And then we’re both quiet and I know I somehow let her down. Or maybe that’s not really it. Maybe she just wants more for me.
The smile is suddenly. Deep lines etch across her forehead and she looks older…sicker, that quickly. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
My heart fucking stops and my chest sinks in. I don’t want to have this conversation with her. The thought makes me want to puke, hit something. Pretty much do anything rather than talk about this with her. “I’m fine.”
“Colton, I know—”
“No,” I shake my head at her and get up. “We’re not going there, okay? I just wanted to check on you. Are you sure you’re good?”
“Yes, Doctor. I’m fine. I was checked out.”
I shake my head at her, but I can tell she’s just having fun with me. Fun. I don’t get how she can do that. How she can know what’s happening and not be freaking out. Makes me feel like a pussy because she’s handling it so much better than I am.
“Are you hungry? I can make us some lunch?” She doesn’t eat much, but she has these shakes that she likes. Sometimes she eats light stuff, soups and shit like that.
“I’d like that.”
I head to the kitchen and make us each a sandwich that I know she won’t eat. There’s a big pot of soup in the fridge so I warm some up for us. I eat my soup while she sips hers. She asks about my classes like she always does.
My cell blows up the whole time, but I ignore it. Hate dealing with that shit when I’m with her.
“I want a tattoo,” Mom says out of the blue. I almost choke on a noodle. She’s always giving me hell about my tatts. She hates them. Thinks they’re pointless so her words couldn’t shock me more.
“I thought you hated tattoos.”
“Things change.”
Fuck. Yeah. They do. I wonder if this is one of those bucket list things. Something she’s decided she had to do before she goes. “Okay,” I shrug. “We’ll go sometime.”
“Soon,” Mom says. That simple word is like a knife slicing through me, cutting me from my neck down. I suddenly don’t want to take her to get a tattoo anymore. If she can’t do the things on her list, she can’t go. It’s not right otherwise. “They say it should be something important. It’s…something I want to take with me.”
“What?” My voice cracks.
Mom smiles. “I’m not telling yet. I’m still trying to figure out the details.”
I try to play her happy game the rest of lunch. Talk about charades. I give Chey shit about hers, but look at me. My whole fucking life is a game.
After lunch I clean up the mess. Her nurse walks in and smiles at me and my cell goes off again. It’s an excuse, but I take it. I’m no better than my dad since I can’t stay around.
“I gotta go. I have some stuff to take care of. You want me to help you into bed before I go?”
Mom yawns and I know she needs it. She gives me a small nod and I wheel her to her room. I swear she’s lost even more weight. It’s like picking up a kid when I put her into bed, kiss her bald head again. “No more getting out of bed by yourself. You have help for a reason.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she smiles again.
I walk to the door, but stop before I leave. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I turn to her and say. “I’ll try and bring her by, ‘kay? I don’t know when, but I’ll see what I can do.”
It’s a huge fucking step and a dumb one at that. But I’ll do it. For mom, even if the whole thing with Cheyenne is a lie.
Even from across the room I see the tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her, Colton.”
I feel more like shit when I leave than I did when I got here.
***
I make a quick stop at the house and grab what I need. My gut churns the whole time. Mom would hate this part of me. Hate that I’m doing the same thing my dad did, but for me it’s because I have to, not because I want to. Nothing makes this kind of money and lets me work on my own schedule so when Mom has a problem, I can be there.
I make the stops I need and get the money. I don’t like people coming to our place if I can avoid it.
I think about going to Cheyenne’s. I told her we’d hook up later and yeah, I want it. To lose myself in her so I don’t have to think about all the other stuff, but I feel too raw. Too laid open to let her get close. To risk her getting inside.
Still, I turn away from the house and toward the dorms. I need to forget more. I know how to hold myself in check. Hell, I don’t even have to try. It’s no different with her.
I park the car and text her. My phone rings about three seconds later and I smile. “How you getting me in?”
“Who said you’re coming in? Maybe I’m doing homework.”
“I’m more fun than homework.”
“You know this would be much easier if I went with you.”
“Yeah, but this is more exciting.” I don’t know why I don’t want her at my place right now. Maybe it’s Adrian and his psychic-ass that’ll say things I don’t want to hear.
Cheyenne chuckles. “Go around the right side of the building. Toward the back, there’s a door. I need to make sure the RA isn’t around. I’ll text you if she is. If not, the door will be open in about three minutes.” She doesn’t wait for me to reply before she hangs up.
I slam the door to Adrian’s car and I’m halfway around the building when I realize the buzz beneath my skin is real. The excitement, eagerness. For the first time, in a long ass time I really want something.
And I know it’s the bulge behind my fly making me think this way, but it still feels pretty fucking good.
~CHAPTER EIGHTEEN~
Cheyenne
I shove the picture of Mom under my mattress and jump out of bed. I didn’t expect him to get a hold of me again today, but I’m glad he did. Glad I can shove the memories away and let Colt distract me.
