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As soon as I sent it, I wanted to take it back.
“Darlin’,” a low voice whispered. “Mia, wake up.”
“No,” I murmured, trying to sink deeper into the couch cushions.
There was a sigh and then I felt arms moving underneath me. I was being lifted and carried, my face pressed against a warm chest and soft cotton. I snuggled into the embrace.
“Ah, fuck.”
“Stop saying that,” I said, refusing to open my eyes. I pretended it was a dream; in my dream, I could be vulnerable.
When I was awake I’d have to ignore this thing between us.
He set me down on the bed in the guest room and settled the comforter over me. I heard the faint sound of rain against the window.
“Stay,” I whispered when I felt Colt begin to move away.
“Mia,” he said, his voice dark, pleading.
“Please,” I begged. I wiggled over to give him room. I heard the unbuckling of a belt and then the sound of jeans hitting the floor, and something heavy being set down on the nightstand. Colt climbed into bed next to me and pulled me into the wall of his chest. His body curled around mine as his lips brushed my ear.
I let out a sigh. “I’m not catching feelings.”
There was a soft rumble against my back as Colt’s hand wormed its way under my shirt and rested on my stomach. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
The next morning I woke up alone and confused; there was no evidence of Colt having slept in bed next to me. I bit my lip when I thought of him pressed against me from behind. I’d never felt safer.
After I got dressed in a pair of cut off shorts and a T-shirt, I headed downstairs, both dreading and hoping to see Colt. He was in the kitchen, dressed for the day and drinking a cup of coffee.
His eyes roved over me, lingering on my legs. “Mornin’,” he drawled.
“Morning,” I replied, heading to the coffeemaker and pouring myself a cup.
“You’re a very…active sleeper.”
His sensuous tone had my hand shaking, and I spilled the coffee I was pouring. I set the coffee pot back in its place and then grabbed the dishtowel hanging off the fridge to mop up the mess.
I looked at him over my shoulder. “What does that mean?”
Colt’s smile was slow. Hot. A rush of embarrassed desire flamed my cheeks, but I held his gaze. He didn’t lose his smile. I wanted to wipe it off his face. I dropped the dishrag and walked over to him. Just when I thought I was in control, Colt reached out to grasp my hips, hauling me toward him. He settled me onto his lap and then his hand was holding the back of my neck. His brown eyes looked liquid.
“Joni gave me some interesting insight about you,” I said.
“Oh yeah?”
I nodded. “She said something about you wanting to keep me.”
“What if I do?”
“What changed?”
“You get one life. One life to be free, to choose how you live. You want to leave town? I’ll make sure you can do that—and not have Dev on your ass. No use leaving town if you have to keep looking over your shoulder and feel like you’re on the run. But I’ve also been doing some thinking,” he admitted. “Ever since I walked into Dive Bar and kissed you. It was like I’d been surviving this whole time, but not really living.” He stared at me with deep brown eyes. “You get what I mean, yeah?”
I nodded. I knew what it was like to float from one moment to the next. Not really sad, but not happy either. Just…there.
“Each day we’re one step closer to the end. Don’t want to die and wish I’d really lived.”
I was drugged by his words. A spectator weighing in might think we didn’t know each other at all, that because of circumstances, I’d turned to him in an hour of need. But maybe Colt needed me too. Maybe we needed each other and it didn’t matter what it looked like on the outside.
