What would you say if I said I love you.
And then she ran.
But I can’t take the words back now. I meant them. The truth is that I fell for her when I was seventeen years old, and I was too young and too innocent to understand what I was feeling then. I just knew I never wanted to let her go.
Here I am, at twenty-seven, feeling the exact same fucking way.
I go straight from Top Gun to The Breakfast Club. I take a quick break for dinner and answer a text from Dylan, and then I return to the couch. Not wanting to feel the pain I know is just on the other side of distraction and constant noise, I sit through Beverly Hills Cop and Fletch. By the time I realize how bleary my eyes are from lack of sleep, the sun is rising. I go to the kitchen to make some breakfast, and then I impulsively reach for my phone.
Mom’s always been a notoriously early riser, and she picks up immediately. “Hi, Coltie. Everything all right?”
“Yeah, fine. I just wanted to talk.”
“You sound sad, honey. Is this about your father’s anniversary?”
I let out a breath. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking of Dad a lot. I miss him.”
“Me, too. Every day.” She goes quiet for a moment. “But why am I getting the feeling your sadness is about more than your father?”
“I just don’t get how you two managed to make it work,” I say. “How you even got it together enough to marry and have kids.”
“Who is she?” Mom asks me.
I give a low groan. “What makes you think there’s someone?”
“Because you never talk about marriage or relationships. And now you are. So I’m thinking she’s got to be someone special.”
“She is.” I tell her about Sky, and how we reconnected. “But she’s extremely… suspicious of relationships. Any kind of intimacy and she’s racing twenty steps away from me.”
“She sounds like she might be worth chasing,” Mom says. “To have that kind of a spark, especially across a long time span like that…is rare.”
“Yeah. I think I pushed her too hard. You know me—I’m not very patient.”
“Patience isn’t always a virtue, honey.” She laughs. “It can delay what’s meant to be.”
“You and I are the same that way, Mom. Not everyone agrees. And Sky needs me to be patient with her. I should have slowed things down.”
I can practically hear her thinking. After a long pause, she says: “You know, as much as I miss your father? I wouldn’t trade any of the moments we spent together. Love is worth any kind of hurt, honey. Don’t give up.”
“I love you, Mom. Thanks for talking.”
I stand up and head for the bed. The sun’s fully up now, but I need a few hours of sleep to clear my thoughts before I can figure out a plan. Because I can’t let Skylar go. Not without one hell of a fight.
* * *
The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up. I think. Either that or it’s the insistent buzzing of my intercom letting me know somebody’s at the end of my driveway.
Hopeful that it’s Sky, I grab my jeans and a t-shirt. I’m still pulling on my shirt when I reach the intercom.
“Wild! Open up and let us in!”
The sound of Dylan’s laughter follows his request, and I could swear I hear Bray’s chuckle in the background.
I open the gate, wondering who’s going to be in my driveway in a matter of seconds. I’m standing on my front steps when Dylan’s BMW comes into view. As soon as he’s parked, all four doors open.
“What the hell—” I head down the front steps as all four of my cousins, plus Jenson, exit the car and start shouting out heys.
Dylan reaches me first. “Surprised?” he says with a grin. “Me too. These crazy guys showed up at my doorstep at nine a.m. They took the overnight to get here. They’re only here for two days, so let’s make the most of our time.”
Ayden, with his dark hair just showing underneath his always-there Red Sox baseball cap, appears next to Dylan, and I put my arm around him in a hug. “Did you fly from Maine, man?” I ask him.
He nods. “Had a stopover in New York, and my flight got in close to the same time as these three,” he says as he jerks his thumb toward Brayden, Cameron, and Jenson. “So we all hopped in a cab and went straight to Dylan’s. We figured we had a better chance of waking him up than you.”
Brayden runs his hand through blond hair that’s so much like mine, and chuckles as he comes closer to give me a hug. “Our last chance to see you two ballers before training camp. We didn’t want to pass it up when Cam found great last-minute prices on flights.”
