15. Past, Present, Future
CHAPTER 15
PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE
COLIN
Stuart: Why did Meredith come back from Joanie’s smelling like gin and muttering something about your abs?
I groan at the text message, feeling instant anxiety that one of my best friends now knows. But if I’m going to get things back on track with Joanie, it means coming clean to the other people in my life. I was going to wait until I’d had a chance to talk to Joanie, but Stuart’s text opened the door. If I’m going to be brave about this, I have to step through it.
I think about it for a moment and quickly find some old pictures of me online. It’s not hard to do considering how many times my face and body were photographed. Adding a few pictures to our text thread, I respond.
Me: Joanie found out about this, and she’s rightfully pissed that I didn’t tell her.
Stuart: Whoa. I mean, not a shock that you were once a model. We all have histories. Did I ever tell you about that time I was a kids birthday party clown in college?
Me: I’m sorry, what?
Stuart: Never mind. Anyway, I get why Joanie was pissed if she had to find out on her own.
Me: Yep.
Stuart: What are you going to do about it? I have visions of us all double dating, and you guys fighting puts a real crimp in that.
Me: Sorry to ruin your plans. I’m working up to an apology.
Stuart: Work faster. Like for karaoke night next Friday. Will you take a request? I’d love to hear you sing Bette Midler.
Me: One thing at a time, but sure I can sing Better Midler.
Stuart: [thumbs up emoji]
A fraction of the tension I’ve been holding in my body seeps out. If my modeling is truly no big deal to Stuart, a guy who could have Drama Queen tattooed on his forehead and no one would be surprised, then how easy would it be to live completely out in the open? Not to hide my history.
I need to talk to Joanie before I allow myself to get too hopeful. Nothing else matters until I make things right with her. The memory of her disappointed, angry face has me breaking out in a cold sweat.
Fuck it, I can’t wait another second to see her. Gonzo’s probably had enough of my sulking. She spent much of this evening on my shoulder but abandoned me when my grumbles and sighs got louder. My own cat thinks I’m pitiful, and she’s not wrong.
I came home from The Base determined to give Joanie some space and come up with a plan to fix this clusterfuck I created. But it’s eleven-thirty at night and there’s no way I can make it until morning without us working this out. Acid climbs my throat at the thought of losing her.
I pull on my shoes and a jacket, grab my keys and phone, and head out the door. The walk to Joanie’s house gives me time to figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it, but all roads lead to, “I’m sorry.”
The streets are quiet this late on a weeknight. The fog swirls past me as it makes its way inland from the coast. I think about when we kissed under a streetlight in the fog. How Joanie’s romance writer brain couldn’t pass up an opportunity to experience the perfect setting for a kiss.
I brush my fingers against that streetlight a few steps from Joanie’s front door as if it can give me strength. I take a few deep breaths and knock, the light pouring out of the front windows fortifying my resolve.
A shadow passes by the peephole and the sound of the deadbolt disengaging is followed by a few seconds of silence, like Joanie needs a moment before she opens the door. My heart breaks a little more.
The door swings open, and even though I thought I had braced myself, I’m startled by the sudden movement. I’ve been on edge since this whole mess started. And whose fault is that, asshole?
The breath escapes my lungs in a pained rush. She’s so stupidly beautiful. Joanie’s standing there in her favorite hedgehog sleep pants and a faded California State University T-shirt. Her cheeks and nose are red, either from sleep or crying, and I’m either an asshole for waking her up or making her sad.
“Hey,” she says quietly. At least she didn’t slam the door in my face.
“Hey. Want to go for a walk?” My hands are shoved in my pockets. I’m dying to reach for her, but not yet.
As soon as she gives me a hesitant nod, I step through the door, go to her bedroom and grab her biggest, thickest sweater from the bottom dresser drawer, and a parka from the closet.
She watches me while I move around her house, her eyebrow quirked, and the edges of her mouth tipped up ever so slightly.
I slide the sweater over her head and suppress a laugh when she frowns at me, her hair partially covering her face. “It’s cold out.”
“Yes, Colin. I’m aware of the weather patterns in Wavecrest. It’s always cold and foggy at night this time of year.” She might be close to kicking me in the shins.
“Right. Shoes?”
“I can put my own shoes on.”
“Okay. I’ll just...” I motion towards her front door and stand there like a statue while she puts on socks and sneakers. I hate this awkwardness almost as much as I hate being the guy who caused it.
“This better be worth me leaving the house,” she says under her breath. Cranky Joanie would be endearing if I hadn’t put us in this uncomfortable situation.
