and my temper rises.
Standing between the near-empty bar area and the ticketing booth? Colton.
Colton!
Seriously?
I take another quick sweep of the place under his hot gaze. No sign of Nigel—the guy from the app. Did Colton actually meet him and pack him off? That is so… I don’t even have the words.
I march to him. He’s standing, arms crossed, a small smile on his lips, his gaze up and down my body in a way he has no business making so hot. I’m on a date with someone else. My lady parts shouldn’t be allowed to react to him, but they clearly didn’t get the memo.
“The fuck did you do?” I ask. I know what he did—I know. He came here before me, found Nigel, and scared him away. Fuck that . “You had no right. What did you tell him?”
“Who? Nigel?” His mouth twitches like he’s making fun of him.
“I sent you his information as an extra precaution. As a friend . Not as—”
“Sweets, relax. There is no Nigel.”
“What do you mean?” I look around, like Nigel is going to show up at any moment, prove him wrong. But something heavy settles in the pit of my stomach.
Colton’s eyes shut for a bit, and he groans. “Shit. I knew this was a bad idea,” he mutters to himself, like I’m not even standing in front of him, fuming. “Look. I did a thing, and I’m not proud of it, but I… Please don’t hate me.” His gaze is pleading, and for a bit I feel sorry for him.
If only I knew what he was talking about. “D’you kill him?” I semi-joke.
He nods. “Worse.”
I tilt my head. Worse?
“I made him up. There is no Nigel. It was me all along.”
Nice try. “I spoke with him. What did you do, Colton?”
While he pulls his phone out, he says, “You spoke with Luke, who just moved into town.” He shows me the dating app on his phone, with his profile, and the damn picture. Next to it, the edit button proves Colton controls the profile.
Understanding washes over me like a cold and hot shower. I feel stupid, played, useless. Tears prickle my eyes. “Why would you do that?”
He shuts his eyes briefly, seeming as hurt as I am. “I wanted… this. You and me. Give me a chance, Kiara. Please.”
I don’t want a chance . I don’t do tryouts, not with Colton. I want Colton in my life, for sure and forever. There’s a statistically much, much better chance to have him in my life as a friend than as a… romantic partner.
I want this whole situation to not be true. “I spoke with him,” I say, denying what I know the truth to be. “We had like, a whole conversation.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Doubt seeps into my brain. Does Colton not know that? What is he doing? I frown at him.
“It… I was telling him what to say,” Colton explains.
“Who? Nigel?”
“Not Nigel. There is no Nigel. Luke.’
“Who the hell is Luke?”
“New guy in town. The guy who pretended to be Nigel. So you wouldn’t recognize my voice.”
I swallow, tears still threatening to spill but the feeling teetering between disbelieving and bitter.
Eyes to the ceiling, he sighs deeply. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he mutters.
This is so crazy. “Prove it,” I say. “Prove it was your friend with the sexy voice talking and not Nigel.”
“He said he was staying in Prattsville for a month or so. He didn’t really want to answer the question about his previous relationship. He said something about not having an accent. And then he messed up and said you were reading too much into stuff.” Colton’s jaw tenses. “I thought I’d lost you then, but I tried anyway. He kept laughing because he didn’t know what to say and he needed time to read what I was scribbling.”
The whole time he’s talking, his eyes are scanning my face. Colton is scared that he messed up, that I’m going to ream into him.
Should I? He did play me. Made me believe he was someone else. I told him already I don’t want to date him. Can’t take the risk.
Then why am I so jealous when he mentions Country Club messaging him? Why do I feel so threatened knowing Valerie is back in town, even for a visit?
Is this the person I want to be? Scared to commit because a long time ago, my trust in men was shattered by my piece-of-shit dad? (And my boyfriend. That makes two.) But Colton? Colton is nothing like these men. Colton has always made me feel safe. He has always been there for me. Hell, he’s the one who gave me my life back.
I pretend-huff and take a step to the side. “Lemme get my ticket.”
He produces two night passes and a million-dollar smile. “You’re not paying for anything when you’re on a date with me.”
My heart ba-booms but I try to conceal it.
“And don’t you give me an eye roll,” he adds just as I’m ready to… yup, roll my eyes at him.
“He has a nice voice.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Sexier than yours,” I add to rile him up—to see if he’ll be jealous. If he’s really that into me, or if this is just a lazy move, like I’ve told him before.
“Didn’t factor that in, but I’m sure glad it worked.” He leans over to attach the pass on my jacket like I’m some kid, the brush of his fingers against me warming me up. “Anything to get you here, Kiara,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through my chest.
Special. He’s making me feel special, and my heart threatens to explode already, as if it knew it was in for a world of pain. “What’s this guy’s name again? I might want to catch a beer with him.”
He straightens, chuckles, and attaches his own pass. “You mean the guy who thinks you read too much into things? Who thinks being a foodie means you like to eat?”
“You were really writing down what to tell me?”
He tilts my chin up to look me in the eyes, and dammit if his fingers don’t burn my skin in the best possible way. “This is how this date is gonna go,” he says, and it doesn’t escape me that he’s not answering my question.
I want to know what Colton told Nigel—or whatever his name was. I want to know which parts were Colton and which were not, but Colton has moved onto his topic of choice.
“We’re going to freeze our asses on the slopes,” he’s saying, “but have a lot of fun.”
I suppose, if I let Colton take things further, I’ll get to know if he’s also a sweet talker, or if that was all Nig—what’s-his-name. Though I have to say, what’s-his-face’s voice might have been objectively sexy, but it did nothing for me. Not the way Colton’s does. Not even close.
“We’ll take the gondola,” he’s saying, “so I won’t be tempted to put my arm around you on the chairlift.” The traitor manages to smirk at that. “When you’re done having fun you let me know, we’ll come back in and get a hot chocolate. Then we’ll drive our separate ways. Sound good to you?”
My shoulders relax, yet I feel a tinge of disappointment. This is just going to be snowboarding, after all.
His lip tips up at the corner. “Don’t worry, there’ll be other dates.” He lets my chin go, but not without tracing my jawline with his knuckle, then adds, “Taking it slow.”
My knees buckle slightly at his words, spoken under his breath, his gaze showing all he’s not saying in case I needed captions.
I don’t know how to feel about the fact that Colton went through all the trouble of creating a fake profile and getting some guy to stand in for him on the phone. Basically catfished me. I should be angry, maybe even concerned over his state of mind.
But I’m not. Even if he played me, I know where he’s coming from. I haven’t been playing hard to catch with him. I’ve effectively shut him off, when he’s been so good to me. I’ll chalk his little deception under desperate times calling for desperate measures. And I can’t say that I’m immune to Colton going to all this effort… just for a date with me.
“'Kay, let’s go,” I say a little too briskly. If I can’t get the tingling under control, I’m going to make a fool of myself on the slopes. Rubber legs won’t be my friend.