Dylan and I immediately start arguing that we’ll reimburse them for all travel expenses, but Cameron steps in between us and puts his arm around me. “No way. You think we want to hang on to you two losers for cash and shit? If we wanted that, we’d be looking for a lot more than a red-eye plane ride.” His dark eyes flash with pride as he smirks at me. “You and Dylan earned your money. Keep it.”
Jenson’s eyes dance with amusement as he smirks. “You think we tolerate you two for your fame and your money? You couldn’t pay us enough.”
I laugh and invite them all inside.
My cousins and best friend will always keep me in line, always make sure I stay grounded, and I never have to worry about being used or treated differently just because I catch a football for a living. I know how lucky I am to have these guys in my life, and as we walk inside my house, I’m especially grateful to have the distraction today. What happened with Sky has me all sorts of fucked up, and I just want to hang out with my cousins and forget about it for a night.
* * *
We spend the day swimming in my pool, throwing a football around, and grilling burgers and steaks.
“How’s Kyle doing? And Connor?” I ask Jenson in the middle of tackling him to the ground.
“Great,” he says, his smile lighting up his face. “Can’t believe how fast they grow up.”
He pushes me off him and grabs the football out of my hands. “But no distracting me, Wild,” he says as he flicks the ball over to Brayden.
We tear up the pool doing laps and playing our own version of water polo, which basically means trying to take the ball away from whoever has it by any means necessary. Dylan and I aren’t the only ones here in great shape. Bray and Ayden both played football in high school—Bray and I were Dylan’s top targets senior year. And Jenson was a big deal as the quarterback in his Pennsylvania hometown, but he decided not to pursue it past high school. Cameron’s in the minor hockey leagues in Minnesota, but he’s training for the majors, and if his father has anything to say about it, that’s where he’s headed. He’s vicious in competition when he wants to be, but he confides in me that he’s thinking of starting his own business and walking away from hockey altogether.
“Really?” Cam’s the youngest of us all, and I know whatever I say will have an impact. So I make sure to tell him the truth. “I think that’s awesome. You need to make sure you do what makes you happy. If I didn’t love football, this lifestyle and the pressure would have crushed me in year one. Don’t do it if you don’t love it.”
Cam’s eyes brighten in relief, as Brayden joins us at the shallow end of the pool. “How are you, Colt?”
I force a grin, not wanting to bring up Sky and what we shared. “I’m good. I’m glad to see you guys, though. Dylan and I didn’t know when we’d be able to get home to Montana.” Plus, with Cam, Ayden, and Jenson in other states, somebody would have had to travel anyway.
Brayden pats my back as we climb out of the pool and join Ayden, Dylan, and Jenson at the grill. “I know your dad’s anniversary is never easy. I miss him, too.”
“Your dad’s diagnosis was so hard,” Dylan says, his smile sad. “God, he was more of a father to me than my own. He was the best, Colt.”
I swallow and nod. “I know. I appreciated all your texts on his birthday, like always. They always mean a lot.”
Ayden’s blue eyes catch mine. Compassion and
understanding pass between us. Ayden was only ten when he lost his father, and I watched his whole world get turned upside-down. I don’t think he’s recovered yet, but he’s dealt with it much differently than me. He dates women like he’s trying out a new CD—never keeps them around for long, and makes sure to find ones who won’t tempt him to get serious.
“How’s Bella?” I ask him. “She keeping you out of trouble?”
His face relaxes into a grin. “She’s trying. Doesn’t always work. But I look out for her, too. She deserves that.”
Cam snorts. “You two need to fuck and get it over with.”
Ayden expression turns hard. “Shut up, Cam. I’m only going to warn you once.”
But Cam just laughs. “I’m just fucking with you, Ayd. We all know Bella’s your best friend, and you don’t fuck your friends. Right?”
