6 | Thinkin back
COLTON
Clementine shakes off my hand, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn’t run away, though, so I count that as a win.
“What?” she snaps.
I sit down on the porch swing, tapping the seat next to me. “Sit.”
She doesn’t move. Fine.
“What Tessa said—is that true?”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I clench my jaw, trying to keep calm. “About your virginity, Tiny. Were you a virgin when we…”
Clementine looks away. “Whatever, Colton. Virginity is a social construct anyway. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!” I get to my feet, stalking closer to her. “Christ, Clementine. If I’d known—I thought you and Sawyer…” My sentence falls flat. There’s a deep, twisting sensation inside my chest.
“We did,” she hisses. “Stuff. Not everything. Look, I don’t want to do this here.” She turns around, stomping down the steps.
“Clementine.” I stride after her, catching up and backing her into the porch railing, studying her face as I cage her in with my arms.
I can’t believe I didn’t know. It’s worse that I’m remembering now—like it’s playing in crystal-clear detail behind my eyes.
Her in my truck bed, the moonlight cutting across that pretty face. She was so goddamn shy but so eager. Clutching at my shirt, whispering my name like she’d die if I stopped.
I remember how tight she was—I feel sick.
She winced when I pushed into her the first time. I thought—hell, I don’t know what I thought. That she was nervous? That it was because of our size difference?
Clementine shifts between my arms, that defiant expression still on her face.
“Stop doing that,” she murmurs. “Stop making this into a big deal.”
“God damnit, Clementine, it is a big deal!”
She balls her hands into fists. “Yeah? Would you not have done it if I told you beforehand?”
“I would’ve treated you different! Made it better for you.” I swallow, studying her face. “Did I—did it hurt?”
Her face flickers with a dozen emotions—confusion, shame, something soft. “It… Listen. I don’t need you to go all chivalrous on me, okay? I was a grown woman. I knew what I was doing.”
I run my hand through my hair, sighing. “I don’t know what to say right now.”
Clementine ducks out from between my arms and stomps down the pebble path. I don’t even know where she thinks she’s going—Wells drove her here.
She seems to realize it the same second I do, pausing mid-step. I save her the embarrassment of having to turn around and ask for a ride. “Come on then, I’ll drive you.”
She’s already stomping toward my truck. “Whatever.”
----
CLEMENTINE
I climb into the passenger seat, kicking off my mud-caked sneakers and tucking my legs under me.
“We need to get you some boots,” Colt murmurs, entering the car.
“We don’t need to get me anything,” I retort. “I’m not staying.”
He ignores me. “Seatbelt.”
I roll my eyes, but buckle in anyway. Colt shifts the truck into gear, and we crunch down the driveway.
“Clem,” he says after a while, and he sounds so pleading I make the mistake of sparing him a glance. God, dat gorgeous, tortured face of his.
I hold up a hand. “I’ll save you the trouble.” I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to answer all the questions he wants to ask.
“I was never saving myself for marriage, okay? I would’ve probably slept with Sawyer years prior if he hadn’t acted like it was such a big deal. He wanted things to be perfect—I just wanted to get on with it.”
Colton pales, his knuckles blanching as he grips the steering wheel. “You just wanted to get it over with?”
It takes a second before I pick up on what he’s concluding. “No—God, no, Colton. I didn’t use you to pop my cherry. And it’s not like Tessa said—Sawyer and I had been broken up for a while before you and I even…” I sigh. “This is not how I wanted you to find out.”
“Did you want me to find out?”
“Ideally not, I guess.”
His knuckles flex on the wheel. “I was so rough with you.” His voice is low—pained.
“You weren’t, Colt,” I assure him. “You were perfect. I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about my first time.”
“I would.” His jaw works, the muscle ticking as he clenches his teeth.
“Well, we can’t,” I snap. “And there are definitely things that happened between us that I would have changed—things way bigger than the way I lost my virginity. But let’s not talk about those, right?! Let’s just stuff that deep down with everything else that was left unsaid.”
His grip on the wheel tightens, leather creaking under his palms. “You think it was easy for me? Watchin’ you drive off without so much as a look back?”
