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Thankfully, I find my balance before I hit the ground and make a fool of myself.
The first thing I notice is how broad his shoulders are. How his white t-shirt stretches to accommodate them, but it’s loose everywhere else. Those shoulders taper down to a narrow waist, jeans that hang low on his hips, and combat boots that have been left unlaced.
Then my eyes are drawn to his hand as he reaches up and pushes his light brown strands away from his face, tucking them behind his right ear. They’re long enough to graze his impressive shoulders, but they don’t want to stay contained, falling in his face and grazing his five o’clock shadow as soon as he turns his head.
My feet move of their own accord, closing the distance between where Kora and I were standing and the stage, appraising him from head to toe. It’s too dark to see the color of his eyes, so I have to imagine what they might look like. Maybe a vibrant shade of green or a sandy brown.
The very eyes I’m envisioning fall to where I stop directly in front of him, only a few feet from center stage. Gia slides up on my right, Kora my left. They crowd around me as I stare up at the first man to stir a feeling inside me I don’t recognize.
“You’re going to love them!” Gia hollers over the roar of the crowd as the first strum of the guitar echoes through the trees.
She’s not wrong. Two songs in and the depth of his voice has me in a trance. I can’t look away. I’m struggling for breath. Mostly, I’m thankful Kora and Gia have linked arms with me because my legs are shaking, and I’m not sure I could stand on my own right now.
There’s a scuffle behind me, and when I turn, I find Cleo in a heated argument with a tall, light-haired guy. He looks like he could be a basketball player in his athletic shorts and t-shirt. There’s a tattoo peeking out from under his right sleeve. But it’s the indifference on his face as Cleo pokes her finger close to his nose that has a shiver crawling up my spine.
I hate conflict. I hate negativity. I try to be a peacekeeper in all situations. I’ve been put in the middle of too many situations in my life that have made me uncomfortable. I certainly don’t want to be drawn into whatever the hell is going on between them.
Kora releases my arm and takes a step away when Gia pulls her back, whispering something in her ear. Whatever she says is enough to ensure Kora stays put.
My heart rate increases as I watch Cleo lose her shit, stomping her foot on the ground. My instinct to run is overwhelming, and with all the people crowding around, I start to panic.
Excusing myself, I quickly make my way through the throngs of people as the song ends. Once I clear all the bodies, I skirt around the side of the stage and rest against a large oak tree. Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around my middle, pulling my jacket closed to ward off the chill.
The world around me goes silent as I try to center myself, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I count backward from one hundred. By the time I reach sixty, I can already feel my heart rate decreasing and my anxiety easing slightly.
Then I hear the voice I’ve been lost in for the last thirty minutes.
“Hey.”
My eyes pop open to find him standing only a few feet away from me, his hands tucked in his front pockets. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me, taking me in, but the light shining behind him casts his face in the shadows.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve memorized every contour already.
“Are you okay?”
“F-f-fine.” But am I? Fine? I could barely get the word out.
“You ran out on the show.” He noticed? “I thought maybe you didn’t like the song.”
When I don’t answer, he takes a step toward me. A second step and he’s within my reach, and I find myself reaching out even though I have no idea why, my hand landing on his chest to find it firm beneath my palm.
That doesn’t stop him from moving closer. From wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling my body against his.
“I’m Colt,” he says, tilting my chin up with the tips of his fingers.
“Scarlet.”
I’ve barely gotten my name out before his lips meet mine.
I haven’t thoughtabout that night in a while. I try not to. It only brings back memories of regret and animosity.
Regret for not staying even though I wanted to run.
Animosity toward Cleo for causing a scene. Forcing my hand and taking away my choice. If she hadn’t been out of control that night, maybe Colt and I could have gotten to know each other better.
Hell, we might have even dated for a while.
Which leads to my animosity for Colt. He’s never once mentioned that night. We’ve crossed paths multiple times, and he’s always acted like it never happened. Like he has no idea who I am.
