Page 54 of Fake it for Keeps

“Get off me,” I hissed.

“Colt—”

“I said get off.” I pushed her hands away and stumbled out of bed, my legs unsteady. “You have no idea what kind of stress I carry. Being Colt Jesson, running a billion-dollar company, living up to my father’s legacy. You don’t⁠—”

I stopped, realizing I was rambling. Saying things I didn’t mean just to push her away.

Hallie sat in the bed, the covers pooled around her waist, her expression hurt and confused. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” I grabbed a sweatshirt from my bag, pulling it on with shaking hands. “I’m fine. Just a bad dream. Happens to everyone.”

“Colt, that wasn’t just a bad dream. You were⁠—”

“What? What was I?” I turned on her, anger flooding in to fill the space where the fear had been. Anger was easier. Safer. “Go ahead. Say it. I was what?”

She stared at me, and I could see her trying to choose her words carefully. “You seemed really scared. And that’s okay. Everyone has nightmares⁠—”

“I’m not everyone.” I snatched my shoes and shoved my feet inside before I moved toward the door. “And I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me or trying to play therapist or whatever this is.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“I need air. I’m going for a walk.”

“Colt, it’s three in the morning⁠—”

I was already out the door.

The hotel was silent at this hour. Thankfully, the hallways were empty. I walked without direction, just needing to move, to get away from Hallie’s concerned eyes and gentle voice.

Away from the images still playing on repeat in my mind.

I ended up in the lobby, where a lone night attendant looked up from his computer with surprise. “Mr. Jesson? Is everything alright? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded but didn’t look convinced. I kept walking, pushing through the doors into the cold night air.

Snow was still falling, lighter now but steady. The grounds were blanketed in white, pristine and untouched. I walked down one of the paths, my breath forming clouds in front of me, the cold biting through my sweatshirt.

But I welcomed the cold. It was grounding. Real.

Unlike the nightmare that still clung to my thoughts.

I found myself at a bench overlooking the ocean and sank onto it, not caring that snow immediately soaked through my sweatpants. I closed my eyes and saw her face.

Lauren.

The girl next door. Literally. Her family’s estate had been right next to ours when we were growing up. Our parents had been friends. We’d spent summers together in my pool, winters on ski trips, springs at the country club.

I’d known her my entire life. Had been in love with her since I was fifteen.

She was blonde, athletic, always tan from hours in the sun. But her beauty came from more than just her looks. She was kind. Smart. She got my humor, called me on my bullshit, made me want to be better.

We’d started officially dating senior year of high school. It was easy. We had been friends for so long, dating just came naturally.

But it had become serious. Fast.

By the time we graduated, I knew I wanted to marry her. I was eighteen and stupid and so fucking sure that what we had was forever.