I let out a bitter laugh, folding my arms. “Don’t pretend you cared, Colton. You didn’t exactly run after me.”
“I couldn’t, Clem.” His voice is maddeningly even, all solid edges and truth. “With my dad gone, the ranch on my shoulders… I was twenty-four years old and drownin’.”
I swallow. “Yeah, well. You could’ve at least called.”
“So could you.”
The words hang between us like smoke. I didn’t call. I just followed my dad out to the city and never looked back. I got my heart torn to pieces in more ways than one, and decided to bury it all in the past.
Colton turns up my aunt’s driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. When he parks, he doesn’t look at me. Just says, quiet as a whisper, “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, Tiny.”
I bite my lip. “I’m sorry too. But it was just a summer fling anyway—let’s just forget about it.”
His door groans open, and by the time I climb out, he’s already circling the hood. I mean to slip past, but he steps in, close enough that the scent of leather and cedar nearly knocks me sideways.
“I’ve been tryin’ to forget for seven years, Clementine,” he says, calm as ever, “but I can’t.” He braces one palm against the truck, caging me in without touching me. “Tell me the truth. Did you think about me at all?”
“No,” I lie, pressing myself against the cool metal of the truck behind me.
His eyes catch mine, steady as steel. “Don’t you lie to me, Clementine.”
I squirm. “Whatever.” I try to duck, but he shifts, blocking me with ease.
I shove at his chest, weak and angry. “I’m not gonna come crawling back to you just because you poison my mind with your stupid drawl and those awful eyes of yours.”
His smirk is slow, cutting, full of cowboy arrogance. “I don’t expect you to crawl just yet, darlin’.”
He steps closer, chest brushing mine, and I nearly melt at the heat of his breath against my cheek. “You seein’ someone back in the city?”
I freeze, heart banging against my ribs, trying to decide on whether or not I should lie. “Not right now,” I murmur.
His mouth curves in a slow, dangerous smile. “Good. Then let me take you out.”
I scoff, twisting out of his hold. “Sure, yeah. Okay.” I stomp toward my aunt’s porch.
“I’ll be here at seven,” he calls, steady as a heartbeat. “Wear somethin’ pretty for me.”
I roll my eyes, shoving the key in the lock. “You wear something pretty. I’m going swimming with my cousins.” I peel off his flannel and I toss it over the railing. “Thanks for the ride, cowboy. Now leave me alone.”
There’s fire banked behind his eyes, a slow, hot burn, and it only makes my pulse trip harder. “Alright,” he drawls. “I’ll give you time if you need it. You know where to find me when you’re ready.”
“Gotta love a delusional cowboy’s confidence. Bye, Colton.”
I expect him to stalk off, slam his truck door loud enough to make his point. Instead, his boots thud against the steps behind me—one, two—and suddenly he’s there, hand braced above my head on the doorframe.
Before I can catch my breath, he dips, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. His voice is whiskey-smooth and dangerous.
“You can tell me off all you want, Tiny. But don’t you lie to yourself.”
A shiver ripples down my spine, my thighs clenching at their own accord.
Colton’s nose skims my temple, his breath fanning my forehead. “Do you think about it? That night in my truck bed? The field, when you begged me not to stop?” His lips brush my skin, almost a kiss. “Or behind the barn, your legs wrapped tight around me?”
My chest heaves, every nerve lit raw.
“Because I do,” he rasps, his hips pressing forward, and I feel his length, rock hard against my belly. His mouth ghosts mine, so close it hurts. My knees buckle, and his low groan rumbles through his chest. “And I think you do too.”
Then, just like that, he eases back. Cool air rushes between us, and I’m left gripping the doorframe to keep from collapsing.
Colton settles his hat back on with that maddening calm, tipping it forward. “See you around, Tiny.”
And then he’s striding off, truck door slamming behind him, engine growling to life.
I stay frozen in the doorway, heart in my throat, wet heat pooling between my thighs. Because damn him—he’s right. I think about it too.
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Do you want to know what that first time was like? Should we toss in a little flashback? ??????