I roll my eyes not questioning why he took an old lady out for coffee or what he’s planning on doing with her number, because he’d counter my question with ‘why not?’. I’ve learned over the years there’s no method to Colt’s madness. He does what he does.
“Sounds fun.”
“No need to be a smart ass.” He pinches my leg. “I'm going to grab a shower.”
He leaves and I sip my coffee, thankful Colt’s a morning person because I’m not. I need a coffee to get out of bed and make the coffee.
I reach for my phone to check the time. I have to work tonight and don’t have a class until after lunch, so I have the morning to myself.
There’s a message notification and I frown, wondering who’d be messaging me. Thinking it was Colt asking if I prefer blondes or brunettes, I ignore it and climb out of bed. Sipping my coffee, I drag my feet into the kitchen to brew a fresh pot.
Colt bangs on the wall and shouts out my name. “Em!”
If he’s calling me in there to show me his stupid soapy beard and announce he’s Santa again, I’ll stab every last one of his basketballs.
I rub the spot above my nose between my eyebrows and yell through the door, “What?”
“Come here,” he calls again.
I bang my head against the closed door, contemplating if I should open it. If I don’t, he’ll keep yelling. If I do, who knows what I’ll find on the other side?
I crack the door open a sliver, enough that I can talk to Colt without yelling, not enough to be a witness to unspeakable things.
“What?” My voice is harsh and more irritable than normal.
“Ooh, should have got you an extra shot in your coffee this morning. Someone’s grouchy.”
“I’m not grouchy.”
I’m tired and wound up. Stupid dreams keeping me awake half the night. Dreams about Colt’s lips, and kisses where I have no business dreaming about him kissing me. There’s something wrong with me. And it all started in the ice-cream shoppe.
“Are to,” he replies in a sing-song voice. He’s making me grouchy.
“Dammit, Colt, what do you want?” I rub my brow, the wrinkles aging me prematurely.
“World peace, a house by the beach with a pool, to make it pro, a poodle named Sally.”
“A poodle named Sa—what the...” I shake my head and try again, “What do you need, right now?”
“To get laid.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Be a good friend and help me out?”
I clench my fists. I’ll punch him. “I swear to god, Colton, if you don—”
“Relax, I’m messing with you. I forgot to grab a towel. Can you get me one?”
“Shoot, I knew I forgot to do something. They’re all wet and need to be washed. Guess you’ll have to air dry.” Now it’s my turn to mess with him. I stifle my laugh and pull the door closed.
Colt speaks before I close it all the way. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.”
“Okay then.” The water in the shower shuts off and the rings from the curtain scrape across the bar as he pulls it open.
I bite my lip and close the door, trying not to imagine him standing in the middle of the bathroom with his arms out like a scarecrow waiting to air dry.
Except he doesn’t do that.
No. He pulls the bathroom door open and greets me with a giant grin on his face.
“Jesus, what are you doing?” I squeeze my eyes and put a hand up to his chest to stop him from leaving the bathroom. Naked.
“Air drying like you said. Want to crank up the heat? It’s a little chilly. Brrr.” His teeth chatter, and he shuffles around as though trying to keep warm.
I open one eye and peer at him, careful to keep my eyes on his face.
“What’s wrong, Em?” The bastard smirks. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Opening my other eye, I glare at him. “Nope. Not at all.” I lift a challenging eyebrow. I can do this; I can pretend he’s not standing in the apartment naked and dripping water all over the floor.
As long as he stays in the bathroom and out of my view.
Right?
But then my gaze falters and without realizing I’m doing it, my eyes trail down his body. Taking in the firmness of his chest and abs, following the v that points to his...
Holy shit.
My eyes widen. So that’s what a penis looks like. I snort. Penis. Such a weird word.
Cock? No, that sounds pornographic. I screw my face up. Dick? Eh. There really is no good word for it. Nothing appealing anyway.
“You know, that face you’re pulling does nothing for a guy’s ego, Em,” Colt says.
“Sorry, um... put that thing away would you? Before you blind someone with it.” I lift my eyes to Colt’s face.
“Thank you.” He stands a little taller, a little prouder. He took my words as a compliment. “Now, how about that towel?”
I grab a towel from the cupboard and throw it at him. “You knew the towels were clean all along, didn’t you?”
He wraps the towel around his waist and squeezes past me. “Yep. Washed them myself last night.”
Last night? When I was asleep?
“So then why...” I wave my hands at him.
He shrugs. “It’s fun to make you squirm.”
“You’re a jerk,” I call as I pad back into the kitchen and grab my coffee.
“You love me.”
“That’s debatable sometimes.”
“You got a message,” he says, and I scoot around the partition into the bedroom to find Colt lying on the bed with my phone in his hands, still in a towel.
My gaze travels down his body again and stops at the top of the towel. Nope. Not looking there. I shake my head and reach for my phone. “It’s not from you?”
“Nope. Pass me the ball?”
I pick up a ball from the floor and hand it to him, snatching my phone from his grip at the same time.
Opening the text message, I realize he’s right. It’s not from Colt. It’s from Austin. I didn’t think I would hear from him. It’s been almost a week since the party. Biting my lip to stop my grin, I read his words.
* * *
Austin: Coffee this morning?
* * *
I check the time and decide I have more than enough time to meet Austin for coffee before class.
* * *
Me: Sounds good. I can be ready in an hour.
Austin: Great, see you then.
* * *
We exchange a couple more texts narrowing down the location of where we will meet. He has a class this afternoon, too, so we’re meeting at The Brew on campus.
“Who is it?” Colt asks, throwing the basketball at the ceiling and catching it.
I tried that once, but I missed when it came down and almost broke my nose.
“Austin.”
Colt catches the ball and holds it to his chest, frozen. “What does he want? I thought he’d forgotten about you since he hasn’t called in a week.”
“Gee, thanks. We’re meeting for coffee before class.” I rummage around in my drawers and grab clean clothes before heading to the shower. I thought he’d forgotten, too, or changed his mind. Or he was busy.