Colton (Found by You Book 7)

by Victoria H. Smith

  On my way back to the front door, I stood, giving the apartment one last once-over. True, this place sucked, but it was home. It had been my home since I got to LA, and there was some sentimental value there. I flicked off the light, choosing to let nature take its course as I sought out other options. After this incident, it was probably time to seek out other options for living arrangements. I thought about that as I made my way out the door, but all thoughts left at the sight of an empty Jetta. The boxes in the front seat and back had all been removed.

  I ran down the walk instantly, but a set of back muscles under a red t-shirt distracted me—mostly because the owner was the one who’d swiped my stuff.

  His arms full, Colton was making a rotation from my Jetta to what I now discovered he drove here in. The luxury Beamer he purchased just earlier this year. He’d been excited about all the interest he had from other teams while he was coming to the end of his current contract. He was now filling that Beamer with my stuff, and I had no idea why.

  I raced over. “What are you doing?” My eyes bugged out at all the boxes he’d gotten in while I’d been away.

  Ignoring me, he hunkered down and grabbed the last box. “Getting your stuff. You’re coming to live with me.”

  The laugh coughed out of my throat. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, securing the last box. “Car space is pretty tight, but I’ll send Tommy to get the rest of your stuff.”

  He was sending Tommy. My Tommy to get my stuff. I shook my head. “Colton. I am not living with you.”

  Rising up, he actually took a moment to talk to me, laying his arm on the top of the vehicle. “Really? Because I think your stuff in my car means you are.”

  He bounced his eyebrows once at me, then left me, jaw slack, to move around his vehicle. After a moment, he noticed I wasn’t closing his door with my stuff inside. Flicking the seat up, I wriggled one of the small boxes out of the back.

  He sighed. “Cami…”

  I stood with a huff. “I’m not living with you.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re staying with me until your apartment is fixed.”

  I lowered the box to the ground. Even small, it was kind of heavy. “That’s a technicality, and like I told you, I’ve made other arrangements.”

  “Yeah, at a hotel whose cooking options probably don’t go that far past a microwave and enough closet space to hold maybe one of your boxes.”

  How did he know?

  “I’ve got the space,” he continued. “I’ve got plenty of space, and you know that. Not to mention, I won’t charge you. You won’t have to give me a dime. Call it a friend helping a friend.”

  But we weren’t friends. He was my boss, and that was the problem. I huffed. “I work for you. It would be completely inappropriate.”

  His grin went wiry. “Irene works for me, and she lives with me.”

  My face fell. “Your housekeeper doesn’t count, and she has a family she goes home to on the weekends.” And she was mature in age, and he was, well, not. I’d constantly be worried what I’d wear and how to act around him, or worried if he was walking around naked.

  Yeah, I was not living with him. “I can’t just do what I want if I’m worried about what you’re doing.”

  “You won’t be on the clock if you stay.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” I pressed my hands to my brow, exhausted with both him and the conversation.

  His face went serious. “What exactly do you mean then?”

  “What if I want to walk around… I don’t know. In my underwear or something?”

  He smiled again. “I won’t stop you from doing that.”

  I bet he wouldn’t. Exasperated, I grabbed my box, but Colton was out in the street before I could make it back to my Jetta. His hands covered mine, and I stopped, letting him hold me there.

  Those lips lifted. “I was joking, Cami. But not about you doing what you want to do. We’ll make house rules, stay in separate wings.”

  Because, yes, he did have those.

  “We’ll make this work,” he said, reaching around my fingers and to my wrist when he squeezed. He took the box from me again. “I’ll respect you,” he went on. “I’ll respect your privacy and whatever you need to feel comfortable. You won’t have to change your routine. I have no intention to either.”

  Another reason this was a bad idea, his routine. I was already forced to submit to the extent of his lifestyle, aka women and lots of them. I was on the clock and saw him with his daily harem, and frankly, I didn’t want to see all that up close and personal.

