Crap. She scrunched her eyes.
Why was it so hard to message him? Because they were separated? Because they’d barely spoken in the last year?
The ringing of her phone shot her eyes open. But it wasn’t Colt’s name on the screen.
Noah.
She answered the call. “Hey.”
“Hey, Indie. Jesse told me about the altercation outside The Tea House this morning. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. But I can’t get it out of my head. Has Colt ever mentioned his father to you?” Her heart picked up speed, scared that Noah would say yes. Scared of the possibility that Colt had shared more with her brother than he had with her.
“No. All I know is he left when Colt was young.”
So, it wasn’t just her. “Have you spoken to him today?”
“He was at the park, but he had his headphones on and was hammering the shit out of the overgrown branches along the trails. I left him alone.”
She nodded, even though her brother couldn’t see her.
“Indie…if you see that man again, I want you to walk in the other direction. Don’t interact with him. Especially if you’re alone. Okay?”
All the fine hairs on her arms stood up at the prospect of meeting Colt’s father alone. Even if that interaction between him and Colt hadn’t taken place, she would still know the guy was bad news. There was just something about him…a darkness.
“I won’t.” She pulled at a thread on her T-shirt. “You know, I thought he looked familiar that first time I saw him. Now I realize…he looks like Colt. But he also doesn’t.”
“If Colt doesn’t like him, he must hate that.”
Yeah, she wouldn’t be saying that to him anytime soon.
“Do you want me to come over?” Noah asked gently.
She smiled, warmth filling her belly. It was so nice to have her protective big brother home. Jesse and Becket were like that too. Hell, Jesse had already texted and called to check in, but it was different with Noah. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. How’s the new place?”
“Full of boxes and half-eaten takeout containers. But I’m getting there.”
“Well, if you need help, just call. I’m cheap labor with just the cost of a pizza.”
“Burt’s pizza?”
She scoffed. “God, no. We’ll make the pizza.”
“I thought you were about to tell me his pizzas have gotten better since I’ve been gone.”
“The opposite. Worse. Much worse. Clara found three black hairs on her last pizza.”
“That’s kind of gross.”
“Not kind of, itisgross. But Burt’s like the big happy uncle you want at every party, so I still buy a pizza every so often.”
“Lucky bastard.”
She chuckled. “Seriously though, let me know if you want some company while you unpack.”
“Thanks, Indie. I will.”
She hung up, and before she could talk herself out of it, she typed out a text. Three simple words.
