33. Chapter 33
33
“ W ill you stop complaining?” Blake has been adamant on doing my glam all week. She knows I hate wearing makeup. Not that either one of us wears much anyway, but she indulges in falsies, blush, and lipstick, while I prefer a swipe of mascara and maybe some Chapstick.
“I didn't want to do this in the first place. You’re going to have to put up with the complaining,” I say as she brushes something on my eyelid.
“Fine. But you’re going to thank me once you see how amazing you look.”
I crack one eye open to look at her. “Are you implying that I don’t already look amazing?” The deadpan she gives causes me to laugh. “It’s too easy to irritate you. You should really lighten up.” That itself is a joke. Blake is always quick to any emotion. She is her mother through and through. She feels big, expresses big, and behaves… big.
“You remember that while I tell you that you have plans tonight.” This time, I pull away from her, opening my eyes completely.
“What do you mean, plans ?” I hate last-minute things.
She shrugs a shoulder. “It’s just supper.”
“Supper where? With who?”
“Wherever you want, I suppose.” I wait for her to say more, but she goes back to messing with the makeup.
“With who, Blake?” She tucks her lips to keep from smiling, which only makes me more nervous. I know exactly who she’s referring to, but the fact that she won’t say it is making things so much worse. When she moves to put more makeup on my face, I pull back more, refusing until she answers me.
Giving up the fight, she points the makeup brush at me. “Listen. I know you’re not a fan of surprises, but I’m doing this for your own good, okay?” I’m suddenly very fidgety. Blake puts the brush down and places her hands on the top of my legs, which helps to ground me. “I want you to be carefree and have some fun for once.”
“Do you not know me at all? When have I ever been carefree?” She can’t be serious. Blake can’t be doing this to me.
“That’s the point!” She throws her hands in the air, always one for the dramatics. “You need to let loose. You were with that insufferable twat for five years. He ruined you.”
“Ouch.” That stung a little. “Are you saying I’m insufferable now?” She opens her mouth to respond, but snaps it shut again. Great .
Her phone vibrates, and she smiles big when she checks it. “You aren’t insufferable, but I don’t think you know how to have fun or who you are. I’m simply helping push you in the direction to figure it out.”
I let out a small sigh that causes Blake’s smile to get even bigger. “Fine. You win.”
She jumps up and squeals. “Yay! Now go get dressed. You have thirty minutes until he’s here to pick you up,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks out of the room.
“Who?” I yell, “who is picking me up?” Silence. “Blake!” Damn her and her hardheadedness.
With the minimal information I had from Blake and the time crunch, I decided on my favorite pair of jeans and a purple sweater that hangs off my shoulder. After throwing on a pair of converse, I fluff my hair, ready to take on the night. I know my best friend well enough to know she wouldn’t be sending me out with someone who isn’t my boyfriend. I just don’t understand why it’s all a secret.
“Holy fuck balls. You’re hot ,” Blake exclaims as I enter the living room. I roll my eyes, but honestly, the compliment is a nice boost for the ego. Even though Colt and I have slept together and he’s literally seen every inch of me, I still feel self conscious.
My memories go back to the night of Tyson’s game and the way Colt looked at me, the way he spoke to me. The ease and confidence in which he shares his thoughts is not something I’m used to. Well, maybe with Blake and Tyson, but they’re different. Their forwardness comes from a place of playful banter. There’s no banter in Colt’s voice when he compliments me.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.
“That’s my cue.” Blake jumps up and exits the room. Great. Not only am I going into this blind, I’m also going in alone.
I make my way to the door and suck in a deep breath. I need to trust that Blake knows what she’s doing and would never put me in a bad position. Mustering all of my courage, I open the door and my heart leaps out of my chest, landing on the floor.
Colt Gibson is a sight for sore eyes, and sore other things if I'm honest. His impossibly gorgeous hair, the way he fills out his shirt, the smile that’s peeking from under his beard, and his lazy but confident stance. He’s leaned against the banister opposite the door frame, hands in his pockets as always.
“Hey wife,” he says. I must be stunned into silence because words are not an active part of my brain right now. I knew it was going to be Colt, and couldn’t be happier that it’s him, but I’ll never get used to the power of his presence. “Hi Colt, it’s nice to see you,” he mocks, snapping me from the trance he had me in.
A laugh escapes me. I love his playful side. It doesn’t come out much, he’s usually so serious. But when it does, I get a little more giddy. “Hi Colt, it’s nice to see you,” I repeat, my smile never leaving.
Colt’s eyes darken as they roam over me, sending shock waves down my spine. My body remembers all too well the feel of him on me, in me. They don't linger long before his gaze is back on mine. “It’s nice to see you too, Libs,” he affirms deliberately, and heat rises up my neck. “Are you ready to go?” He holds his arm out for me to loop mine through.
Nodding, I thread my hand through and start to walk to the stairs, only to feel the resistance of Colt not moving. I twist around and find him staring down at me. “Words, Libs. I need to hear you.” The innuendo swirls in my core and my heart rate kicks up a notch.
“Yes,” I breathe. It’s the only word I can find.
A mouth watering smirk graces his face and he hooks his finger under my chin, angling my face towards his. “Good,” he says, and he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a small bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”
“Again? You just got me flowers.”
“It’s our first date after you let me claim that pussy of yours. What better time is there?” Colt grabs my hand before I can respond, pulling me to his truck.