Get yourself under control, you horny bitch.
I thought we were fine, but when Colton touched me at the forum, I felt the electricity of it through every inch of my body. I wanted to climb him like a tree, and at the same time, I was terrified by the reaction. What if I can’t get this under control? I’ll lose him.
My bedroom door creaks open and Inez peeks her head in.
“She’s dressed,” she says, over her shoulder. A second later, she and Colton push into my room.
“What are you doing?” I sputter as she throws herself next to me on the bed and Colton walks to my closet, sliding the hangers one by one along the metal pole.
“You’ve been weird,” Colton says without looking away from his search.
“No, I haven’t! I’ve just been busy.”
“Nope, you’ve been weird,” Inez says, lowering her voice. “Is this because of me? The job stuff?”
I squeeze her hand. “No, not at all.”
I’m still worried about her leaving, obviously, but I feel more positive after my conversation with Andrea. I’m being weird because a week ago I had my other best friend’s hand down my underwear and then talked him through his own orgasm, which is totally fine and I’m super chill and not at all freaking out.
My eyes shoot to Colton’s, who has finally looked back at me, and I give my head the smallest of shakes so he understands I haven’t looped Inez in on the latest… developments. She’s perfect and lovely and supportive, but she’s also a surprisingly pushy hopeless romantic who already thinks Colt and I should be together, and I don’t need her getting ideas.
“It’s just been a lot all at once,” I say, my eyes still locked on Colton’s, and he nods slightly.
Inez grabs my hand. “Well, we’re here to break you out of it.”
“So because I’ve been weird, not saying I agree”—I’ve definitely been weird—“you’re messing around in my closet?”
“We’re going out tonight,” Colton says, eyes back on the shirts and dresses.
“How do you know I’m not busy?” I ask indignantly.
He turns and points back and forth between me and Inez. “Because you two are codependent and she’d know if you had plans.”
“We’re not codependent.” I turn to Inez for back up.
She scrunches up her nose. “You come into the office to have me check your breath before each class.”
“The room is tiny! I don’t want to subject my students to onion breath!”
Colton raises an eyebrow. “Codependent.”
I raise a brow and lean toward him. “Jealous?”
His lip quirks in that not-quite smile. “I plead the fifth.”
I huff a laugh. “Fine. Where are we going?”
As I ask, he pulls something from the closet and tosses it on the bed—a red floor-length gown with stunning embroidery. I raise an eyebrow.
“We’re going toTurandot.” He holds up his hand to stop me when I open my mouth. “And, yes, I know you’re going to say it’s flawed, but it’s the only thing playing right now, so you’re shit out of luck.”
I’ve loved the opera my entire life. The magnitude and drama of it all. Everything’s big. The costumes and the sets and the voices. Their extreme emotions are revered, and for someone who was constantly told her enthusiasm and joy—everything about her, really—needed to be tamped down, it’s a relief to sit with something even bigger.
I dragged Colton to plenty of shows during our college years, and he didn’t care for it nearly as much as I did. In other words, it put him to sleep. Literally—every time. It got so ridiculous that we started making bets on how long he’d last, and whoever won got to choose the next movie night. I ended up spending half of those shows watching him instead of the stage.
I raise an eyebrow. “You hate the opera.”
He smirks. “Yes, but you love the opera. They’re at the Baths of Caracalla, so there’s a little something for me, too.”
