“Everything okay?” she asked. “Don’t make me buy a parka and come out to Ohio.”
I laughed. “It’s not that cold yet. And anyway, Boston was way colder. But yes, I’m fine.”
“So what’s up with Colt?”
I winced. “How much time do you have?”
I caught her up on everything: my discovery in therapy, calling Colton, our couch sleepover, and now our book reading project.
After Kitty got finished cussing about Pete and how she was going to make Guy kill him, the interrogation began. “So, you and Colton are back on?”
“I . . . told him I just needed a friend. Because I don’t want to run out on him again, you know? He’s been so patient with me, and he deserves better than that.”
The line was silent.
“Kitty?”
“I’m going to say a lot of things you won’t like,” she warned me.
I chuckled. “I expect no different from you. If you started lying now, I’d be highly suspicious.”
She heaved a sigh. “I think Colton would let you break his heart four hundred times and still come back for more.”
“I know,” I said. “The man doesn’t have a self-preserving bone in his body. That’s why I’m keeping my distance.”
“By reading sexy, romantic books with him?” she guffawed. “Yeah, that definitely won’t have an impact on how you feel about each other.”
“Even if it does, this is how I need it to be right now. I don’t want to be vulnerable and latch onto him just because he’s herewhile I’m healing. If we connect, I want it to be for the right reasons. Not pity or guilt or obligation. And . . . I haven’t been with anyone since him at your wedding. I’m not sure entering a sexy relationship is the best idea.”
Kitty hummed. “I hear you. On all of it. But of all people, Colt has your best interest at heart. If you’re going to do anything with anyone, he’d be the best candidate. He knows you. Knows your story. He’d never be mad at you.”
But the whole problem was tied up in that. Sure, he wouldn’t be mad at me, but he could still get hurt. Really hurt. If he has my best interest at heart, who’s watching out for him?
COLTON
cliche, but
u up?
VIOLET
:)
sadly yes
My phone rangin my hand with a video call request. I jumped to pull the covers above my armpits before answering. I was already in my bedclothes for the night, and thus, naked under the sheets.
“Hey,” I said.
Colt’s brow lifted and he chuckled. “Bad time to call? Got company?”
“Very funny.”
He grinned. “No, it’s cute. I love your bedclothes.”
A lump rose in my throat, because when he said things likethat, the ways he’d absorbed everything I told him back then, it made all the good things flash back.
All the ways he supported my studies, whether it was with food or quietly working in the same room for a sense of camaraderie. Waking me up with neck kisses and his signature nuzzles, even when I griped that I was still sleeping. The time he came to one of my presentations and sat in the back row, completely rapt when I dared to see if he was watching. I hated giving presentations, and I still thought of his almost embarrassingly eager smile when I had to give one.
