How could the asshole make her think she wasn’t enough? She was freaking amazing.
Claws clicked on hardwood, and Ralph trotted in from the kitchen, jumping up on the couch to stretch out and lay his snout on Colt’s thigh.
Colt lifted a brow. “Make yourself at home there, buddy.”
Ironic tone lost on him, Ralph twitched an eyelid and settled into a comfortable slump.
Feet propped on the coffee table, Colt crossed one ankle over the other, trying to concentrate on Georgia’s offense. He sank his fingers into Ralph’s ruff, and the dog wriggled deeper into the couch, fur spreading into a fluffy white halo. A canine sigh of bliss vibrated under his hand. “She’s right. You’re rotten.”
Ralph flicked an ear.
“Yeah, I know.” He reached for his coffee, the stoneware mug warm against his palm. “But she’s busy, and I’m lousy company tonight.”
Another ear flick.
“What’s she doing?” Colt set the mug aside with a clink against the coaster. “Watching the game with her friends.”
He slumped deeper into the couch.
“That shouldn’t bother me.” He rubbed at the tight center of his chest. They’d texted on and off all day, her chatty commentary on updating her clothing displays at Aunt Lenora’s store, on not wanting to clean house, on Polo being a slug, on her plans for the evening, arrangements made more than a week ago and how she’d miss him. “Except Barlow’s in that group. Andthatshouldn’t bother me, except c’mon. The guy’s a lawyer. Plus, she’s been into him for years. Years, Ralph.”
That shouldn’t burrow deep under his skin. Somebody could have feelings for someone for years, then move on. Louise had done that, although her first husband had probably killed most anything she felt early on.
And Holly didn’t talk like she still wanted Barlow.
So sitting here, tormenting himself, thinking about whether she was with the guy was important or not, was pointless, a waste of time.
“This?” He lifted an irritable hand and let it fall. “This is why I used to look for the bottom of a bottle. I did not think this through, buddy.”
Ralph’s small noise could have been interest or a contented snore.
“She’s friends with my cousin. Oh, wait, you weren’t here for that story.” Colt let his head rest against the back of the couch, gaze on the ceiling. “He can’t stand to be in the same room with me, and I don’t blame him.”
Hell, he couldn’t stand being in the same room as himself.
A long exhale bled out of him.
“I got my feelings hurt because my girlfriend dumped me. Figured I’d go home. Didn’t want to run into her out and about, you know?” He stroked a fingertip along Ralph’s collar. “Wally was like, let’s go to the party at Andy’s house. I’d already had a couple of beers and a couple of shots, so why not? Had a couple more of each when I got there, a few more after that.”
He’d been absolutely, completely shit-faced by the time he’d run across Allison. Time and alcohol blurred the memory of their conversation, but he thought he’d asked her about Lamar. She’d stood too close to him, he remembered that. Somewhere in there, his memory blacked out the journey from the dim hallway where they’d exchanged greetings to an anonymous bedroom.
By that time, he’d had a red cup in hand to match the one in hers, and Lord only knew what was in them. His shirt had been soaked with it, hers, too, and she’d laughed and stripped the white t-shirt over her head. He wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss — he kinda thought she had, because he didn’t even like her, but he’d been hurting and blackout drunk.
“I didn’t sleep with her.” He made another slow pass over Ralph’s collar, and Ralph sighed. “Not that it matters because I shouldn’t have touched her.”
He closed his eyes, disjointed sensory memories pulsing there — the creak of a hinge, a shaft of light and raucous noise,music and shouted conversation, that injured noise Tick had made, so muted Colt should not have heard it but loud as a life-ending shotgun blast.
Fury and disgust in dark brown eyes the same color as his own, like looking at himself.
We’re done.
“He’s like Holly’s . . . I don’t know. Best guy friend?” Lorraine was her best friend, probably, but she and Lamar . . . they were close. Easy to forget that when she was close to him, and Lamar was in Texas.
But he wasn’t always in Texas. And her mama was best friends with Tick’s mama. Their dearest wish had been for their children to tie the knot, make a life together. That hadn’t worked out, but there were all these layers of connection Colt had no place in. He didn’t want Holly caught in the middle, either.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Well, yeah, he did — that she was sweet and intelligent and funny, the most beautiful woman he might have ever seen. But her wanting him didn’t mean anything longterm, not with Tick and Barlow tangled up in everything. “Me and her? That’s just wishing. Just stupid.”
D had not raised a fool, after all. He might be a lot of things, but stupid hadn’t ever been one of them.
