Underside of Courage (Beautifully Disturbed Series Book 2)

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  “Kay?”

  “I’m fine. Just… I’ve been so worried for you and here you are all being perfectly okay the whole time. What’s his name?”

  “Collin.”

  “Sexy.” She sniffs into the phone.

  “You have no idea. We met finals week last semester. Started seeing each other after Christmas.”

  “He’s why you didn’t come home?”

  “No. I really didn’t have the money.”

  “Why haven’t you told me about him, sent a picture? Something?”

  “We’ve had some—difficulties. Guess I had to be sure.”

  “And you’re sure now?”

  “Never been more.”

  “Can you get him home with you over break? You know mom’s going to want to meet him.”

  “He has a conference that week. I’ll ask, but…”

  “But? Kip is this guy as serious about you as you are him? You wear your heart on your sleeve. Always have.”

  “Listen Kay, he does. Things are just complicated. But he does.”

  “Kip?” I look up to Collin standing in the hallway leaning against the wall with sleep mussed hair, counting on me to soothe his fears. His gravelly voice going from my ears to hit all the major checkpoints south.

  “Is that him?” My sister asks through the phone.

  “Yes,” I say back to her.

  “Woke up and you were gone. Thought, thought maybe you’d left.” If his reaction doesn’t strike a blow to my heart.

  “I’d never leave you, Col. My sister called. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Your sister?” he says at the same time she says, “Put him on.”

  “Yes,” to him. “No,” to her.

  “She wants to talk to me, doesn’t she?”

  “Col, you don’t have to.”

  “Yes he does,” she shouts through the line loud enough for us both to hear. All signs of her earlier tears gone.

  Awkward much? My half naked boyfriend strolls over to pull the phone from my ear, putting my sister on speaker while all I can do is watch the event unfold.

  “Hi, Kayna. I’m Collin.”

  “Wow. You sound gorgeous. Maybe if my brother sent some pictures I’d have a better idea.”

  “I am pretty hot,” he teases. “But I suppose that’s my fault. I’m a project.” A rare moment of vulnerability shown for someone not Benton or me.

  “Are you treating him well?”

  “As well as I can. Kip is… Kip is really special to me. We… things… he’s so special.” I’m not sure what’s in my sister’s head calling him out. For a beat or two, Collin stands rigid, staring at his feet, quiet. A finger hooked in my waistband. Then his shoulders slump like he’s resigned himself to something big. I think I got to him. And I don’t think he wanted me to.

  I’m done here.

  I love my sister, but if I’m not naked with this man right now my head—the one above my neck—might actually explode. I grab the phone back from him.

  “Kay. Love you. Hanging up now.” Then I toss the cell to the carpeting next to my feet.

  She laughs at me and disconnects without even a goodbye. And before he knows what hit him, Collin’s back slams against the wall, my mouth devouring his, hungry for every breath, taste, touch. Col’s hands pull at my hair as I drop to my knees dragging those boxers with, my only goal being to make him feel the way he made me feel earlier in the car today.

  When his eyes close, when those super sexy grunts and curses, “fuck” and “shit” and “god damn, Kip” spur me on and I know he’s getting close, I pull back not speaking, but stand to drag him by the hand back to the bedroom. While he’s laying down, I fish through his drawer for a condom and the lube. Then after prepping my man, with his calves pressed against my shoulders I find heaven. Because he’s the only heaven I’d ever want to consider. I’ve never felt as alive as when I’m moving with this man, pounding my bliss, my love into him.

  We’re a tangle of sheets by the time we both find release. Together. He rolls to his side as I collapse partly on top of him, completely spent but blissed out of my mind. And I know he feels the same because it takes us a few to even speak.

  Collin does first. “What was that?” His breathing still hasn’t calmed yet. His smile, infectious.

  “I don’t know, just wanted you.”

  “Because I talked to your sister?”

  “It’s a big deal for me. Makes it real.” It isn’t just he talked to her, it’s what he said. What he said and how he said it.

