“I haven’t done a whole lot of dating….”
I’m compelled to whisper, albeit tremulously, “Me neither.”
“Because Jonas loves a fake stomachache even more than I do?”
“Yeah, partially because of that.” I steal a wistful glance at Colt. I want to slide my hands along the rough edge of his jaw so I can hold his eyes in place, really get a good look at them when I ask his feelings on kids. But the moment my fingers make contact, it’s flint to steel, and I forget about the question altogether.
I’m met with a sobering gaze rather than the flirtatious smile I’m accustomed to. The pools of blue are formidably deep and dark, almost absent of color, thanks to the width of his pupils.
“I know you’re scared, but you and Jonas mean everything to me. I want to be here—I don’t want to let either of you down.”
The moment levels me.
And no matter how loud my brain screams at my tear ducts to quit it, tears prickle at my waterline before tipping over and streaming down my cheeks. They burn the entire way down.
The back of my hand’s quick to swipe them away. But not quick enough.
“No crying,” he says in a gentle voice, smoothing his thumb under my eye. Colt plants a kiss at the corner of my mouth. “We’ll navigate it together.”
Except I’m navigating this ship right into a fucking iceberg, and you think it’s a luxury cruise.
“I’m sorry. I just…” I take a gasping breath, struggling to fill my lungs with the fresh forested air.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Fully enveloping me, he strokes a soothing hand down my spine, then back up. I clutch the front of his shirt, the buttons digging into my palms.
“Want me to show you some other constellations?” he asks with a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
“More than anything.”
His hand flows through the sky, drawing each image in the stars for me. His voice gently naming constellation after constellation until the dark heavens are full of vibrant light. Our bodies softly connected, faces so close I can hear his deep and steadying breath. By the time he’s wrapping up his tour of the night sky, my tears have dried and the lifeline grip I had on his shirt has let up.
“So if not for impressing girls, why do you know so much about stars?”
“It was something my mom taught us when we were kids. I don’t know if she already knew this stuff, or if it was something she looked up specifically to teach us.” He tightens his arms around me to combat a sudden bitter breeze. “I already told you my dad wasn’t around much, between traveling for rodeos and picking up cowboy jobs on ranches from here to Manitoba. Given how often he was gone for work, you’d think we’d have money, but we didn’t. But Mom made sure we didn’t miss a single meteor shower or northern lights show, even if it meant hauling us out of bed at three a.m. It was free entertainmentandeducation.”
“I love that. You’re lucky to have a mom who loves you so much.”
“Yeah, I am. She’s my rock.” A crease forms between his thick, dark brows when I shiver so hard the entire truck quivers along with me. “Okay, honey. Let’s get out of here.”
I feel the loss of his tight hold deep in my bones, an ache through the marrow that has me reaching for him to help me slide off the side of his pickup, even if I don’t need it. I loop my arms around his neck, my fingers gliding up the nape of his neck before tangling in his messy hair. I give the back of his head a tug, pulling him toward me. And the moment my sneakers hit the dense earth, my lips crash into his.
Colt
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It’s almost midnight, and I’m silently standing in the entryway of Whit’s house while she doles out cash to some seventeen-year-old babysitter. My hands clasped in front of me, I sway awkwardly and look around the room like I’m not impatiently waiting for this girl to leave so I can sneak upstairs to finally enjoy proper alone time with my girl.
Whit thanks her again, slowly shutting the front door with a soft click. The lock turns, and my pulse quickens. Standing in her quiet home in the dead of night is so similar to her birthday, except that night I was adamant her bed was strictly for sleeping.
Tonight? Tonight I want to be hers. The way she wanted me to be last time.
“Jonas is a pretty deep sleeper,” she whispers, taking me by the hand. “But I still try to be extra quiet when I go past his door.”
I give her a silent thumbs-up.
With every inch closer to her room, my cock grows stiffer in my jeans. I’m convinced the only reason I didn’t blow a load in my pants again tonight is because I was smart enough to crank one out in the shower before our date. But that was hours ago, and with the amount of kissing and touching—tasting—I’ve done tonight, I’m so horny it hurts.
The hinges squeak with the slow push of her bedroom door, and the moment it closes, she’s kissing me. We tumble onto the bed so I’m on my back, and she’s immediately hitching a leg over my hips. I grab her ass and pull her onto me, desperate for the feel of her rubbing against my painfully hard cock.
