It's not the most romantic place. But he's honest with himself, honest about what this place means to him, and I can take honesty above everything else. Especially after being lied to for God knows how long.
"So," Colt says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Are you thinking about staying in Blackwater Falls for a while? Or is this just like a six-month break before you go back to Denver?"
The question catches me off guard. I haven't really thought about the future beyond getting through each day. Beyond putting distance between myself and everything that happened.
"I have no idea," I admit, dragging a fry through ketchup. "I didn't exactly have a plan when I came here. I just... needed to get away. To be somewhere that felt safe."
"And does it? Feel safe?"
I consider this, looking around Murphy's. The grease-stained walls, the ancient jukebox in the corner, Murphy himself flipping burgers with the efficiency of someone who's done it a million times. The two MC members who finished their food and left without incident.
And Colt, sitting across from me with those dark eyes that make me feel seen instead of invisible.
"Yeah," I say softly. "It's starting to."
"Good." His smile widens. "Blackwater Falls has its own charm. Once you get used to the people, the pace of life, the fact that everyone knows everyone's business, you'll never want to leave."
I'm not sure if he's right. This town is so different from everything I've known. So small and quiet and intimate in a way that should feel claustrophobic but somehow doesn't.
But right now, sitting here with him, I'm not thinking about leaving. I'm enjoying every second of this. The food, the conversation, the easy way we fall into talking like we've known each other longer than a day.
I keep eating, savoring the perfectly crispy fries and the last few bites of my burger. Another couple walks in: older, probably in their sixties, and Murphy greets them by name, already knowing their order before they say a word.
"That's what I mean," Colt says, nodding toward them. "Everyone knows everyone. It can be annoying sometimes, but mostly it's just... comforting. Knowing you're part of something bigger than yourself."
"I think I'd like that," I murmur. "Being part of something."
We finish our food, and Colt pays despite my protests. Murphy waves us off with a knowing grin that makes me blush again, and then we're back outside in the cool night air.
"Want to see one of my favorite places in town?" Colt asks, his hand finding mine again like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Sure."
We start walking, our shoulders brushing with every step. The street is quiet, most people either at home or still at the bar. Above us, the moon is so bright it casts shadows, and I can see more stars than I've ever seen in my life.
"Can I ask you something?" I hear myself say, even though I know it's probably too soon, too personal, too much.
"Anything."
"Are you afraid of relationships?"
He doesn't answer right away, and I immediately regret asking. Too rushed. Too invasive. We barely know each other, and here I am asking about his deepest fears like we're in therapy instead of on a late-night walk.
But then he speaks. "I'm not afraid of relationships exactly. I'm more afraid of commitment. Of giving someone that kind of power over me." He pauses. "People tend to disappoint. They leave, they cheat, they decide you're not enough anymore. So I just... prefer to keep things simple. Casual. Safe."
His honesty makes my chest hurt. Because I understand it, even if I'm wired differently.
"I'm the opposite," I confess, looking up at the stars instead of at him. "I love being with someone. Love the idea of building alife together, of having that person to come home to. But maybe that's an issue too. Maybe I don't know how to be happy alone."
"Maybe neither of us has it quite right," he says quietly.
We walk in silence for a moment, and I love having his hand in mine. The warmth of it. The calluses on his palm. The way his thumb occasionally strokes across my knuckles like he's not even aware he's doing it.
"You want to know something I've never told anyone?" Colt says suddenly.
"Yeah."
"Sometimes I think I'd be happier in a relationship. With someone who completed me, you know? Someone I actually wanted to talk to instead of just fuck." He laughs, but it sounds hollow. "It gets tiring, going to the bar almost every single night, trying to find someone to spend a couple hours with. It gets exhausting. And I'm afraid I'm only doing it now because I got used to it. Because it's easier than risking something real."