  I’m special to Collin Pratt.

  “You look… happy.” One of his long fingers traces the line of my jaw while he has one arm tucked under his head, until he stops tracing to kiss my cheek. Collin kisses my cheek, my chin and the tip of my nose before he drops it on me, “Thank you. No man has ever introduced me to family before, not as a boyfriend.”

  Chapter 16

  Collin

  Sunday morning.

  It might just be the best Sunday morning of my life. Not because we’re doing anything in particular, but more because we’re not. Waking up next to Kip well after ten because we stayed up so late enjoying each other’s company, we just hold one another, talking, kissing, discussing my classes—which yes, technically it’s talking but discussing school doesn’t count the same—just being a couple.

  The whole waking up next to someone? Never had it before. Andrew and I couldn’t. We were both so young. And the nights I stayed over, Ben stayed in the room with us or we stayed in his room. Had to. No way could we risk being caught. After Andrew well…

  But no matter, because it’s not just I’m waking up next to someone, right? It’s Kip. Today feels so special because of Kip. Can’t believe I told his sister how special he is to me, there, in front of him.

  He knows now. Information put out into the universe now. Couldn’t take it back if I wanted to. Thing is, I don’t want to. And I know how selfish that makes me. I shouldn’t want him to know, not after yesterday. Not after the museum. He just has a way about him, a way of making me forget who I am. Like the fact he’s a man. The fact I’m a man. It doesn’t matter because what else could matter more than how two people feel about each other?

  “I’m thinking we need to shower after last night. And probably wash the sheets.” He laughs through his nose. An addition to the list of sounds I’ll never grow tired of. But it doesn’t make him any less wrong.

  “Can’t we just hang out in our gross sheets for the rest of the day? I’ll order in.”

  “Our sheets, Col? Since when did they become our sheets?”

  “Spots aren’t just mine. Qualifies as ours, don’t you think? And maybe… if you want, you could leave some of your stuff here, to make ours, too.”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  “Just what I said.” I reach over to trace the early morning stubble on Kip’s chin, which he hasn’t gotten up to shave yet.

  “Aren’t we going a little fast for you? We’ve only been an us officially for a couple of days.”

  “Well, I mean, do we seem fast for you?”

  “Nope. But I’ve been pretty open with what I want. What I don’t want is for you to be stressing over the direction our relationship is heading and shut down on me.”

  I roll over propping my head up on a closed fist, my bent elbow on the pillow instead of the mattress, and let it all hang out. “Listen, I know I haven’t exactly been King-Got-My-Shit-Together… But Kip, you’ve got to know, going to bed next to you, waking up with you still here. Never had this before. It means something. It does.”

  “For me too. Though you know to get my stuff, excuse me, our stuff, I have to actually get out of the bed which pretty much brings our conversation back full circle.”

  Kip kisses my forehead before pushing up out of bed and walks to the bathroom. Part of me is ready to get up and join him in the shower. But then I’d be joining him in the shower. He clearly has an agenda for the day, so I stay under the comf
orter until he comes back out. Ten minutes. Hair still wet. Towel wrapped low around his waist giving just the slightest hint of the promise land. Tell me again why I have to get out of bed?

  “Saved you hot water,” he says before catching my eye. Once we’ve connected, he stops whatever he was going to tell me to say. “Col, you keep shooting me your, ‘I’m chocolate cake and it’s your birthday’ look, and not only will we not get shit done today, but tomorrow or the next day, and I’ve got tests on Tuesday.”

  “Yet somehow, zero fucks given.”

  First he gives me the eyebrow, cocked high, making me think of some really bad things to do to him. When the initial attitude doesn’t work, he rolls his eyes then moves closer.

  And clears his throat. “Where are the clean sheets?”

  “Linen closet, end of the hall.”

  A look passes over his face. One of those, ‘I’m trying to do the right thing here,’ looks. I decide to make it easy on him and push up from my warm spot letting the comforter fall in a pile on the bed. “Go ahead and borrow anything you need until we get your stuff.”

