Author: Nyrae Dawn

My breath catches. It’s the most amazing thing he’s said to me. Maybe that anyone has ever said to me. Still, it means so much more coming from him.

“I—”

“—Chey?” The door pushes open and Gregory’s there.

Colt tenses against me.

“Is there a reason you’re coming into my bedroom?” I ask Gregory.

He’s not looking at me though. His eyes are hard on Colt. “This is her mom’s service, if you didn’t notice. You could wait to take advantage of her until later, don’t you think?”

I swear I feel Colt’s body overheat. “Jealous I can take care of her better than you? It’s okay, Pretty Boy, I’ve kicked your ass more than once, it’s only natural I steal your girl too.”

Colt’s words feel like a slap across my face. I know they’re just to piss Gregory off, but they hit every button inside me that I don’t like pressed.

“Fuck you.” Gregory steps into the room and Colt moves toward him.

“Excuse me? You didn’t steal me from anyone.” I’m shaking now. Colt doesn’t turn around to look at me. Gregory pretends I’m not there too.

“Why don’t you get out of here so we can finish where we left off?” Colt says. “I don’t feel like fucking with you today.”

There’s a fist around my throat, tightening and tightening. I don’t know why I’m freaking out, but I hate the things Colt is saying, hate that Gregory is here and then the coffin—that big black box her bones are probably lost in flashes through my head.

I gasp. Colt and Gregory are muffled voices in the background. I turn away from them, not wanting to let myself lose it. Why am I losing it? My vision blurs. I can’t catch my breath. Bones. Coffin.

My feet tangle and then arms are there. The door slams and I’m on the floor in someone’s lap.

“Shh. It’s okay. Relax. You’re good. We’re good.”

A hand runs through my hair. Lips press to my forehead.

“You’re good. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that shit today. Take a deep breath.”

I fight through the panic, following Colt’s voice.

I find his blue eyes. His sad lips. Gregory.

I struggle to get out of Colt’s hold.

“He’s gone. I locked the door. It’s okay.”

Now I’m back to me and the spell is broken. I get out of his lap and stand up. I open my mouth to tell him not to treat me like a game of tug-o-war, but he stops me. “I’m not good at this stuff. I don’t do this stuff. I react and that’s what I did. It was the wrong thing to do.”

I can’t say anything to his apology, because I know this isn’t what he signed up for but he’s here and he’s doing it and it’s not like I’m perfect either.

“It’s not even him as much as what you said. Don’t do it again.” I straighten my clothes and finger comb my hair. “We better go downstairs.”

Colt stops me before I can walk away. “Do you take anything? For the panic attacks?”

I shake my head. Not anymore. “I don’t need medication. I’ve handled them for years. I’d be fine if everyone would just leave me the hell alone.”

But I’m not fine. He’s not fine either.

We make it through the rest of the day. Colt is always there, but we don’t touch. It’s not the same as it was before the freak out.

When I pull up in front of his house, I sit there, not sure what to do.

“Come in with me,” he says. He didn’t ask and I’m grateful for it.

I turn off the car and go inside. We head straight for Colt’s room.

“I hate this dress,” I say when we get to his room. He opens his drawer and tosses a t-shirt at me. I’m so shocked I almost miss it.

Colt starts to undress first. He lies his slacks on a chair and then his shirt. I figure I need to start doing the same thing so I take my dress off, pantyhose and then slip on his shirt.

What are we doing? Usually he’s undressing me, not giving me clothes to wear.

“Hit the light, would ya?” he says before climbing into bed in camo boxer-briefs.

“You’re camouflaged. How will I find you?” I tease and he cracks a smile.

“I don’t think you can miss me.”

I turn off the light and get into bed wearing my panties and Colt’s t-shirt. I wait for him to kiss me. Or to lick or bite my neck. He likes using his tongue and teeth.

Instead he pulls me to him, my back to his chest. His arm goes around my waist and it fits so perfectly there.

“I fucked up,” he says again. “That shouldn’t have gone down earlier.”

His words aren’t expected, but somehow they’re what I need. “I know. It’s okay.” Pause, and then, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Colt squeezes me tighter. Kisses my hair. “It’s easier to hide in the dark…but easier to let go too.”

And I know he’s hiding. Doesn’t want me to see him when he says stuff like that. Can’t be that close. Me? I’m letting go. Finally, a tear slips from my eye. I wipe it away and go to sleep.

~CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE~

Colt

I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Cheyenne’s car messing with the stereo. It’s the first day I’ve seen her since her mom’s service and I’m really fucking hoping we’re not going to have this huge ass conversation like girls like to have. Yeah she stayed and yeah we didn’t have sex. We both know what happened—or that nothing happened. The end.

“You have shitty music,” I tell her. When I resort to the radio, you know my options are limited.

She shrugs. “I’m not all that into music.”

