by Dayo Benson
"You didn't reply," he says. "I didn't know whether you were coming."
I play with my hair, suddenly feeling small and self-conscious before this mountainous man. "A little suspense never hurt anybody."
Colby digs his hands into his pockets. "I've thought of nothing else today but you."
His admission shocks me because he strikes me as the kind of guy to hold his cards close to his chest.
I can't return the sentiment. I've mostly thought of Mom and Nana all day. But Colby is the reason I've been thinking of Mom and Nana, so I guess we're pretty much on the same track.
"I have two secrets," he tells me. "I don't want to do this." He waves a hand between us. "Because you'll leave when I tell you my secrets. But I will tell you at some point. My brother's girl accepted him despite his secrets. Maybe, by some act of God, you'll do the same."
"Since we're being all cryptically honest here," I say, "I'll confess that I have a secret, too. I'll tell you what it is on Monday." After I've ditched Timothy and it becomes a non-issue.
Colby looks at me for a moment. "If it's something ridiculous like 'I wear my concealer over my foundation instead of the other way around like the beauty experts say' I'm going to deck you."
Ha! He thinks I can't possibly have any 'real' secrets. He's going to be so surprised. And probably pissed off.
I have to say I'm impressed by the Paris Hilton voice he just put on when he said that. He has the raw talent to make a pretty good actor.
I wonder whether I should wait longer than Monday to tell him my secret. I don't want him feeling any pressure about our relationship. Knowing I dumped my fiancé to be with him might make him run.
I give him a suspicious look. "You know about concealer and foundation?"
"Guys aren't meant to know?"
"I don't know. You've never mentioned having sisters." I realize he could have picked up makeup knowledge from ex-girlfriends, but I don't like to think about any girls that may have gone before me.
"I have a mom."
"Right. Of course, you have a mom. Everyone has one of those."
Colby is giving me his 'I think you're weird but I also think you're adorable' look. I figure I'm going to have to get used to receiving that look from him.
"By the way, I'm not wearing concealer, foundation or any makeup. Just so you know, this is au naturel."
Colby looks surprised. "You didn't put on makeup to come and see me?"
"Nope."
"Not even a quick powder of your nose in the car?"
"No. I didn't drive. I walked. And I don't think people powder their noises anymore."
Colby gives me sideways glance. "You're hot."
"Not as hot as the peppermint latte you're going to buy me," I say stepping around him and heading into Starbucks.
I hear him chuckle as he follows.
Chapter 15
"Do you have a child?" I ask Colby as we settle down inside Starbucks, on the same side of a corner table with low couches.
He frowns at me.
"I'm trying to guess your secrets," I explain.
"No. I don't have a child. Do you?"
"No."
Colby sips his coffee.
"Do you have a weird tattoo on your butt?"
Colby chokes and almost spits out his coffee.
I pass him a paper napkin, trying not to giggle. "Sorry."
"No," he says, "I don't have weird tattoos anywhere." He pauses.
"What?" I ask.
"I have a non-weird tattoo on my chest." He lifts his shirt.
All my light-hearted mirth vanishes.
Colby's abs are rippling with muscle. There's a smattering of dark hair on his chest.
Goodness gracious! I can't handle all this hotness.
I fix my gaze on the tattoo of a cross on his left breast.
He tugs his shirt back into place. "What does my southern missionary kid think of tattoos?"
Mom and Nana are staunchly against such things, but I don't know what I personally believe. "I still like you."
Colby cocks a brow.
Before he can mock me for using such a schoolgirl phrase, I ask another question. "Do you take drugs?"
He says he doesn't drink, and I believe him. He has no reason to lie. But he was under the influence of some kind of substance in the middle of the night.
Colby gives me an exasperated look. "Hey. Stop trying to guess my secrets. I'll tell you when I'm ready. Okay?"
"Okay." I sip my drink. It's deliciously sweet with a subtle kick from the peppermint. It slides down my throat and warms my belly. All is well in the world.
"What church do you go to?" I ask Colby. "Are they cool with tattoos in your church?"
Colby sips his drink.
I watch him and try not to think of how those lips were on mine last night.
I'm suddenly flustered and hyper-aware of how close we're sitting. Why did he choose to sit beside me rather than on the opposite side of the table?
"I don't go to church anymore," he says.
I frown. "You don't?"
"Is that a deal-breaker for you? I believe in God but not in religion."
"What the hell does that mean?"
He nudges my knee with his. "I don't think someone like you can understand."
I immediately try to understand. I think of Gina. She's like Colby. I know she's a Christian. But for whatever reason, she won't attend church. She occasionally attends a Thursday night campus fellowship but that's it.
I decide I'll invite Colby to church sometime and see what happens. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't go to church.
"I'm trying to work myself into going back to church," Colby tells me. "Maybe you can help me with that."
I'm delighted. I remember that he told me he made a bargain with God and promised to get back on track with God. "I'd be honored if I can play some part in your quest to get back on track with God."
I should be able to help him return to church. He obviously believes in God so that's half the battle already won.