  On the other hand, what he said sounded like such a sweet deal. No rent. Privacy…

  I breathed, and he lowered, finding my eyes.

  “You’re thinking about it?”

  And only thinking. I had some terms. “I do need that privacy.”

  “And you’ll have that,” he agreed. “I promise.”

  I chewed my lip. “And… I’d like there to be no parties. At least not every week.” I amended the statement as the first sounded a bit restricting. He was giving me freedom, and in return, I was taking away his, and that didn’t seem fair.

  “I can do… one a month?”

  I didn’t plan on staying with him that long, but in the case I did, one a month was reasonable. But I had one more thing.

  I swallowed. “I don’t mind alcohol, but no more drugs. At least not on your end.”

  With that, I literally felt the air seep. It got tense, but I felt it needed to be said. He couldn’t do drugs. He wouldn’t do drugs. Not around me.

  I couldn’t go through that again.

  “You have my promise,” he said, but like his impulsive invitation, I didn’t understand why.

  Chapter Four

  Colton

  I couldn’t breathe, my lungs denying me air. The world faded into darkness, but it wasn’t in the normal way as if I’d fallen into sleep. It was something else, and I gasped, forcing myself out of it like many nights. The room bright, it wasn’t evening, and my gaze darted around for some awareness.

  My buddy Jesse met my eyes.

  His own eyes wide, concern worried his brow. “Colton?”

  “What the hell happened?” I swallowed, holding my neck, then rubbing my chest. Sweat coated my fingertips, and the expanse of a large living room filled my vision, my house.

  You’re at home. You’re home.

  I sat up on the couch, pressing my palms to my eyes to alleviate the rush in my head, and Jesse sat beside me, hesitant. He leaned forward. “I was just trying to wake you up.”

  “With what?” I snipped, shooting him a look. Whatever he did, I couldn’t breathe, and that wasn’t in my head, not this time.

  He picked up a pillow off the floor. “I shoved the corner up your nose. Like I always do to get your ass up?” He tossed it to the floor. “You sleep like a rock, Colt. You know that.”

  That was before. That was thirty days ago.

  “I suppose that was a dick move of me… after what happened,” he said, resting his arms on his knees. He touched my shoulder. “You okay? I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  Tilting my head, I didn’t like the way my friend was looking at me, sympathetic and shit like I was broken. Sitting up, I punched his shoulder. “Nah, I’m good. I just overacted, I guess.”

  He watched me get up, stumbling a bit as I got my bearings.

  He put a hand out. “You… You really okay, though?”

  I found my phone as he asked, then cringed at a cracked cellphone screen. Pushing my hand over the scruff on my head, I turned, waving the phone.

  He cringed back. “Shit. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Colt.”

  “It’s cool. Cool,” I said, taking a seat on the arm of my white leather sofa. I shrugged. “I’m the one who fell asleep with it, and yeah, I’m good. Just disoriented.”

  His chin went up. Leaning back, he folded his arms over the back of the couch. “What were you sleeping down here fo
r anyway?”

  “Damage control,” I said, lifting the phone. “I pretty much talked to every member of my entire family last night.” And went well into the morning doing it. The calls caught up with me after the press conference. I should have known the no missed calls were from my time in the air with no signal. Well, they all came in a wave at once, and I went down the line. The last had been my pop.

  “If you want, we can come down,” he’d said, gruff but sincere. That has always been his way. “Ann and I can plan a trip and leave tonight if you need it.”

  Ann was my stepmom, and the fact my old man was willing to travel all this way (when he hated flying) let me know the ringer I put my family through. One thing I appreciated about his call was his last words, though.

  He’d said, “If you need it.” He gave me an option, which hadn’t been the welcome I got from my gram and aunt. I flat-out refused for them to come down here. I couldn’t be around any of them right now—especially if they all came at once.

  I feared suffocation if they did.

  And anyway, my gram had her fill of watching me sick. She stayed with me that entire week before I was sentenced, and I couldn’t go through that again. I couldn’t go through her going through that again. Besides, I went to rehab, and that fixed everything as far as my entire family was concerned.

