Colt stormed off to his room as soon as we got home. Mrs. Fowler asked if anything had happened and I told her that I thought he and Marci had got into it. I couldn’t tell her the truth, although she’d probably have been proud.
“I’m so glad you had such a great time, honey. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever get into boys,” she teased. “Although, you know, we’d still love you, even if you liked girls...It would just make your betrothal a little harder to sell.” She winked.
“I’m not a lesbian, and I’m not marrying Colt. The sooner you all get that through your heads, the better.”
She giggled, wrapping a long tendril of my hair around her pale finger. “Stop fighting fate,” she whispered, kissing my forehead. “You two were made for each other...You’ll see,” she added, slipping her finger from my hair and walking off to her room before I could argue.
I huffed out a frustrated breath as I marched up the stairs. The butterflies that had lain dormant for most of the evening were stirring up a frenzy in my tummy. I rapped my knuckles lightly on Colt’s door. When he didn’t answer, I let myself in, noticing he’d already pulled out the trundle from beneath his bed. The trundle we had yet to use. We’d always slept together in his bed or in mine. He must be really pissed.
I listened to the steady spray of the water from the shower through his bathroom door, and a waft of his soap filled his small room. I sat on the edge of his bed, feeling dejected...longing for the days when we were still innocent kids making mud pies and riding our bikes up and down the dead-end street for hours and hours.
The bathroom lock clicked, and I sat up straighter, plastering a smile on my face to disguise the hurt. “Hey,” I whispered.
Colton walked over to his dresser, grabbed one of his undershirts and a pair of boxer shorts from the drawer, and tossed them next to me on his bed. He looked so sad, and I almost regretted the entire night. But then I remembered all the times I wore that same look. All the times he hurt me, and I got those emotions in check real quick.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Bathroom’s free.”
I rose from his bed, my heart sinking to my toes, as I walked past him into the bathroom that was still steaming from his shower. I wished he’d have grabbed my arm and pulled my body to his, finally confessing that he too felt all of the same things for me that I’d been feeling for him. But he didn’t. After shutting and locking the door, I sat on the edge of the tub, silently releasing all of the emotion that I could hardly contain any longer.
I slipped out of my dress and into his clothes, bunching the collar of his shirt into my hand and holding it to my nose, breathing in his familiar scent...wishing that things could be different. That there really was such a thing as fate. That the two of us really were destined to be together. That it wasn’t all just a bunch of bullshit that our parents had been feeding us since we were babies. I wished that they hadn’t planted those romantic ideas in my head. That it didn’t hurt so much to love him. Most of all, I wished that he’d loved me back.
When I was sure that he was asleep and I wouldn’t have to explain my red, swollen face, I crept out of the bathroom and found Colton quietly snoring on the trundle. He’d left me his bed. His body was curled into the fetal position, and his beautiful face turned toward the door.
Reluctantly, I climbed into his bed alone and stared at the bare skin of his back that had somehow begun to change from a boy’s into a man’s without my permission. I fought the urge to crawl down there and lie next to him. He wouldn’t push me away. But I respected his new boundaries, because one of us had to be strong enough to set some, and with tears soaking his pillow, I fell asleep to the familiar cadence of his quiet breaths.
COLTON (AGE 17)
“IF YOU BRING CHELSIE, I’ll bring Dean,” I offered. It was the end of our junior year, and our families were getting ready to go on our yearly trip to Alex’s grandparents’ beach house in Pensacola. I knew she had a thing for my buddy Dean, and as much as it grated on my nerves, I also knew it was the only way to get her to bring my new girlfriend, Chelsie.
She sucked on her teeth, shaking her head. “I really don’t like that girl, Colt.” But I could tell she was starting to reconsider. I could get Allie to do anything with the right motivation.
“Come on, Al...” I begged, sticking out my bottom lip. “Please? I really like her.”
She rolled her eyes. “You really like her big tits,” she accused.
I laughed. “I do...” I couldn’t lie to her any more than she could to me. It was pointless. So, I stuck with brutal honesty. “I’d really like to look at her big tits in a bikini for two weeks too,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
Oomph. The book that was just in Alex’s hands came flying at my chest. “Pig.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Guilty.”
There was only one girl I’d ever had feelings for, and she was shooting daggers at me from the foot of my bed. I’d given up on the idea of us a few years ago when I realized that she didn’t share the same feelings. It sucked, but I would take Allie any way I could. Even if it was only as friends. I still had the best parts of her, and I made up for the physical stuff with whatever girl tickled my pickle at the time. Currently, the position of pickle tickler belonged to Chelsie Montgomery, a blond, busty cheerleader that Allie barely tolerated. She gave good head and worshiped the ground I walked on. I needed a distraction from Alex if I was going to survive two weeks looking at her in a bathing suit. Last year, I’d nearly died of blue balls. True story.
“Why’s it have to be her? What about Jeanine? You seemed to get on pretty well at Ryan’s party last weekend, and I actually like her. What’s so special about Chelsie?”
I raised my brows. “Besides her tits?”
“Colton!”
“Fine...she, uh. She has good ball handling skills,” I teased, sucking in my bottom lip. Hey, she asked.
Her face turned beet red. “Stop with the basketball humor. It’s not funny.”
“Blocked by my best friend,” I pouted.
Her eyes rolled up in her head.
“Come on, Allie, it’s a little funny.”
She rewarded me with an evil glare. It was time to pull out the heavy artillery. I reached out my arms, pretending to stretch, and grabbed hold of her foot and began tickling her mercilessly. Alex fell back onto the bed, and I climbed over her, straddling her waist with my knees as I tickled her ribs.
She bucked and writhed beneath me, and as she rubbed against my crotch, I began to envision what it would be like to make love to my best friend. I tried not to think about how I knew she’d respond to my touch. How she always had.
Her hands began slapping at my chest, drawing me from my thoughts. “Get off, I’m gonna pee!” she shouted. “Fine! Fine! You win, Colt. Just stop it.”
“You’ll invite Chelsie?” I asked for clarification as I stopped the assault, but didn’t let her go.
She was gasping for breath as she answered, “Yes, goddamn it. Get off of me. And you better bring Dean.”
Dean...Fuck. “Deal.”