I slip on a pair of slippers and a bra, even though I might not have it on for long, before sneaking out the door and down the hall. Thankfully the RA is nowhere in sight, but I have to steer clear of the front entrance. It’s guarded like a high security prison.
My heart beats fast, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m scared of getting caught, excited to see him, or because once it’s broken it goes haywire from time to time.
I ignore it all because Colt gives me something to concentrate on.
When I get to the door I eye the halls to make sure no one’s around before I slide my card and the door clicks open. Colt’s standing there wearing the same thing he did earlier and a smirk that mixes “Cocky Colt” and something I don’t recognize.
“Don’t give me that look.” I shake my head.
“The look that says you got down here awful quick?”
“Who came to who?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think anyone could blame me. You gonna let me in?”
“Yeah. Make sure you’re quiet. If we get caught, I don’t know you. You’re just some creepy stalker who’s following me up to my room.” I turn to walk away, but Colt grabs my arm.
“Is your roommate here?”
I roll my eyes because it’s a little late for him to ask me that. Colt seems to get it because he gives me another smirk and then his lips find mine. I’m squeezed between the wall and his hard body and all I can think is, damn this man can kiss.
Colt’s hands move to my hips as though he’s trying to hold me in place. I want to tell him I’m not going anywhere, but my mouth is too busy being devoured by his.
“I have a room for this,” I’m finally able to say when his lips go to my throat.
“I couldn’t wait. I’ve already been a saint.” He pulls away and I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.
The rattle of a doorknob sounds from behind us. I grab Colt’s hand and turn down a hall. It’s the long way, but we can still get to my room from here. The risk of getting caught is more likely, but I’m pretty sure no one besides the RA would care.
This is the only kind of situation where Colt would let me lead him around. We’re not running, but walking fast and for the first time, I realize these hallways are way too long.
I turn again, before slipping into a stairwell. We’re both up the stairs and then my head is out a door to make sure no one is in the hall. My room is only three doors down, so we slip out. The second we’re inside his mouth finds mine again.
My instinct is to stop him. To use the hand I have on his hip and push him away. I mean, give a girl a minute. I haven’t let anyone take advantage of me in a long time, but then I remember this is what I want. He’s not taking advantage of anything. We both want the same thing, so instead of pushing, my hand on his hip pulls him closer.
Then he pulls away, but he’s still standing so close to me I can feel every part of him. Feel his desire for me. Colt’s breathing’s heaving and I feel the heat of it float across my neck. I’m stuck between asking him why he stopped and feeling slightly glad he did. This is new territory. How do you move forward when your plan is just to hook-up? Do we talk? Just go for it?
Stop it!
I hate that feeling—not knowing what to do. Without knowing it, Colt saves me. “You’re a dancer.”
I’m wondering how he knew, but then I remember the pictures on the dresser. Me and the girls on my dance team in high school. We’d just won state.
“I am.”
“Holy shit, I’m fucking around with a cheerleader.” Colt laughs.
“I’m not a cheerleader, I’m a dancer. And who cares if I was?”
Colt looks at me, steps back far enough that his eyes trace every single spot on my body. I shiver.
“You’re right. Why am I complaining?”
He steps closer again. So close. Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. I’m smarter than to tell him that though. His jean are slightly baggy like they always are, his legs on either side of me. His hands are on my hips, the finger of his right hand teasing the skin under my shirt.
“How’s your mom?” I ask. It feels right—talking to someone in a situation like this. I think. I don’t want to get too close to him, but I’m actually nervous and I’m not sure how to stop it. Talk or kiss? I know which one sounds like more fun.
He tenses just a little. “I don’t want to talk about my mom. Do you?”
I shake my head because he’s right. Talking is overrated.
Colt pulls off his shirt, hooks one of his fingers through mine and backs up. “Which bed?”
Oh, he’s good. He’s definitely done this before. I laugh because had this been a different situation. If I wanted more and he wasn’t so completely different from me, I could see how a girl could lose her head around him.
“Something funny?”
“The one on the right,” I say rather than answer.
Colt lies on my bed and pulls me down behind him. I expect him to go for my clothes, but instead he kisses me again.
“Blanket,” I mutter, between kisses.
“If you’re cold I’m doing something wrong.”
“What if my roommate comes home?”
“Wuss,” he teases, but grabs the blanket and pulls it over us. I don’t know why I needed it yet. It’s not like we’re undressed, but I somehow feel safer—like we’re not as laid bare as we were before.
I’m not sure if I mean clothes either.
Colt pushes a hand through my hair and takes my mouth again. It’s a slow exploration. Each sweep of his tongue sends little jolts of pleasure through me. They’re like an eraser, wiping away all the thoughts I don’t want to think about.
I’m surprised he’s not just going for it. This isn’t supposed to be about foreplay or anything else, but he’s taking his time and I’m grateful for it. Not that I would ever admit that. And the longer he’s here, the longer I don’t have to think about anything else.