Chapter 26
KOLTON
I glance inside the large windows of Sass and Style.
Even though it’s near closing, the place is bustling.
Shay is pulling out a duvet for a woman, a few couples are milling around, the line at the cash register is three deep, and someone is letting their kid run around the place.
The young boy is moving things on the shelves, things Shay will have to fix later.
I push through the door and amble through the space, listening as Shay explains the washing instructions for the purple comforter in her hand.
The lady at the register must be the owner, Angela.
Shay has mentioned her bright red hair, and the fact that she’s been accommodating these past weeks since Shay’s had to give up hours.
With my back to Shay, I glance at a wonky blue bowl on the square dining table, the ceramic uneven but funky.
A masterpiece compared to Jackson’s ugly-ass pottery.
An artist, my kid is not.
I’m about to pick the piece up when my scalp tingles, my body always attuned to a certain woman’s attention. I don’t turn around. I wait and run my fingers over the bowl until heat radiates behind me.
Shay.
“That imaginary kiss of yours,” she says, “has left me brain-dead for my shift. You should come with a warning label.”
Instead of turning, I slide a hand behind me to her hip. “I’ll come however and whenever you’d like. And that imaginary kiss has nothing on the real thing.”
“I wouldn’t remember.”
A phone rings as the last customer in line files off. Angela picks it up, cradling the handset with her shoulder.
I spin, needing to see each shade of green and brown in Shay’s hazel eyes. “I do. I remember every detail. But I think this time will be even better.” Man, do I need to get her out of here, get her alone, and finally kiss her senseless. “You ready to head out soon?”
“Shay,” Angela calls, “we need to talk.”
“Okay…” Shay draws out the word, a frown puckering her brow. Then to me, “I’ll meet you outside.”
I stay where I am, not liking her boss’s concerned tone.
Shay fists her hands and hesitantly approaches Angela, as if preparing for bad news.
The women exchange whispered words I can’t hear.
With each passing second, Shay’s posture shrinks.
Her arms gesture as if she’s pleading. There’s one last woman still milling around, the one with the rambunctious son.
I cringe as he reaches for what looks like an expensive vase on a coffee table.
“That’s a fragile piece.” At Angela’s stern tone, the boy’s mother scolds him to put it down. Angela turns back to Shay. “I’m sorry,” she says, louder now. “I wish I could help you out, I really do, but I’m strapped. I’ll need your key before you leave.”
I can almost hear Shay swallow. “Okay. I’ll get it from my purse. And Angela”—her voice breaks—“thanks for trying.”
Angela offers her a sad smile and then catches my eye. “I assume you’re waiting for Shay?”
I nod, but Shay doesn’t glance my way.
The mother and son leave while I wait, my jaw tensing with each passing second.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Shay just lost her job.
Did she screw up? Did something bad go down with a customer?
I’ve been here three weeks, giving her PEZ and videos and flirting with her, not a clue to what’s really going on in her life.
Shay emerges with her purse and walks like she’s wading through molasses, each step dragging. I wait for her to acknowledge me, but she doesn’t. She returns her key, shares a few more words with Angela, then she leaves the store.
I hurry after her and push outside. She’s barely made it a few steps.
Her back is to me, her right hand on the brick wall past the shop as if she needs it for support.
A car honks, brakes screech, and a man bumps my shoulder as he strides past me, but it’s the slump of Shay’s shoulders that nearly knocks me over.
I come up behind her and loop my arm around her waist. “I’ve got you, Shay. Whatever this is, we’ll work it out.”
She falls into me, her spine curved into my chest. She rests her head against my jaw. “I thought I could do it on my own, and now it’s all fucked. I’ll have to grovel to Lily, or maybe I should just quit and go home. I’m such a failure.”
“The last thing you are, Shay, is a failure.” I smooth my hand down her arm. “Tell me what happened.”
She slumps lower. “I’m about to be evicted, and I just lost my paycheck.”
Evicted? Jesus. “I can give you the money. Or a loan, if it makes you feel better. I’m not letting you sleep on the street.”
I can’t see her face, but her whole body tenses. “I don’t want your charity, Kolton. Lily will help me if I ask. I just don’t want to put her in that position. I don’t want it to affect our friendship. Money does weird things sometimes.”
No shit. The way women used to get when they found out what I do always altered the dynamic, and Sawyer no longer speaks to a cousin who borrowed money for some bullshit next-big-thing. I’d go it alone, too, for as long as possible before asking friends for cash.
I latch my arm tighter around her. “Come to my place tonight. We’ll put our heads together and figure this out.”
She sags against me, whatever fight she had in her gone. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You know how we are when we’re together. There won’t be much talking, and I’m drowning here.”
I spin her around and cup her cheeks. “I won’t lie to you, Shay. I want you in my bed. I want you under me, over me, next to me. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone, but if we need to put that on hold while we make sure you get things sorted, then we will. Just don’t shut down on me.”
She studies a spot over my shoulder. “There’s so much for me to figure out. Maybe we aren’t meant to be. Maybe the timing will always be wrong.”
Yep, shutting down.
Unfortunately for her, Shay pushing back at me ignites my inner gladiator.
I walk until her back is pressed to the wall and plant my hands on the rough brick, caging her.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I get why you didn’t ask Lily for help.
I’d have to be pretty fucked to ask my friends for money.
What I do know is how I feel. Seeing you upset doesn’t sit well.
I want to be here for you now. I want to be in your life, even if it’s just for the summer, but only if you feel the same.
If you don’t, now’s the time to tell me.
Tell me to my face that you don’t feel every little thing I feel.
That you don’t think about me when I’m not around.
That you haven’t lost minutes, hours, days reliving our time in Aspen.
Tell me that, and I’ll walk away. I’ll swap places with Sawyer and leave Toronto, so you can work with him on the space…
after you’ve sorted out this apartment thing.
” Because there’s no way in hell I’d leave her in the lurch, but I know she doesn’t want me to go.
We’re so close, my chest nearly grazing hers. I can’t stop from pressing closer. Closer still.
“Tell me, Shay. Say the words.”
No words. Only breaths. Deeper. Faster. Her breasts brush against my chest.
“Tell me,” I say again.
She doesn’t speak. Not one syllable. I see everything in her eyes, but I need to hear the words.
Then she whispers, “Don’t go.”
Her hands curl into my hips, and I’m done for. I press my lips to hers before she can take the admission back, before we’re back to walls between us. Her tongue slides against mine, both of us groaning at the contact. She grips me tighter, and I thread my fingers through her hair.
Bodies flush, we move against each other, hungry hands searching for more. Her warmth bleeds into me, through me, until I have to push away, panting. “Fuck.”
She blinks repeatedly. “Yeah.”
Behind me, boots smack the pavement, voices rise and fall—the sounds of the city rushing back.
I can barely look at her swollen lips. Barely maintain the small distance between us in this very public place.
If we were back in Aspen, I’d yank her into the nearest public bathroom or dark alley, unable to wait a second longer to be inside her.
But this isn’t Aspen. Not even close.
The next time I have Shay it will be slow. Deliberate. Not an inch of her left unexplored or unseen. “Come to my place so we can talk this out,” I ask, gruff.
Dazed, she nods. “Give me your address. I’ll go home and change, then I’ll meet you there.” Her fingers float to her mouth, as if checking it’s still intact.
Following the line of her finger, I drag my thumb across her bottom lip. Because I can. Because, finally, she won’t push me away.
I kiss her once, softly, then text her my address and walk away before I pin her back against that wall.