“Good luck!” we said in unison.
“Dude has balls.” Jason stared after Max like he was some sort of Greek god or football legend.
“Of actual steel,” Colton agreed once Max had gotten into his Jeep.
“Cheers, to the man we all hope to be one day.” Jason lifted the flask into the air and drank, then passed it to Colton.
“Unbelievable. He’s not going to war, people! He’s going to a bachelorette party. He’s surrounding himself with horny bridesmaids and trying to get the spawn of Satan to admit she isn’t pregnant, which by the way we still aren’t sure of. Most likely he’ll be drunk within two hours and end up in prison.”
“Have you met her friends?” Jason asked.
“Well, no.”
“Yeah.” His jaw flexed. “Let’s just say their idea of a party involves tea, biscuits, gossip, and a hell of a lot of perfume.”
“But it’s a pre-bachelorette party?” I watched as Max drove away.
“Pre-bachelorette party? Hell? Both are interchangeable.” Jason nodded. “Trust me, the guy’s going to hate women for at least a week, hope that’s not a problem.”
“Nope.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
“Huh?” I was too busy hoping my friend came back safe, and not in a box like he assumed. “For what?”
“Letting us use your fiancé.” Jason nodded. “I have to admit Colt and I were worried that you jumped into things—but he’s pretty straight, you know?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what to say so I just agreed. “He’s pretty awesome.”
“Anyway, I guess, without getting too sappy, Colton and I are proud of you for settling down with such a stand-up guy, right, man?” He hit Colton on the back, but Colton didn’t say anything for a minute. Instead he stared right through me, and then he seemed to collect himself.
“Thrilled.” He cleared his throat. “Tickled abso-freaking-lutely—pink.”
“All right.” Jason clapped his hands. “I’m going to go take a quick nap in the guest room so Mom can’t find me, then get ready for the rehearsal dinner. You coming, Colt?”
“Give me a second.” His eyes didn’t leave mine.
I shifted nervously on my feet.
We were standing in front of the house. The afternoon breeze picked up, making me shiver.
“What’s up?” My ability to sound unaffected as he continued to stare was basically nonexistent. I scratched my arm nervously and waited.
“You and me.”
“You and me, what?”
“It’s time.”
“Huh?”
“I cheated too.”
What. The. H.
“You have a girlfriend!” I shouted, fighting the tears as they pooled behind my eyes.
Instead of answering he took my hand and led me back into the house, then downstairs into the basement.
I needed a damn paper bag or something! Girlfriend! This whole time! What the crap?
Shaking, I sat down on the couch and waited for him to give me the talk. You know the one, where the guy pats your hand, tilts his head two degrees to the right, gives you the pity smile, then angles your chin and does the soft punch across your jaw, like “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”
I had that speech memorized.
He gave me that stupid speech when I was sixteen after I mauled him with my lips.
To be fair, the whole underwear incident killed whatever romance could have been there, and, well, technically, I mean he was eighteen, meaning it could be considered, er, slightly illegal. But not really, I mean who actually paid attention to those laws?
“I cheated,” he began again. My heart dropped. No. No. No. “At Ping-Pong.”
My head snapped up. “Come again?”
“You had a few points that I didn’t count, you couldn’t tell because it looked like it missed the table—the ball hit the table three times that I said it didn’t.”
“You sick bastard!” I roared, launching myself across the couch as I beat him with my fists. “You took an oath! An oath to always be honest and true when we play games! We shook hands, asshole! We exchanged spit—”
“My favorite part,” he grunted from underneath me, as I continued to beat on his back. He turtle-shelled me so I couldn’t actually hit anything of substance. “You worn out yet? Or you wanna go another round?”
Heaving, I fell back onto the couch. “I’m gassed out.”
“Losing your touch.”
I raised my hand then dropped it when Colt started talking.
“Do it,” he challenged. “Slap me, see what happens.”
Not one to back down—no matter how gorgeous the taunting face might be—I raised my hand again, but Colt intercepted it, flipped me off the couch onto my back, and pinned me to the floor.
Cool air hit my stomach as my shirt hiked up toward my bra. Colton kept his hands pressed against mine—which were still pinned to the floor like freaking thumbtacks.
“Easy or hard?” he breathed, lips an inch from mine.
I refused to answer.
“That’s what I thought—for you—always hard.”
I smirked and arched underneath him.
He cursed and looked away. “Right, so I cheated, sue me. At least I apologized, and I’m willing to spend the next two hours watching one, not three, Star Wars movies, so take your pick.”
“You will?” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. When we were little Colton and I had had movie night every night of the summer. Jason always fell asleep so it was always me and Colt eating popcorn, playing games, getting sick off candy.
The two things I missed more than anything in the world while I was away at school? Colton and movie night.
My throat got all thick as I tried to rein in my emotions, but that’s the thing, when you want something so bad that you ache—you can’t help but respond with raw emotion.