  The last part seems to catch him off guard. We’re practically the same size. I think I might have a little more bulk in the shoulders, but not by much. Same waist for sure. Same inseam. Think I like the sharing idea. Andrew was so much bigger than me, I would’ve looked like a drown rat swimming in his clothing.

  End of my shower, instead of dressing right away, I watch Kip lean over the bed folding hospital corners at the corners of the cover sheet. All the soiled bedding and the clothes he’d packed for the weekend piled in a laundry basket by his feet.

  My shirt, the rust colored raglan, looks too damn sexy on him. He’s usually more conservative with his shirts. My new mission—get him into more T-shirts. The jeans he’d brought make him look sexy as hell. Casual, relaxed Kip is a thing of beauty.

  Maybe I should’ve talked to Ben before asking Kip to stay over. Yet watching him bent over the bed, looking all domestic, I can’t regret my decision. Ben will just have to be cool with it. He will be. I think. But what if he’s not? Andrew was his brother. Fuck. I can’t take it back now. I won’t. All I can do is see how it plays out.

  In the kitchen, Kip sits at the table while I lean in my normal spot against the counter, both of us on our second bowl of Lucky Charms. Life has never felt more normal. Could our life be Lucky Charms and coffee and small talk every day? Would the world not explode or implode if I end my day or start my morning with this man who is so special to me?

  “How are your classes going?” Seems like a safe subject.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

  “What’s up?”

  “My professor came to me, says he put in a word with a friend of his. It’s this job opening up at Dow.” Kip picks up his bowl to drink the rest of the milk after he’s finished his cereal.

  I usually dump mine in the sink.

  “Wow, you’re kidding?” I ask, turning to do that, to dump my milk in the sink.

  “Nope. It’s a pretty big honor.”

  “That’s fantastic, Kip. I’m so proud of you.” Yeah, let that one slip. I seem to let a lot of things slip around Kip anymore.

  “There’s a problem. I’ll be called away on a lot of business trips and there’s a hell of a commute between here and Midland.”

  “What about your classes?”

  “My guess, I’d have to quit, or at the very least drop down to probably less than half time.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Not really, but it’s a full time job. I’d actually be making good money.”

  “We’d never see each other.” The most selfish thing I could’ve said to him comes out making me sound like a petulant child. But that’s what I’m most afraid of. Despite my reservations about him dropping out of school, what would I do if I couldn’t see him every day? And after I just offered my place to him.

  Getting up from the table, he walks the couple steps to drop his empty bowl in the sink then turns, leaning his back against the counter, right up in my body space, so close our hips brush, “Hey, babe. Nothing’s been decided yet.” His tone has turned softly mollifying, though not condescending as he turns me into his arms. “You’re opinion matters.”

  “Honesty?”

  “All I ever want from you.”

  I should be the bigger man here, to convince him to go for it and not think twice. It would get him a good job, and get him the hell away from me. “I’m happy for you but— quitting school? And what happens to us if we can’t see each other?”

  “That’s what I needed to hear. I’ll tell my professor tomorrow. I’ll have to pass.”

  ***

  Forty-five minutes. It takes us forty-five minutes to dig the cars out from all the snow fallen last night, which I still can’t believe we were stupid enough to have driven in. Of anybody, I know the perils of driving in wild weather.

  Our first stop after digging out is to his apartment. We have to be quiet because even though it’s later in the morning, well noon now, it looks as if they’d had some rager to celebrate the snowpocalypse. I used to love their kind of partying. Not anymore. I’ll take what Kip and I did last night over any amount of alcohol and dancing. Several people still lay passed out all over the furniture.

  We step over and between even more bodies sprawled on the floor, walking over to the spiral staircase leading up to his loft. I half expect to see people on his bed, thankfully his roommates were respectful enough to keep the partiers out.

  “Bring anything you want,” I tell him once we’re safely away from the sleeping masses. The picture of Kip and his parents in my hand.