  “The entire Chandler clan,” Jesse said, letting a breath out with it when he threw his head back. “Rough.”

  The roughest. Jesse and I had been friends for a long time. We’d been drafted together, so of course, he knew the nature of my large family. I loved them, but they definitely could smother a guy sometimes.

  I drew a hand down my face, shaking my head. “I ain’t ready, man.”

  “I don’t blame you. Look at your military ass.” He shoved a hand down the back of my head. “Don’t think the lack of hair will make you any faster than me on the court. I can still run laps up and down your blond ass.”

  He jostled me, and I snorted.

  “Clean bill of health, remember?” I stated, placing my hand on my chest. “Served my thirty days, so I’m one hundred percent ready to kick your ass.”

  “And that’s still bullshit,” he went on. “That judge didn’t know what he was talking about. You and I both know you aren’t a drug addict.”

  One of the only ones that knew the truth. Jesse knew me. He knew me almost as well as I knew myself.

  He chuckled. “If a guy can’t have one night to get fucked on his day in the sun, then what is the world coming to?” Reaching over, he gripped my hand, and I was almost glad he came over and tried to suffocate me. I hadn’t felt normal at all since that day, but with him here, things started to feel that way a little bit.

  He stood. “Come on. I need to raid your fridge.”

  Moments later, Jesse spread his arms, wrapping their length around the fluffy body of my housekeeper scrubbing down my kitchen counters. “Irene!”

  She turned within them, squeezing the life out of him so hard he made a show of sticking out his tongue. “Jesse,” she stated, her eyes warm, and her expression even warmer. The woman was always inviting and older, she’d come to work for me a few years ago. She’d been with this house even before that, another athlete.

  Letting go, she squeezed Jesse’s shoulders. “This house has missed you as much as Colton these last few weeks,” she said, passing me a look over his shoulders.

  I took a seat, grabbing an apple out of the ceramic bowl on the counter she’d stocked earlier in the week. “You’ve always been her favorite kid,” I told him before crunching the fruit between my teeth.

  Jesse simply shrugged, folding an arm over his chest. “Well, look at me?”

  I kicked the back of his knee, making him stumble over himself with a chuckle.

  Our childish banter had Irene looking offended. She placed her hands on her wide hips. “You know I play no favorites between you,” she said, waving us off. “But I enjoy cooking your favorites. Can I make you something?”

  “Nah,” I told her, taking another bite. I spoke around the taste explosion. “Jesse is just going to clean me out.”

  “My housekeeper doesn’t rock like yours.” He’d already dipped himself in my fridge, his ass wiggling in the air to his own internal beat, the idiot.

  This made Irene smile. Jesse always knew how to hit that sweet spot with a woman, didn’t matter the age. She patted my face. “Now, let me know if you need anything,” she said, letting her fingers slip from my cheek. She turned. “You too, Jesse.”

  His arm rose above the chrome refrigerator. He’d found the beers—and well before 10:00 AM. Irene couldn’t hide her distaste, but she let it go, sliding me a warm look before leaving the kitchen with her rag. She was another person that was still doing the kid gloves thing around me. I barely heard her around the place, and she could be in the same room as me, taking care of the house.

  I was just glad she took off on the weekends, that weekend.

  A trough of food hit my polished counter, Jesse the delivery boy. He proceeded in opening a carton of eggs, cracking open basically the entire stock in my food processor before grabbing the Muscle Milk. “Making you and me some energy,” he said, grinning to himself over the sound. “We got to get as many workouts in as possible before you drop my ass like old news for Miami.”

  I smiled. My phone chirping took me by surprise and I moved my hip to reach for it, happy the damn thing was still in commission. But then, I saw the last person I had somehow managed to not talk to calling me this morning.

  My brother Griffin.

  He’d been quiet since I got back, too quiet, but I thanked the world for small favors. I wouldn’t question it.

  “Ironic you bring that up,” I told Jesse. The phone stopped ringing and instead of calling back, I texted.