Colby's face becomes this cool mask that I don't like. I can't tell what he's thinking. His expression is giving nothing away. "You want to make me your lil' project?" he asks.
"No. I just want to help. If you want me to."
"Okay." Colby nods. "Thanks."
I sip my latte.
"I know what you're thinking," Colby says.
"What am I thinking?"
"Every Christian girl's nightmare is a boyfriend who is going to pressure her for sex."
There are certain words a man as devastatingly gorgeous as Colby should never say around a girl who's trying not to lose her senses around him. I force my expression to stay relaxed.
"Even though I don't go to church, right now," Colby says, "I did grow up in church and I know what kind of relationship you want. I want the same thing. I want you to know I'm not going to pressure you for anything. I'll treat you with respect. Our relationship will be about connecting in other ways."
I'm touched that he wants to put me at ease. "I actually wasn't thinking that, but I do find that reassuring. Thank you."
Colby looks down into his drink.
He's avoiding my gaze.
He's not as confident as he acts. My chest is growing warm. And it's not because of my latte.
"I didn't get the College Life role that I wanted," I tell him, changing the subject.
Colby looks up.
"They gave me a different, lesser role."
"Are you happy?"
"Yeah. Kind of. I'll be in three episodes. More if they like me. Filming starts next week. I started memorizing the script between classes today."
This weekend is going to be busy so I figured that, the sooner I started working on it, the better.
"Let's see the script," Colby says.
I dig into my purse and take out the script for the first episode. I hand it to him.
He sets down his coffee. "Check out that girl by the bar," he rea
ds.
But he doesn't just read. He looks at me and gives me a leering look.
I giggle as he puts on different voices for the two guys discussing my character. Then one of them approaches my character. "Hey, you come here often?" he asks.
"I'm waiting for my boyfriend," I reply.
"What time's he gonna get here?" Colby asks.
I rake a hand through my hair and look around. "Any minute now."
"I'll keep his seat warm."
I give Colby a 'go away' look.
Colby leans forward, holding my gaze. "Does your boyfriend ever tell you how beautiful you are?"
He's a good actor. He's totally believable.
We act the whole scene, sitting there in Starbucks.
My character isn't really waiting for any boyfriend. She's single. And the scene ends with her giving the dude her number.
But my character is one weird chick. Something the guy won't discover until their first date when she does all kinds of embarrassing things. It's a comedy after all. I haven't played many funny roles, but I've enjoyed it the few times I have.
Colby turns his body towards me on the couch and trails a finger down the side of my face. "I can't wait to see where things lead."
It's still only acting, so there's no need for the sudden thrashing in my heart.
I say nothing. It's the end of the scene. My character is supposed to give him a lingering smile and then walk away.
I give Colby the smile I've practiced and his gaze dips to my lips.
My brain stops working as he lowers his head.
When his lips touch mine, I expect the same explosion in my heart as last night.
It's worse.
I don't know how I could possibly feel any more overwhelmed than last night.
His kiss completely pulls me under. I'm drowning. I can't breathe. I can't think. I'm incapable of anything right now.
When Colby pulls away, I miss his closeness, but I'm grateful.
I don't understand my feelings. They're scary.
I need to work through them later when I'm alone, and figure out what's going on.
"That wasn't in the script," he tells me in a soft voice. "But I thought the scene needed a kiss."
I can't speak.
He looks at the script again.
For the next few minutes, he's silent as he begins to read through the script again from the beginning. It must be super interesting to him since it's a script for a real TV series.
I hand him the scripts for the next two episodes and we read them aloud, me taking my character and any female roles, and him reading all the males.
It's fun.
He's like a male version of Leah and Gina. A friend who helps me out with learning my lines.
But the crazy feelings he kindles in me make him so much more than just a friend.
When we finish, over an hour has passed.
Colby looks at his watch. "Can I see you again tomorrow evening? I'm working tonight, otherwise I could have stayed longer."
I nod. "Okay."
"We can go to this jazz lounge I like. It's called The Blue Room. And we can catch a movie on Friday night. We should also go to the art gallery together on Saturday morning."
He wants to see me every day.
I think he likes me.
It's an effort to control the huge grin that wants to break loose.
Colby seems to mistake my silence for reluctance. "I guess you can't hang out every night. You have to prepare for filming next week and you must have college work to do, too."
"Nah, I can hang out."
"Sure?"
"Of course. But I'm going home this weekend, so I can't do Saturday."
"Ah, you're going to miss an exhibition about radioactive rocks," Colby says, standing.
I rise too. "I know. But you can tell me all about it."
We head out of Starbucks.
"I'll walk you to your car," Colby says. "Did you leave it at the college campus?"
"Actually, I let my friend drive it home."
Colby looks at his watch again. "I would give you a ride, but I really can't be late for this appointment."
"Don't worry. I'll take a taxi."
Colby looks at me for a moment and then he hands me his car keys. "I'll take a taxi. You can drive my car."