  I think I end up packing half his room for him. And the other half feels wrong to leave behind because it’s his and means he’d have a reason to come back here.

  Shit, Kip. How did you get to me?

  After another stop to pick up groceries, apparently he’s very particular about the brand of laundry detergent he uses, and we’re almost out of Lucky Charms, we drop everything back at our place.

  Our place.

  He hasn’t even officially moved in. We still share the space with Ben. Yet calling it anything other than our place feels inherently wrong.

  Food in the cupboard. Bags stored in our room, we head out again to The Brew to meet up with our friends. Our place, our friends. Somehow the thoughts fall so easily. Maybe too easily. And there it is, the sinking feeling. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  No. Not today.

  Kip drapes his arm around my shoulders as we pass between the parked cars in the lot next to the coffee house. I recognize a couple of them, Errol’s Malibu, Zena’s X5. Errol and Sabrina, Garret and Zena, they might not have spent as much time with him, but I have no doubt about his place within our group. Kip just has a way about him, an easy nature making people care for him quickly.

  As soon as we walk in, like she’d been waiting for us, Sabrina looks up from her spot wrapped in Errol’s arms. She smiles briefly before shouting across the room, “Was wondering when you’d let me play with my present again.”

  Kip’s cheeks blush pink. The blush is so cute I almost lose myself, almost forget we’re in public and lean in to kiss his pink cheek. Thankfully my brain makes contact with my lips before my lips makes contact with his face, and I pivot as if my plan all along. “You’ll get used to Bri,” I say low into his ear. “She has no filter.”

  “It’s fine. Just not used to so many women commenting on my appearance. I’m not a piece of meat, Col.” Hearing his laugh again. Kip has a great laugh. A laugh which makes resisting our public kiss harder and harder. Because I’m not a stronger man, I reach over to give his hand a brief squeeze instead.

  Then I send him over while I stop to grab our drinks. When I reach the table, Errol’s midsentence. “But Bri, my ego can hardly take it.”

  “Oh, there’s not a damn thing wrong with your ego,” she teases back.

  “H
e’s ridiculously hot and you keep reminding me of it.” Then he looks pointedly at my boyfriend. “Kip, I’m sorry man. If you’re going to hang with us, you’re going to have to ugly yourself down.”

  “As if,” Bri says the same time I say, “Not possible.”

  Kip’s blush comes back but more subtle than before. Getting used to us. Fitting in.

  “So who’s worried about Benton and Elle?” Way to deflate the mood, Errol.

  But he’s right. We’ve all been avoiding thinking about them, especially me. Pouring myself into my own happiness.

  “He hasn’t called or texted either way,” I tell them all, sliding into the booth next to Kip.

  “Checkmark in the good column, right?” Bri asks, looking far less convinced.

  “Maybe it’s my happy mojo talking.” Kip pauses to drink. “But the way you all go on about him, Benton seems determined. I think they’ll surprise you.”

  “I hope so, Kip.” And without thinking, I slip my hand into his, lacing our fingers resting on the tabletop.

  Bri shoots a low key side smile at me.

  When Kip turns away from us to answer something Garret asks him, she uses her fingers to form a heart over her heart, eliciting a major eye roll from me.

  “But if it doesn’t go his way, what do we do, then?” I ask the group and sip on my way too hot to be drinking yet coffee.

  “She’ll run from us.” Bri’s right. Elle’s a runner.

  “Maybe we tape signs to her car or stalk her down with mochas until she agrees to talk with us again?” I offer.

  “Don’t think it’ll be a problem,” Errol starts. “No one look.”

  It’s comical to take in the table full of heads obviously straining not to turn. Turning is all you want to do when someone says don’t look.

  And I can feel their bodies warming my side before they speak. We’re all doing so well waiting for one of them to go first until Errol chokes and coughs on his coffee. His eyes bugging hard. Every single one of us turns.

  Ben and Elle stand next to me, holding hands. They’re holding hands. She’s standing next to my boy like they’re an actual couple. Seems the weekend really has been productive.