  What’s up? He had called me but a text was me being chicken shit. Jesse was looking at me when I gazed up and I lifted my shoulders. “Just got a call from Griffin. He’s bugging me about something.”

  Jesse cringed, pouring our thick yellow beverages into a couple of mugs. “Yeah, what’s going on with that? Him? Miami?”

  I wished I knew. My fate was just as fuzzy as it had been… before the incident. I technically hadn’t signed anything. Just had an offer. I placed my phone down. “Joe’s set up a meeting with Miami but wouldn’t give me much else than that. He gave me a date and time. That’s it.”

  I got that text last night before I went to sleep, and I was surprised I could sleep with that weighing down my mind.

  Placing the cups down, Jesse lounged back. He pushed one my way. “You think they’ll bow out?”

  God, I hoped not. It wasn’t in the plan. Miami was the plan. I shook my head, watching my phone buzz.

  Hey, Griff’s text. Not much. Just checking in.

  Of course he was. They all did. I typed letters behind a shattered smartphone screen. Still here. Still breathing.

  And you know that’s good to hear.

  I breathed.

  You mind some company? he asked, and I thought not him too, but then his text went on. Roxie is coming into town. She has Jackson, and he wants to see his uncle.

  My thoughts and spirits lifted at the mention of the little tyke. Their son was three now. Jesus, how had that happened? I must have been getting old. I moved my hand over my head. What are they doing here?

  Roxie is meeting with a client. She doesn’t like leaving Jackson with the nannies if she’s going to be gone for more than a couple days. Especially, if no one is going to be home. I’m out of town, too. In Texas, with Pop and Hayden.

  Now, the optimist in me wanted to say he went home for business-related things, but the pessimist couldn’t help but think he teamed up with our brother and dad to discuss my issues. He just said Pop and Hayden so maybe I could take the optimistic route. But still, this little visit with Roxie and my nephew sure was coming at a weird time.

  This isn’t an intervention, is it? I texted. You letting Roxie co
me down and spread her magical powers of positivity and bringing my nephew as a buffer?

  He responded with, LOL, to that and his, Hardly, that followed let me at least know this conversation was different from the others I had with our family. I didn’t know where Griffin and I stood since my incident. I could imagine he was disappointed just like the rest of our family though.

  Jackson genuinely wants to come down and see you, he texted. He’s been asking about you.

  Probably because my name had been on so many lips lately. I was quite sure the word “Colton” was a buzzword for him.

  Besides, Griffin continued. You gotta help me work on his skills. Roxie ignores it, but the boy’s talent is already showing on the court. I can’t keep that mini basketball out of his hands. We set him up a hoop in his room.

  That made me smile, and him and my sister-in-law coming just might be the thing I needed to get my mood back up, if not a little. I told Griffin, Sounds good, surprised that Jesse managed to stay quiet during the entire exchange.

  He sipped his drink, brown eyebrows raised above his cup.

  “All good,” I told him. “My sister-in-law is coming down on business. She’s bringing my nephew with her.”

  “Hmm. When are they coming?”

  That just came in via text, and my eyes widened, but only in surprise. They flew in today, arriving early afternoon, but that wasn’t a problem. Work was extremely slow right now, and not just because of the obvious. The season had wrapped, so my days had been training and endorsement deals I had signed. The endorsements had stopped… but the training didn’t have to, even if my future was undetermined.

  Thinking I wanted to get that going, I grabbed Jesse’s experimental drink, ready to go out and warm up the basketball court I made sure this house had before I bought it. A hand slamming down on my bicep made me choke on the already hard-to-get-down beverage, and I hacked, the eggs burning my nose. I held my bridge.

  “Jess?” I shot, turning his way. “You trying to kill me?” First the damn pillow and then this? He wasn’t responsive, staring out the glass overlook in the kitchen. It oversaw the entire back of my property from the second level, the grassy valleys of the Hills, but something told me he wasn’t taking in the trees.