My brows fly up to my hairline. First of all, his car is not normal. It's this sleek, expensive-looking thing that is probably his pride and joy. Secondly, it's a big deal to let someone drive your car, even if it isn't a cool car.
"No, Colby. I'll take a taxi."
"Are you a terrible driver?" he asks.
"No."
"Then I insist. I'll get it back from you tomorrow when we meet up at the jazz lounge. It's parked around the block."
He points, brushes a kiss to my cheek and then hails a passing taxi.
Driving Colby's car around town makes me feel so good. Apart from the awed looks I'm getting from strangers, especially young guys, who are obviously wondering what on earth I do to be able to afford such a car, I feel good because it shows how seriously Colby is thinking about 'us'.
He trusts me.
He's into that cheesy kind of relationship where you share each other's stuff.
I'm all for that.
I looked his car up online when I got home last night. It's an Aston Martin. James Bond's car. A brand new one costs a hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Colby's property development business must be doing really well.
It's even more of an incentive for me to be successful and contribute to the joint account we're going to have when we get married.
I imagine our lifestyle. We won't be lavish, but we'll live well. Nice, big house, flashy cars, and society parties. We'll have a baby girl, and we'll adopt a baby boy from South Africa. We'll also start a charity organization and do lots of good all over the world.
We'll work hard until Colby becomes Hollywood's biggest writer/director, and I'm Hollywood's favorite actor. America's darling. Our life is Pinterest-perfect and Instagram-immaculate.
Just then, the blast of a horn behind me snaps me out of my daydream.
I'm at a stop light that has turned green. I quickly try to drive and stall the car.
I try again. This time, the car glides forward with hardly a sound.
I am in love with this car.
And I'm falling in love with its even more amazing owner.
I realize that my daydreams about Colby are pathetic, but daydreams are allowed to be pathetic. God has given us all the power of imagination so that we can think unrealistic things akin to shooting for the moon. In real life, we'll fall among the stars, but that's better than aiming for something 'realistic' and 'safe' and falling in the gutter.
All day, Colby and I have been texting each other. He sent me a text at two a.m. which I didn't see until I woke up at five to work on my lines. I texted him back and told him I was working on my lines until eight. He didn't text back until eight on the dot to ask me how it went. I told him it went great. All morning, we exchanged texts during my classes. At lunchtime, he sent me a voice note.
I replay it in my mind as I drive: I don't know what's going on Chloe. I don't think I've ever felt like this before. I can't even believe I'm admitting it.
I replied with a text telling him that I feel the same way.
I think Colby is 'the one'. We've known each other exactly seven days and it's already obvious. There's something special going on here.
In the afternoon there were fewer texts, and I figured Colby was busy at work. He still managed to text me three times, though.
Now, I'm heading home to get changed and make myself look good for our date at The Blue Room. I've checked it out online. The menu looked good and they have live music each night.
Leah says she's been there with Andrew and thinks I'll love it. I've been pretty much nowhere in D.C. except college, church, and the art gallery. Until now, I've had nobody to go anywhere with.
I want
to be careful about going too fast with Colby, but at the same time it's exhilarating to feel this way.
I'm humming when I get home and enter the house. Leah and Andrew are just leaving for a date. Leah looks amazing in a deep purple dress and killer heels.
Andrew can barely take his eyes off her long enough to say hi to me.
"Can I borrow your red dress?" I ask her as I head up the stairs.
She told me the atmosphere at The Blue Room is really chilled and oh so conducive to kissing so I need to be careful. But I still want to dress up nice.
"Of course," Leah says slowly.
I know she doesn't like what I'm doing.
"Come up to my bedroom for a minute," I call over my shoulder.
I hear her following.
She enters my bedroom after me and shuts the door.
"I'm going to ditch Timothy this weekend," I tell her.
She exhales. "Okay. I was going to sit you down and tell you that you need to stop seeing another man behind your fiancés back. I'm glad you've come to a decision about the situation."
"I have."
"If you're sure about this Colby guy, then I'm happy for you. But just be careful. You don't know much about him yet."
I nod a little too vigorously to convince her that I'm being careful.
However, I think Leah needs to give Colby a break. The minute I told her the price of his car yesterday, she got all suspicious. Like, doesn't she realize that there are wealthy people out there, and they're not all drug dealers or pimps?
"By the way," she says, "The Blue Room is smart casual. My red dress would be too much."
"Oh. Okay."
She heads for the door.
"Have fun with Andrew," I tell her, opening my makeup box.
"You know I will," she replies. Then she winks at me and leaves.
I take forever getting dressed. Since The Blue Room is smart casual, I settle for a white blazer, blue jeans, and a bright pink shirt. I put on dangly earrings and a few bracelets, then I take an obscene amount of time doing my makeup. I then blow my hair to make the curls a little looser.
Gina is just coming in as I'm on my way out. She looks exhausted. When I woke up at five this morning, she was already awake. The girl needs some sleep.
"Hey, Gina," I sing.
"Somebody looks happy," she grumbles.