Forget wanting the guy to kiss me—those feelings would always be there. But having him as my friend? My lifelong friend who used to do the Chewbacca voice for me so I wouldn’t be scared of Stormtroopers in my closet?
Colton was always there for me when I needed him, maybe that was part of my driving force, part of my desperation. He was everything I’d always wanted.
We fell asleep together on the couch—always.
Until I started to grow up.
And then we sat in separate chairs, until finally we stopped movie night altogether.
“You okay?” he whispered, gently releasing my hands and brushing some hair from my face.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry that the minute we started getting older these things, these moments, stopped. I’m sorry I stopped playing dragon slayer. But I’m not sorry for fighting with you.”
“What?”
His forehead touched mine. “I’d rather fight with you, bicker with you, every damn day of my life than have nothing at all. I’m selfish enough to want any piece of you—even if it’s the bad, the ugly, the ridiculous. So even if you hated me, I’d still die a happy man—because I’d still be on your mind.”
“Yeah?” I said weakly. My heart soared, even though I told it to stop getting its hopes up. Colton wasn’t being romantic, he was just reminiscing about childhood.
“I’d rather be on the receiving end of a black eye from you—than the receiving end of a kiss from another.” He kissed my cheek, his five o’clock shadow rubbing against my skin. “Truth.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
COLTON
There are moments. Moments that, for some reason or another, God gives us in order to help move us forward toward our destiny.
She was my destiny.
And somehow I’d missed it—I’d missed her.
Instead of choosing her every chance I was given, I justified the reasons I should walk the other way, or ignored the fact that I was given a choice in the first place. I made excuses and blatantly ignored tho
se precious moments.
The other thing about the moments that are given to us? They’re limited. We don’t get an endless amount. If you miss them, they’re gone. Time machines don’t exist; you can’t go back and fix what’s been broken.
I hated to admit that I was afraid—terrified that because I’d done the wrong thing for twenty-three years of my life, I wasn’t going to be given the chance to make it right.
She was getting married.
To Max.
Though I didn’t want to throw stones, their relationship seemed at odds with itself: one minute they were all over each other, the next they looked—funny, almost like they were best friends more than lovers.
Sighing, I tried to focus my thoughts on the movie.
Not Max.
Not Milo.
And definitely not the fact that the reason I canceled movie nights so long ago—was that I couldn’t control myself anymore.
She remembered things differently—she was innocent.
I, however, knew exactly how things had gone down so long ago. She’d kissed me, and I’d thanked God that she embarrassed herself in the process so I didn’t end up taking her virginity in the basement.
Jason would have killed me.
I would have killed me.
Movie night was never the same. I couldn’t sit next to her without thinking about her soft lips—I couldn’t breathe the same air without her scent floating into my personal space.
It was a living hell and I felt like a sick pervert for being a senior and crushing on a sophomore, and not just any sophomore, but Jason’s little sis.
“Hey, this is the best part!” Milo smacked me in the shoulder as the movie started. She used to make me read the beginning to her because she said my voice sounded cooler.
I swallowed the dryness in my throat as I tried to lean back and relax. Yeah, it was going to be the longest two hours of my life.
Milo reached forward and paused the movie. “We have to go back, you missed the beginning. You’re supposed to read it out loud.”
“Shit.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” I tried not to sound tense as I waited for her to rewind the movie. I read as fast as I could, allowing the hum of my own voice to block out the arousal I felt at her arm grazing mine.
One hundred and thirty-six minutes of hell. I knew exactly how long the movie was because, though I wasn’t a fan of math, it was the only thing keeping me from ripping her clothes off.
If she moved one more time I was going to lose my shit. We were at the very end of the movie when things shifted. With a sigh she leaned on my shoulder and tucked her legs underneath her.
I looked down—I swear it was only to see what she was doing.
And saw directly down her shirt.
Shit balls.
She shifted a bit more; I still stared.
I was going to burn in hell.
And the way would be paved with two very perky, very round breasts. There were worse ways to go, right?
“Luke!” Milo yelled, then shifted closer to me; my body hummed as her head rubbed against my chest.
I imagined her screaming my name.
And suddenly developed a not-so-little problem.
Gently I tried to move away to hide any evidence of where my thoughts were going. I sure as hell didn’t want her to think I had a thing for Luke Skywalker or—God forbid—for robots.
“No.” She yawned and burrowed farther into my chest. “I’m comfortable.”
I almost yelled, “I’m dying!” Instead I smiled like an ass and said, “Yeah, me too, this is nice.”
The hell it was.
I could have sworn my body parts were yelling at me as my muscles strained against my clothes. Free me, free me! I shifted again. Take her, take her!
When I didn’t think I could take it anymore—when I honestly contemplated faking a seizure so I could get some relief from her hot little body—the lights went out—along with the TV.
“Sorry!” Mrs. Caro called from upstairs. “My fault! We blew a breaker! Hold tight.”
I was tight all right . . .
The holding was the issue; any holding and I’d make a fool out of myself.
