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I poked him in the side. “Hush. Don’t ruin the moment.”
He grinned before offering, “Sorry.”
“Forgiven,” I answered, resting my head on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me try that.”
“Welcome,” he whispered and ran his hand over my hair wrap. “Thank you for trying.”
With nothing more to say between us, we lay there, quiet, relaxing in the aftermath of what I thought was a very pivotal moment in our relationship.
Colton had just trusted me enough to take him where he’d allowed no one to go. This couldn’t just be sex for him then, either. It just couldn’t be.
But I stayed awake, stressing about it, wondering, worrying if I was setting myself up for some epic heartbreak. He hadn’t mentioned anything about
letting his brother in on the fact we were together now, but then I guessed I hadn’t brought up my dad either.
Maybe I should be the first to broach the subject. Maybe it’d prompt him to say he didn’t want to keep us a secret either, that he wanted more than just sex.
I didn’t know. Maybe I was just overthinking it because what was going to happen was going to happen no matter how much I worried.
Colton shifted against me, and I noticed his breathing had changed. I wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but it only made me feel more protective of him. My hand smoothed over his hair. I’d do anything to keep him happy.
I couldn’t believe some wicked bitch had traumatized him like that and given him nightmares. I wanted to find her and—
Wait…
The night of Brandt’s wedding, he’d told me his mother had caused his nightmares, not…
I shook my head as the pieces from all the things he’d ever told me began to fall into place.
And then it struck me.
I sat straight up in the dark and gasped. “Holy shit.”
It had been his mother who’d molested the other boy, not some other boy’s mother, unless...
Oh my God, what if both him and the other boy had the same mother? Like they’d been brothers.
And if that boy had been thirteen when Colton had been eight, then that made a five-year age difference between them.
Brandt was five years older than Colton.
I glanced over at the man sleeping soundly next to me and whispered, “Oh my fucking God.”
COLTON’S CHAPTER | 25
“Let’s go out,” I suggested the next night as I patted Julianna’s thigh in encouragement.
It was night two of Aunt Flow’s visit and since there was no action going to go on in the apartment—except for that one little blow job I’d begged from her about two seconds after I’d arrived, but that had been nearly two hours ago—I was getting cabin fever.
Even Juli’s roommates were gone. She told me they often disappeared whenever she had her period because it made her so cantankerous, though I’d yet to see her even mildly moody.
Glancing up from the really boring show on the television we’d been watching about how cement was made, she blinked at me from big brown eyes.
“And do what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Let’s get something to eat.” We hadn’t had supper, and I was always ready to eat.
She blinked as if startled. “You want to go out to dinner with me?”