We walk in silence until we reach the wooden stairs leading down to the beach. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get past this.
Time to be brave.
JOANIE
“You’re plotting my murder, aren’t you?” I ask as I follow him down the stairs. It’s absurdly dark, with only a few lamps lighting the way down to the beach. Oh well, guess my ass is ending up on a true crime podcast.
When we get to the bottom, he stares at me, and I want to poke at the corner of his mouth where the tiniest hint of a smile struggles to break free.
This is the perfect place to dump a body. If there weren’t a handful of people hanging around bonfires. This stretch of beach is popular year-round because the cops are lax about enforcing bonfire rules.
Okay, it’s a horrible place to dump a body.
Colin glances down at my feet and gets down on one knee in front of me.
Reader, the way I gasp...it’s mortifying. Because for the tiniest of moments I think Colin is about to ask me to marry him and it’s the silliest thing that’s ever crossed my brain.
He reaches for my foot, sets it on his knee and reties my shoelace. I want to laugh at myself. And maybe cry a little.
We’ve only started dating, for the love of all things insane. And we’re fighting . But my romance writer imagination took over for that tiny moment, forgetting that I’m mad at him.
My heart is still hammering. Colin has no idea what just stampeded through my brain and thank the stars for that.
Obviously, he brought me down to the beach to talk about the covers, not to do something stupid and propose stupid marriage, so my stupid pulse and my stupid breathing need to calm the fuck down.
But my rebellious body is stuck on what his fingers feel like through my thick socks. Warm and strong. I’d run my fingers through his hair if I wasn’t so stinking mad at him.
Before I can tell my libido to calm the fuck down, Colin drops my foot in the sand. He nods towards the south, away from the elephant seal preserve to the north.
With a little hesitation, I slip my hand in his. He stops and looks down at our linked hands like he can’t believe his luck. My heartbeat feels like it’s become synced with the sound of the waves as it pounds in my ears.
Even though he’s ridiculously taller than me, he walks slowly so I can keep up. I realize he’s been doing this since we started having lunch together, even before we started dating. Little considerations and gestures that make my heart squeeze with gratitude that we didn’t stop at friendship.
When we reach a spot about halfway between two bonfires, he turns towards the ocean and sits. I follow him down onto the sand and lean into his side and absorb his warmth. I deserve an award for not burying my nose in his shoulder and taking a big old whiff of his fresh cotton scent. Go, me.
He sucks in a deep, shaky breath and finally turns towards me. His eyes are shining in the dark, the distant fires dancing off his cheekbones and hair. “I’m so sorry, Joanie. I don’t know how else to say it, but I’m so sorry.”
I stare at him, seeing the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way he’s trying to blink back tears. “What are you sorry for?”
He huffs out a surprised laugh. “That’s my Shark, making me work for it.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I should’ve told you earlier, before we started dating. But I was a coward. I lied to myself when I started believing that it wouldn’t matter. That you wouldn’t think it was a big deal. I was more interested in protecting myself than being one hundred percent open with you.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me sooner? It could’ve been our cute little inside joke.”
He turns back to the ocean and starts chewing on his lip. After a few moments he finally speaks again. “I’ve wanted you since I first met you.” I suck in a breath at his admission. “And yeah, I knew exactly how we were connected, but I’d lived through people finding out what I used to do. It usually prevents any kind of deeper connection. I become the model guy. At my old software company a few people knew—I didn’t try to hide it, and I became ‘Colin, that dude who used to model.’ I’d go out for beers with coworkers and that’s how they’d introduce me. And I got sick of it.”
“I would’ve never done that to you.” I don’t think I would’ve, at least .
“Maybe not, but I had no way of knowing that, so I decided to protect myself.” He turns back to look at me. “But there’s more, Joanie. More about that period of my life that I’m not proud of. I’d like to be able to laugh off my cover model status, but it’s wrapped up in some pretty shitty memories.”
“Tell me…please.” My words are quiet, and I’m not sure he hears them over the sound of the waves and wind. He closes his eyes and points his face at the few stars we can see when there’s a break in the fog. Like he needs them to give him strength.
“I started modeling when I was in college, and I lost myself in it—I became someone I hated. Yeah, it started off as fun, but it quickly took over my life. When I wasn’t sleeping or in school, I was in the gym. Obsessed with every calorie that went into my body. Denying myself the food I really wanted or my body needed. More concerned with my looks than if I was the kind of person my parents raised.”
He swallows hard. “And while I paid attention to every calorie, I didn’t really care what kind of poison I was taking. I never became a full-blown addict, but I skated pretty close to the line. My gym buddies would swear that a steady diet of whatever pill they handed me would help with my workouts or add more muscle definition. I was such an idiot.