With a sigh I tried to shift away again, but Milo grabbed my hand. “I’m still scared of the dark.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still scared of sharks, so we can still be friends.”
“I hate that word.”
All I could hear was my own heartbeat in the silence. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Sometimes I do too.”
The lights flickered back on. I turned my head and saw that Milo’s mouth was right next to my chin. Damn it, that woman had never understood her own beauty. She was the type of girl who terrified guys. Her features were too perfect, soft where you wanted them, and sharp where it mattered. Her high cheekbones and pouty lips made me nervous enough—add in her caramel-colored eyes and I was basically a man hypnotized.
I was the damn snake in a basket—in more ways than one.
Ah, if only she had a magic flute.
“You guys down here?” Jason called. The sound of his feet hitting the stairway reminded me of a clock ticking. With each step I pulled farther and farther away from Milo, and in return, her face clouded—as she pulled further and further into herself.
Another moment I’d missed.
Another moment I’d purposefully ignored.
My heart clenched as I wondered if that was the last one I was going to get.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MILO
“Star Wars.” Jason shook his head. “I thought you won at Ping-Pong?” His brows drew together in confusion.
“He cheated.” I punched Colt in the shoulder and received a blank stare in return. What was wrong with him? His skin was so flushed it looked like he was feverish.
I’d thought he was going to kiss me.
Weird, because when I thought he was going to yell at me he kissed me, and when I thought he was going to kiss me he pulled away.
Men. I would never understand them. Ever. Colton was hot and cold, we’d share a moment and then he’d change, acting like he was irritated with me.
My phone went off.
“Max?” I all but yelled. The guy had been silent as the dead for the past two hours. I could only assume he was finding success.
“Ax.” His voice sounded like gravel churning in a washing machine. “Tell Jason and Colton to have the ax ready, I’ll be there in five.” The phone went dead.
“Er, guys, that was Max.”
“He’s alive!” Colton shouted, seeming genuinely surprised at this revelation. “Damn it.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.” He looked away.
“He said he needs an ax?”
“An ax?” Jason rubbed his chin. “What the hell would he need an ax for?”
I shrugged.
“Well.” Jason nodded toward the stairs. “We owe him for going into the lion’s den balls to the wall—lets go get the ax from the garage and wait for him outside.”
Five minutes later Max pulled up to the house.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when he stepped out of the Jeep.
His shirt was half ripped from his body, he had scratches up and down his arms, his eye looked slightly puffy, and lipstick stained his collar. To add insult to injury I could have sworn he was missing a substantial amount of hair on the right side of his head—and he had a limp.
“Ax,” he mouthed, then he cleared his throat. “Give me the ax.”
Jason’s mouth opened and closed as he handed Max the ax.
Max didn’t say hi.
He didn’t smile.
He gripped the ax in his hands, and walked right by us, like a man on a mission.
“What the hell is he doing?” Colton asked aloud.
“Beats me.” Jason shrugged.
Max continued to walk. He finally stopped in front of a giant oak tree—and started swinging.
�
��I’m a man, damn it!” He swung again, pieces of bark flying as he massacred the old tree, swing after swing after swing.
“Ahhhh,” the guys said in unison as if they suddenly understood why my best friend had lost his mind.
“What? What’s this ahhh?” I shrieked. “Max grew up in the city. Until today I didn’t even think he knew what an ax was, let alone how to use one!”
“Manhood.” Colton shook his head. “Poor bastard, he’s trying to find his manhood. Damn, that pre-bachelorette must have been hell.”
“The things he’s seen.” Jason’s voice cracked. “And actually survived.” He removed his baseball hat and bowed his head. “He’s a hero.”
“He had tea,” I argued.
“Some wounds . . .” Colton agreed. “They’re on the inside? And that’s what’s going to be the hardest for him, you know, when he pulls through.”
“Pull through, big guy!” Jason shouted. “You pull through!”
As if Max had just earned a Purple Heart, he dropped the ax onto the ground, fell to his knees, and gave out a war cry.
“Let it go, buddy.” Colton nodded. “You let it go.”
You know that whole Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus theory? Yeah. I was living it. It was as if they were from a different planet.
Slowly we walked toward Max as he rose to his feet.
I opened my mouth to talk but Colton put his hand over my lips and said softly, “Give him a minute. Victims of this type of assault usually need to be the first to speak. It gives them their power back.”
I rolled my eyes as Colton removed his hand.
Max lifted his head and shuddered. “I . . . I . . . I think I need to take off my pants, make sure my balls are still there and all, you know, just in case.”
“Dude.” Jason put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “You do what you gotta do, you hear me?”
Max nodded, then looked at me. “You’re one of them.”
“Huh?”
“A girl,” he spit. “You’re one of them.”
“Uhhh.” I reached out but was nearly tackled to the ground as Colton grabbed me from behind.
“They touched me,” Max whispered.
The Consequence of Loving Colton Page 9