That’s the story. Ayden’s best friend, Bella, is beautiful and sweet. She lived out in L.A. for a few years and I got to know her pretty well. We always thought something would happen between her and Ayden someday, but so far we’ve all been proven wrong.
Jenson interrupts. “Hey, let’s help Dylan out with the burgers. I’m starved.”
* * *
By evening, we’re tired, full, and ready to hang out on my patio with a cooler of beers. Of course, two hours into our evening of drinking, Cam returns from my bathroom with something in his hand and an annoying-as-shit smirk on his face.
“What’s this, Colt?” He holds up Skylar’s pink hairbrush.
I grab it from him and place it on the table. “Nothing. And what were you doing in the guest bathroom?”
He shrugs. “Dylan was in the main one, so I used the next closest.” He sits down next to me. “So who’s the overnight chick? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
“Yes. I am.” I pause. “I was.”
Jenson narrows his eyes at me. “Was? What happened?”
Dylan frowns. “Did something happen?”
Cam turns on the two of them. “You knew about this? Since when?”
“Just a little while,” Jenson says.
“I figured I’d tell you all in person,” I say quickly, hoping to quell any irritation. “Sky and I were still working things out.”
“Her name’s Sky?” Ayden asks immediately.
“Yes. She’s a reporter for a television station here in L.A.”
“Cool,” Ayden says.
Silence.
“But she’s staying in your guest room?” Brayden’s even tone cuts through the quiet Malibu night. “How’s that work?”
“She’s not always in the guest room,” I say. “It’s just…”
“Did you two get in a fight?” Ayden asks, his piercing blue eyes focused on my reaction.
“Is everything okay?” Brayden’s concerned gaze lands on mine.
Ayden’s already talking over him. “I bet you two could work things out. Maybe give her a call, so we can all meet her.”
“But don’t force anything.” Cam nods like he’s figured all of this out on his own. “I did that one too many times, and it just prolonged the inevitable.”
“If she’s using you for the fact that you’re a professional athlete, I would say definitely walk,” Brayden says firmly. “But if not, what’s stopping you reaching out to her?”
I curse loudly as Dylan breaks into a laugh.
“Down, guys.” Dylan cuts into the chaos. “I’ve met her. Skylar’s not using Colt for his fame, or his money, or anything like that. She’s cool. She doesn’t take any shit from him. Besides, she literally didn’t have a clue who I was. And she didn’t care when she found out.”
Cam swings his head around and stares at Dylan. “You met her? And you didn’t distrust her on sight? She must be something, then.”
Dylan gives him a look, as I say, “She is. I knew her before my life got crazy. We met ten years ago. The last vacation I took with my dad.”
“Oh.” Three voices exhale the word at once, as Cam, Ayden, and Brayden turn to me.
“They met in Boulder,” Jenson says in a quiet tone. “She rocked his world back then, and now.”
Cam’s dark eyes zero in on me. “We’re talking…”
“I want her,” I say, my voice quiet. “She’s all I want.”
“Shit.” Cam runs his hand through his damp hair, causing it to stick straight up. “And you think it’s for real?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
Four pairs of eyes widen as they stare at me like I’ve grown a second face. Everyone except for Jenson, who just tips his head at me like he gets it. And because I’m the only one privy to his secret, I nod back without saying a word, before I turn to the rest of them.
“I know it’s real. But we had a…misunderstanding. I’m not sure what kind of footing we’re on right now. She bolted out of here and left her stuff behind.”
Ayden’s typing into his phone. “What station does she work for? Maybe we can look her up and see what she’s like.”
I tell him the station name. “She just did a big interview,” I say. “I’m sure it’s online. She’s talented, and funny, and beautiful, in every way.”
And I miss her so fucking much that my chest aches just talking about her.