“Everything that was important in my life—my family, school, work—fell away. It went on for years. You’ve seen how many pictures of me are out there.”
I don’t say anything, but my fingers wrap around his wrist where he has his hands crossed over his knees. I want to tell him so much with my touch. That I’m here. That I’m listening. That I’m glad he’s healthy. That he’s perfect as he is now.
He gives me a grateful smile, like he knows all the words still locked in my throat.
“What made you stop?” I really want to ask what made him into this version of Colin.
“After I passed out at a photo shoot, I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d just come from a grueling session at the gym, I hadn’t eaten, I was still high, and my body said no more . I’d gotten my degree in computer science a few years before that...so I cleaned myself up, went to therapy, and pivoted. The kicker is, I was destroying my body and only making a few hundred dollars each photo session. A thousand if I was lucky. Nothing compared to runway or high-fashion models. It wasn’t worth it anymore. It wouldn’t have been worth any amount of money.”
“I’m glad you got out when you needed to.” Tears prickle the back of my eyes as I think about the road he was on and what could’ve happened if he kept going. I swallow hard and his eyes find mine. I gasp at what I see there. His gaze is filled with relief, and an intensity that brings every squishy emotion to the surface.
I don’t realize a tear has escaped until he reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheek. I lean into the roughness of his palm, and he lets out a bone-deep sigh. His body deflates with all the tension that he releases.
“Joanie.” He swallows hard, his voice thick with emotion. “Joanie, I’m so sorry I kept it from you. I wanted to be...” He pauses, hunting for the right words. “I wanted to be a normal, baggage-free guy when we started getting to know each other. Not Colin the model .”
I let out a small laugh. “Pipes, there’s nothing ‘normal’ about you, and I mean that in the best way.” My chest fills with a vibrating warmth. “You can’t hide the guy you are. You’re beautiful.” He ducks his head. “No, don’t you hide from me. You’re beautiful—more beautiful than you were on those covers. Gorgeous. Handsome. Whatever you want to call it. But it’s not about your criminal cheekbones or those alien eyes of yours. I see you, Colin.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat.
“I see you and you see me—that’s the best part of us. Since you, I haven’t tried to be anyone but myself. Still cringe, still weird. But me . I’m so grateful for that, I can’t even put it into words. You…you drowned out that voice in my head telling me I was too loud or too much. You, Colin…you did that.” My voice cracks on those last words.
“I see the kind of man you are. You’re one of the best people I know. Your default setting is kindness. You’re gentle...except when I don’t want you to be. ”
He huffs out a laugh and wipes a tear from my cheek. I lean into his touch.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me—I do. But don’t ever do that again.” He nods, holding my gaze. He opens his mouth to say something, but I’m not done. “Yeah, maybe you would’ve become Colin the model in my head, but I love you so much that there’s no way we would’ve ended there. I wouldn’t have let us.”
I can see him trying to hold back tears, but one escapes down into his beard, and he sniffles.
“God, Joanie. I’m so grateful for you.” His voice is rough and low as he strokes a hand through his salt and pepper beard. “It’s taken me this long to find someone like you...to find you , and the idea that I almost lost...” His voice catches on the last word.
I can’t take his sadness anymore so I crawl into his lap and straddle him. My knees dig into the cold sand, but I don’t care. We’ll warm up later. His hands grip tight to my thick jacket, but I wish I could feel them on my skin.
“Tell me again,” he whispers.
“No, it’s your turn.”
“Brat.” He huffs out a laugh. I watch as the smile drops from his face, and he fights back more tears. “Joanie ‘Shark’ Ferrell, I love you with everything I have. Full stop. Even when you’re at your most caffeinated and your most cranky.”
“I’m never cranky.”
“Right. Sure. I love how your mind finds romance in everything. I will read your stories for as long as you write them, and I promise to be your partner in crime.”
“When you say crime...”
“Just tell me where to bury the bodies.”
I sigh. “That’s the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”
His arms squeeze around me, and he buries his face in my neck. “I’m going to marry you someday, Shark. Brace yourself.” The cold wind that whips around us has nothing on the warmth that floods my body when he says those words.
I pull back so I can see him. “Okay.” I tug on his beard until his lips meet mine, and we get lost in the best kiss I’ve ever had.
Wrapped in his duvet and all the blankets in his house, I’m finally warm, except for the tip of my nose. But it’s not the blankets, it’s the man whose chest I’m draped across.