This surprises me. “You dance.”

“Yeah and I listen to music for dancing. When music is on I’m thinking about my body and how to move and it makes me want to do more than just sit around.”

I look at her and grin. “I’m thinking about your body and how it moves too.”

She quickly glances at me. “I’m kind of impossible not to think about.”

I laugh because it’s true and she’s probably the only woman I know who would have the balls to say it.

“Or touch.” I reach over and slide my hand up her leg. Unfortunately she’s wearing jeans, but I let my hand creep higher.

“You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the point.” I never expected to have fun with her like this. I don’t have fun with anyone like this, but just like it’s hard not to think about her body, it’s hard not to enjoy her too. Yeah she pisses me off, but that kind of makes it better.

And then because we’re almost to the party and it’s only been a few days since she buried her mom, I ask. “You sure you’re cool with going out?”

Again she looks over at me. I can’t see her real well because it’s dark, but I know her eyes are on me. “Why Colt, one would think you’re a nice guy.”

Her comment annoys me a little. Not because I think I’m this nice guy, but because she’s always deflecting shit. She’s had a lot go down lately. I’ve seen her when she breaks and know she’s not doing as well as she wants people to think. Or maybe as good as she thinks.

But fuck. That’s what I’m supposed to be. A distraction. I knew that going into it and know it now so I don’t know what the hell my problem is with it. Maybe it’s because I’m in the same boat.

“We both know I’m not a nice guy. And we both know there’s a lot of shit in your head too. That’s why I’m asking. If you don’t want to answer, tell me you don’t. Don’t play me.”

“I don’t want to answer.” We’re quiet for a few minutes. I’m feeling way more pissed than I have a right to be. Finally she speaks. “It’s hard. I’m trying to deal. Distractions help. Fun helps. You…help.” The last part I can tell she didn’t want to say.

Did I want to hear it? I don’t know. “Good.”

“How’s your mom?”

Fuck. Why did I start this? I just gave her shit so it’s not like I can’t answer her now. “The same…how else? There’s nowhere to go, but down.”

“You never—”

“You saw her, Chey. There’s no hope. She stopped treatment. Hospice has been involved. We both know what’s going to happen.” The words hurt coming out. I want to close my mouth. Trap them in, but it won’t make things any different.

Now it’s her hand that’s on my leg. “So…tonight… When we get home… Do you wanna?” There’s laughter in her voice.

“Fuck yeah I wanna.”

We pull up at the house for the party. It’s out of the way and on property and I can see the bonfire out back already.

I’m about to open the door when Chey asks, “What’s the deal with you and Gregory?”

I hit the interior light. “He’s a prick?”

“Nice try.”

I shrug. “That’s basically it. I fucking hate guys like him. Thinks he can get away with whatever he wants. We were out one night and we caught him fucking around with this kid. It was bullshit frat stuff, but they had the kid shitting his pants he was so scared. Him and his friends were making him go in and steal something. They threatened him. We kicked his ass. He didn’t like having his ass kicked and I liked doing it.”

When my eyes hit hers she has that lost girl look. No, not the lost look, but the one that says she’s thinking all sorts of things women don’t usually think when looking at me. “Don’t do that. It’s not a big deal,” I say.

She gets a huge smile on her face. A cocky one that says I’m not going to like what she says.

“Don’t worry, Colt. I won’t tell anyone that you’re really quite noble.”

She gets out of the car and slams the door, giving me no choice but to get out with her.

***

We’re sitting around a big ass fire, beer in hand. There’s about forty people out here. More in the house. None of Cheyenne’s pretty boys, so it’s more kickback than the frat parties on campus.

She’s sitting on my lap, my arm wrapped round her waist. Adrian’s sitting next to me with whatever girl he’s boning this week. He keeps giving me that look like he did in the kitchen that night. Like he knows or feels something else going on than is really here.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say when he winks at me.

“Huh?” Cheyenne asks.

“Nothing.” I bite her shoulder softly instead of playing Adrian’s game.

“Ah, so you’re the new flavor of the week. He’s good, isn’t he?” I look up to see Deena standing in front of us. I really didn’t want to do this shit and hoped she wasn’t here. I know she doesn’t want me. She just wanted to screw around like I did, but I also know she’s the kind of girl who wants to be on top. Who wants to show everyone she doesn’t give a shit and that she’s going to use Cheyenne to do it.

“Who are—” Cheyenne says at the same time I say, “Deena.”

I feel Chey tense, but she doesn’t move off my lap.

“Stop playing games, D. No one wants to hear it.”

Adrian laughs beside me.

“She can’t speak for herself?” Deena adds.

I know this can’t end well. Deena’s not one to back down and Cheyenne doesn’t take people’s shit.

“Actually she can,” Chey says. “And maybe you were only around for a week, but I’ve been here longer than that. It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, either.”