Chapter Eighteen
Skylar
I grab Italian takeout for dinner and head for home. I walk through my crowded Los Angeles neighborhood, tears clouding my eyes as I try to ignore the pain creeping through my heart and making its way into my soul. I took off from Colton’s house yesterday, and I’ve been fighting the heartbreak ever since.
Colton treats me like a queen, but also like a woman. A real woman, who’s flawed and messy and…me. He accepts me the way I am. He loves me for who I am. And I’m the one who keeps leaving him. Every single time. When I realized I’d left my freaking bathroom bag at his house, I thought he might use it as an excuse to contact me. But he didn’t. I haven’t heard from him at all, and his silence says more than any words could. He’s making it clear that this time—the ball is in my court.
Colton helped me accept, and embrace, my dirty mouth, and facilitated my snagging a potentially career-changing interview. He’s been an amazing friend, and he’s also an incredible lover. But my demons are out in full force. I’m ashamed of my cowardice. I pride myself on being courageous, and the way I behaved with Colton when I left him was anything but brave.
He said he loved me, and I cut out on him. And that’s unacceptable. Clearly, I need help.
Stopping on the sidewalk, I hit a number on my phone.
When Dr. Bradley answers, I immediately apologize for calling her on a weekend. “I didn’t expect you’d pick up,” I say.
“I’m running billing,” she says. “My receptionist is out sick, and I’ve fallen behind. How can I help you, Skylar?”
I step into the alcove by my apartment and fill her in on what happened with Colton. “I broke the physical boundary between us,” I say, fighting tears as I say it aloud to someone else. “I’m afraid…”
“That you’re just like your father,” she finishes for me.
The shame of the confession is so intense that I drop to my knees on the concrete. “I can’t hurt him,” I whisper.
“Your kick was unconscious, not premeditated,” she says gently. “It’s not the same thing. You didn’t seek to cause Colton pain. Quite the opposite. And there are things we can do to work on your nightmares, and what you and Colton can do if something like that happens again.”
“Really?” Relief fills me at her words.
“Absolutely. If you’re comfortable, doing a session with the two of you would be beneficial. I think it would help move things forward in a positive direction.”
I tell her I’ll get back to her next week, thank her profusely, and end the call.
I enter my front walkway and take the stairs two at a time to my second floor apartment.
I’m going to go to Colton, and I’m going to make it righ
t.
Karma jumps on my legs when I step through the door.
Check that: I’ll go to Colton as soon as I’m done walking Karma.
I hustle through our walk, and head for home.
As soon as Karma and I return to the apartment, my phone rings.
I shut the front door, let Karma off her leash, and look at the caller ID.
When I see who it is, I drop onto the couch.
My brother prefers text. Unless we’ve agreed to talk beforehand, he absolutely never calls me unless it’s important.
I’m shaking as I swipe the screen. “Ben?”
“What’s up, little sister?” Ben’s always been the more sensitive of my two brothers, and his low tone is understated.
“You tell me. I’m assuming you have news.”
“Hey, Skyscraper.”
“Nick?” I groan. “Ben, you never tell me when you have me on speaker!”
Ben chuckles. “I like to keep you guessing.”
“Hey, remember when we took your fake microphone that Mom got you for your birthday when you were fourteen, and hid it in the washing machine?”
“Yes, and no doubt Mom remembers as well as I do,” I say. “She ran the machine and broke it. You two had to work so many extra hours shoveling driveways that winter to pay her back the repair costs.”
Ben and Nick’s laughs are so similar I can’t tell which one is laughing harder.
“Yeah, so anyway, we’re calling you on a more serious topic, of course.” Nick clears his throat.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. “And?”
“Our father’s in jail.”
We don’t call him Dad, or Daddy, or any term of endearment. If we refer to him at all, it’s always “our father.” A formal term to define the role we acknowledge he played in our birth, but nothing more.
I suck in air and then say the following words quickly, “When? How? And who found out?”
“Mom’s cop friend. Remember Ivan?”
Colton Page 18
