33. Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Pony
Now that Sherry and I are no longer together, I have to somehow convince Remi to give me another shot. She may not want anything to do with me now, and I’m not sure I even have the right to ask her to give me a second chance.
When did my love life become this complicated?
Nevertheless, I’m not giving up. At the very least, I owe her an apology for what happened last night at McQueen’s.
Anticipating rejection, my mouth goes dry, but I drag in a deep breath, lift my hand, and knock on her door.
Remi answers in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair damp like she recently got out of the shower. Taking her in, I’m filled with that same familiar longing I get every time she’s near me.
The frown on her face tells me she isn’t happy to see me. Not that I blame her, I’ve been an exceptional jackass.
“Colton? What are you doing here?”
Her tone is irritable, but I’m a man on a mission and don’t let it discourage me. “Can I come in?”
Reluctantly, she steps aside to let me pass, closing the door behind us. When she turns and faces me, she folds her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between us. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to apologize for Sherry’s behavior at McQueen’s.”
“I appreciate that, but you shouldn’t be here. I think it’s best if you and I don’t see each other, Colton. You have a girlfriend. You should go back to her and forget about me.” She moves toward the door, ready to throw me out.
“We broke up,” I blurt.
Her back stiffens and she goes still. When she swings her head around, her eyes are wide, searching mine. Her voice drops to nothing more than a whisper. “Why?”
I hear her soft intake of breath as I close the distance between us.
I’m in her space, but careful not to touch her.
Being this close is affecting me. I ache for her.
My body craves her. I want to take her into my arms, but I know if I touch her, I’ll only want more, and I don’t have the right.
At least not yet. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. It wasn’t fair to her.”
Before she has a chance to respond, the unmistakable sounds of two people having sex float from Ricochet’s room.
Remi and I stare, our eyes drifting over each other like a caress.
Her tongue runs over her lips, and my gaze zeroes in on her kissable mouth.
When our eyes meet again, they hold. The sexual chemistry flowing between us is so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
“Ricochet…” It’s all she gets out by way of explanation when the sounds get more enthusiastic.
My grin comes on slowly. “You wanna get out of here? I know a great place for pie not too far from here.” With the sexual tension in the air and the sounds of sex serenading us, I know if we stay, I’m going to ravish her right here in her living room.
My question breaks the spell. “Yeah.” She nods with a relieved laugh. “Pie sounds perfect. Give me two minutes to change.”
After changing, she leaves a note for Ricochet, and we head out to my car.
“So, that was…interesting.”
“Let’s agree to never mention this again.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” We both laugh nervously. “How’s your arm feeling?”
“Pretty good. Although it feels like I’m never going to get out of this cast.”
“I’m sure it’s been difficult, but you’ll be free of it eventually, and it’ll be nothing but a memory.”
“I hope you’re right,” she says softly.
We pull into the diner’s parking lot. After finding a space, I park and cut the engine. As we walk inside, I risk placing a hand on the small of her back and keep it there when she doesn’t protest or move away.
We seat ourselves, sliding into a secluded booth in the corner. It doesn’t take long for our server to take our order and bring us pie and coffee. Lemon meringue for her. Apple for me.
The silence between us is heavy. Now that we’re alone, it’s like we don’t know what to say to each other. The camaraderie that came so easily is strained now, but I’m determined to get it back.
“How’s your pie?”
“It’s good. I love anything lemon. How’s yours?”
“Good.”
The silence returns.
“The recent rain’s been nice. Unexpected.”
The weather? Really, Colton? That’s the best you’ve got?
She nods. “Feels like the season is finally starting to change.”
This is shaping up to be the most painful conversation of my life.
Across the room, someone drops a plate, and it shatters on the floor. Remi flinches, eyes wide, her head whipping around to find the source of the noise.
I can’t stand seeing her fear. Sliding out of the booth, I move to sit next to her and take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you alright?”
Head down, she stares at her plate as if it holds the answers to all the universe’s questions. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
She’s not.
“Ricochet told me you’re having nightmares. I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it. You can tell me anything, you know.”
“It’ll get better once I get…” She snaps her mouth shut.
“Once you get what?”
“Once I, uh, get some distance from what happened,” she hedges.
Her dodge is obvious. I want to dig deeper, but she changes the subject before I can.
“I got your texts,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t answer you. If my phone hadn’t broken, I would have.”
I squeeze her hand. “It’s not your fault, Remi. I should’ve listened to my heart and waited for you.”
“You thought I ghosted you.” She lifts her head, her eyes finally meeting mine. “I feel so bad about that.”
I don’t want her to feel bad. Ever. Especially not about this, something she had no control over. “You know, you could respond to them now if you wanted,” I tease her with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
Her laugh is small, not much more than a smile and a puff of air, still it feels victorious. Nevertheless, her discomfort is apparent.
“Maybe we should get out of here.”
Her relief is instant. “Yeah.”
I toss some cash on the table and lead her out. Remi is edgy, glancing around the parking lot. Is she in danger? Still being followed? Threatened? Is that the reason she hasn’t been venturing out of her house?
Whatever the reason, her behavior puts me on high alert.
We drive back to her place in silence. She’s still nervous, her fingers twisting in her lap while she stares out the window. I want to know what’s going on in her head so I can help, but I can’t force her to talk to me.
I reach over and take her hand, threading her fingers with mine in a show of silent support. She curls her hand around mine like it’s a lifeline, and gives me a grateful smile.
When we get back to her house, I kiss the back of her hand before releasing it. “Stay put. I’ll come around.”
“Sorry I wasn’t very good company tonight,” she says as I walk her to her door.
“No apology necessary. You’ve had a lot on your mind. But if you’re still up for it, I’d love to take you out. There’s a great restaurant right on the beach, five minutes from my house. What about Saturday night? Say seven?”
I hold my breath and wait.
She smiles, and to my great delight, it’s genuine. “Yes. I’d really like that. I’ll meet you there?”
“Whatever works for you.” My relief at her agreement is palpable, even if she does want to arrive separately.
I place a kiss against her forehead, letting my lips linger against her smooth skin. “Goodnight, Remi.”
“‘Night, Colton,” she says softly, crossing the threshold and disappearing inside.