After a hurried walk back from the beach, two mugs of cocoa, and the slowest, sweetest fuck, Colin and I lay in his bed. I swirl my fingers through the hair on his belly, cuddling tightly into the one arm he has wrapped around me.
We ended up at his house so I could get some good Gonzo snuggle time. I missed her the last couple of days. She doesn’t know it, but she’s my cat now.
Between slow kisses, we’ve been talking quietly about his past. I can see it’s not easy for him, but he’s been open with me.
“Is it strange to see yourself on covers?”
I trace his small smile with the tip of my finger.
“The covers aren’t the strangest places my pictures ended up. There are some stock pics of me with my shirt fully buttoned.” He chuckles, making me bounce a little on his chest.
“My sister’s company redid their website, and I’m now on their About Us page in a pic of happy people in a work meeting. My sister almost asked them to change it, but it’s become an inside joke for us.”
“Did you ever end up in a hemorrhoid cream ad?”
He laughs. “Your brain...I swear. No, but there’s a pic of me sniffing my armpit in a men’s deodorant ad.”
“When did you know you were one of my cover models?” It’s a loaded question since it touches on the fact that he knew way before I did.
He closes his eyes for a moment. “When you first joined The Base.” He swallows heavily. “That’s when I read all your books.”
“Shut the front fucking door—I thought it was only some. Do you have copies of all the books you’ve been on?”
He shakes his head. “I used to have some, but I gave away most of them. I’ve been on so many covers there’s no way I’d be able to own them all.” And then he looks at me. Like... looks at me. I wonder if the photographers saw what I see. Aside from his stupidly handsome looks, did they see his warmth? His sense of humor? His kindness? Or was he simply a pretty face with sculpted abs who could give good smolder?
On many of those covers his face looked cruel...all sharp angles and a sneer on his perfect mouth. But that version of Colin doesn’t jive with the man I know. The man I fell for.
“I’ve seen the pictures of your family—you come from some freakishly good-looking parents.” I point a finger at his face like it’s evidence.
He’s blushing. The tips of his ears are pink where they poke out through his long hair. Adorable is not a word I’d normally use for Colin...but this shy version of him can’t be described any other way. And I’m a writer who’s supposed to be good with words.
“My mom’s stunning. So is my sister. My dad’s got his own brand of good looks.” The first time I saw a picture of his mom, dad, and sister I thought Colin had forgotten to take the placeholder picture out of the frame.
I sigh. “I’m glad I finally know.”
His shoulders tense for a second. “You’re going to get sick of my apologies, but for what it’s worth, I promise never to hide anything from you again.”
“Except maybe a ring,” I say brightly.
The biggest, brightest smile breaks across his face, and I suck in a breath. My brain is having a hard time keeping up with my heart, and I can’t quite believe that he’s mine. That he loves me, and I love him.
“Yeah, Shark, except a ring.”
The next morning we both decide to skip work—that’s the beauty of being our own bosses. Fuck the deadlines, I’m not leaving this house for the next twenty-four hours. No writing will happen while we’re on the couch snuggling. That’s the big plan for today...snuggling. And there’s nobody better than Colin and Gonzo.
After he feeds me breakfast, we’re standing in the kitchen cleaning up. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heart settles something deep inside me.
He runs his hand slowly up and down my back, and my toes curl inside the socks I borrowed from him. “Joanie. My Joanie. Do you remember what you said the first time I met you when you started at The Base?” I feel his lips press into the top of my head.
“I don’t remember exactly, but I remember thinking you were the most interesting man I’d ever seen, and that you looked familiar.”
His hands continue to make slow circles on my back. “You stuck out your hand and said, ‘Hi, I’m Joanie and I write kissing books. Apologies in advance for what you’re going to hear from my side of the desk.’ Then you plopped your cute butt in a seat, opened your laptop, and started writing something. You muttered to yourself the whole time.”
“Sounds like me.”
“I was so charmed. I had never been charmed by someone, especially someone I had just met. You sparkle, Joanie—did you know that? Absolutely sparkle. And I remember thinking to myself, ‘If you play your cards right, asshole, you can be in her orbit.’ I wanted to get to know you—really know you. But I thought I had to keep myself back because you could’ve so easily figured out who I was. And I desperately wanted to be just Colin .” I smile at the idea that there’s anything just about him.
“I remember getting a weird urge to start writing mountain men romance. I felt inspired.” Colin’s chest rumbles with a laugh.
We stand there, quietly holding each other, and I marvel at how unlocked I feel. Like the future is wide open if we’re by each other’s sides.
I go up on my toes and kiss him. Just him. Just me.