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Delaney pulls her phone out but I have no clue where she was storing it in what I'm guessing classifies as a dress. Up close, I can see the sequin fabric is acting like a second skin, her body looking like a mermaid tail covered in sparkling scales. I am tall enough I can see over her shoulder and I know I shouldn't but I glance down at what she is doing, my curiosity getting the best of me.
She has her messaging app open and I almost choke on plain air when I see my name at the top. Delaney is thinking about me, maybe even wondering why I haven't talked to her in several days. The reality being that I caught up with a project at work and was exhausted from laying in bed thinking about her and my thumbs forgot to text her. I'm sure in her mind, I am avoiding her, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Her thumbs move along the screen, the letters appearing and disappearing at lightning speed. I can't help wondering what she wants to write. Whatever it is, she keeps changing her mind. I lean my body forward more. My chest brushes against her hair and it's over.
"Who are you texting, Laney?" I whisper enough that only she can hear, but my proximity to her ear helps block out the club music blasting around us. I don't touch her, even though my hands are dying to snake around her and pull our bodies together.
She instinctively leans backwards just enough to brush against me and she knows exactly who is behind her. I am the only one that calls her Laney. At least I was. Maybe that has changed over the years, but the way her name tingles on my lips is the same as it has always been. I don't need a drink, I am already drunk from just being near her. Fuck,after all these years, I thought my anger would keep my dick from reacting to her. That, and knowing I emptied the chamber before I got here, should be enough to keep my boner at bay. But with how close our bodies are now, I know she can feel it against her.
"I wasn't texting anyone, I was deleting something actually. This guy I once knew rolled into my DMs the other night but then ghosted me. No need to keep those messages on my phone."
Delaney thinks she is being coy, acting like she isn't mad that we haven't talked. But I know her better than that.
"You can try to lie to me, sweetheart, but don't lie to yourself."
"You can try to lie to me, sweetheart, but don't lie to yourself."
Why do his words affect me so much? If I were wearing panties, they would be soaked from that statement alone. Even now, Colton can call my bluff. Without seeing my face or looking for tells, he knows that my words are bullshit.
I don't know how long he was standing behind me, but I'm guessing long enough to see my inner turmoil of sending him a message or not. I can't even blame the alcohol since I have only had one shot before we left the apartment and haven't gotten a drink here yet.
His raspy whisper in my ear has the same effect on me as alcohol would. My cheeks hear and I'm sure they are glowing pink. My mind spins and everything drifts into soft focus. Clenched hands are at my sides, their tight hold keeping me from reaching behind myself and pulling Colton closer to me.
Not that I need to bring our bodies any closer. I start drifting back towards him, like a magnet, the moment I heard his voice. I feel the hardness of him against me and I'm notsure if it's his leg or something else. He is taller than he was the last time I was this close to him, his pelvis now against my lower back instead of curved against my ass. I wonder if we would still fit together.
I roll my neck, my head moving to one side, trying to make things come back into focus. I let out a sigh that I know he can't hear over the music. Being caught in a lie by Colton is dangerous. He knows when I'm lying without seeing my face. It makes lying to him about why I left even more difficult. He will demand to know why.
Pressure slides against my dress, moving across my waist. The sequin fabric causes friction, forcing him to press harder against me, his fingers gliding onto my hip. He doesn't pull me closer, but instead keeps our bodies pressed together. I don't pull away and, against my better judgment, I might even lean into him just a little more. I can feel his breaths tickle the hairs on the back of my neck.
The group of people in front of us hasn't moved any closer to the bar, oblivious to what is happening behind them.
"Are you here alone?" I hate the question as soon as it drops from my lips, I know this isn't his scene. The answer isn't going to be something that I like, but it might be the reality check I need to break this spell he has me under.
"She's not you." And there it is. He is involved with someone else, one of my fucking friends, and this is crossing a boundary that shouldn't be crossed. My fingers wrap around his, pausing longer than they should, before prying them off my body and back towards him.
"Don't touch me, Colt." Without the contact, I can think more clearly, consider the other person involved, purge my mind from the daze he puts me in.
"It's not like that. Carina and I barely know each other. You and I ... well, there's history."
History that should be on unsolved cases. It hangs heavy between us, even when his soft fingers trace along my skin.
"Oh yeah? So what is it like then?" The people in front of me move and I follow, letting the new space between Colton and I breathe. My spine tingles, letting me know that he took a step forward to match mine, my body reacting to his continued presence.
"She wants it to be a thing but I am still hung up on an ex. You could say I'm emotionally unavailable."
"And did you say that to her? Because it seems like that's not a hint she has gotten."
The air from his chuckle brushes against my ear, finding its way onto my neck. My skin prickles as the goosebumps rise to the surface. It feels like it could be a hundred degrees in here with all the body heat and bright lights. But where his breath caressed my skin feels ice cold.
"There's never been anyone else for me, Laney. Not emotionally. Not physically. Not at all."
Colton's response forms a grin on my face. It wasn't what I was expecting from him and I keep my head turned away so he can't see the relief in my eyes. Not making emotional connections with other people I can understand if he is still processing the bullshit I put him through. But how could hepossibly have gone years without being touched by someone else?
"What can I get for you doll face?" The bartender breaks the tension and I am thankful for the distraction.
"Two Supernovas," I pause, letting the night unfold in my mind. "Make one a double." If I am going to get through watching Colton with Carina two nights in a row, I will need the alcohol to be stronger than my willpower.
"Make that three." His voice doesn't affect me the same way when he is shouting over the electronic beats pumping behind us, my skin leveling out and returning to room temperature. His tone isn't as sensual when it's not whispering in my ear.
