“It doesn't beat your view,” I argue. “We don’t really get to see the sunset from here, or the sunrise. We’re buried in trees. But if you go down to the dock and look to the left, you can see the sunset,” I explain. “Sorry, I’m babbling again…”
He smiles, a soft sexy grin. “You are not.”
I blush.
Damn. I know exactly what that means. I don’t blush often, and when I do, it’s usually because I have a serious crush. I can’t even remember the last time I blushed like this.
“What’s your name, Mister?” Christian asks. “I forgot already.”
Colton laughs. “Colton Rossi,” he says. “And what’s your name again?” he quips. “I forget too.”
Christian stands a little straighter. “Christian Scott.”
Colton nods. “That’s a good name, kid. You’ll go far with a name like that. Great name.”
Christian beams, and I’m surprised that such few words could have such an impact on him. But then again, there’s just something about Colton. Sure, I was joking about him being the most interesting man in the world, but he does have that quality about him, that something I can’t quite put my finger on. And that’s exactly why I need to be careful. I can’t be falling head over heels for this guy, only to discover that I’m just the flavor of the week. I’m nobody’s flavor of the week. Once you have a taste of me, I’m all you can have, so you better fucking like the taste of me.
“You want to walk down to the water?” I ask him.
Christian takes off running before Colton can even reply. “I can beat you there,” he calls out as his tiny legs go at rocket speed.
“I guess we’re going down,” I say, sheepish. “Is that okay?”
He smiles. “Yes, I’d love to see. You lead the way.”
“There are sixty-two stairs leading down to the water,” I explain as we set off toward the lookout deck. “My grandparents left it to my mom when they moved to a retirement home. They couldn’t take the stairs anymore. They’ve both passed on.”
“I’m sorry,” Colton says.
“Thanks. I didn’t know them very well. My mom left me the place when she set off to Spain with her boyfriend at the time. She doesn’t really like it here.”
“I beat you!” Christian yells out, standing on the dock, a small shape in the distance.
We stand at the lookout deck, a rest-stop of sorts. “This deck is for the way up,” I explain. “Some people need the break… a little rest.”
He smiles. “Do you need it?”
I shake my head. “No way. I’m used to it, and in tip-top shape.”
He eyes me from head to toe, and I feel a little plain in my ripped jeans and pink top. “I can see that,” he says.
I blush again. I’m hopeless.
We continue on our way, down the remaining forty stairs or so.
“How can your mother not love this place?” he asks. “It’s fantastic.”
“Small town charm is just not her thing. She loves cities, travel. She goes crazy in the same place for too long. She’s a wild child, my mom, a bohemian.”
He nods. “How about you?” he asks. “Do you go crazy in the same place for too long?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m a homebody. I must take after my dad.”
We’ve finally made it to the dock, and we take a seat on the blue chairs looking out onto the calm water. “We’re almost at the end of the bay. It’s very quiet here, very private,” he says.
“Yes, great kayaking and paddle boarding.”
“Yes, I can imagine. There are always Sea-Doos and speed boats zooming by in front of my place,” he says. “But I can’t really complain since I’m one of them.”
