His grin fades. “Not gonna happen. I can’t think of anything you could do that would change how I feel about you.”
My mind flashes back to my chat with the girls and their suggestions of things that would hurt him and chase him away. The list feels even more abhorrent to me. I don’t want to hurt this man, even accidentally, and it guts me to realize I already have. Despite his physical strength and the happy-go-lucky air he has, he’s got a squishy center. At least for the people in his inner circle. And, I’m coming to realize, Mia and I are right in the center of that circle.
“I really hope that’s true,” I murmur. Anything else I might have said is lost when I register the play of flashing lights over his face. Confused, I look out the windshield. “Are you shitting me? Are we really going here?”
Colt’s studying me, looking unsure, so I let him see my excitement, my giant smile.
“I guess you’re ok with it? I thought about taking you somewhere quieter, but I thought this might be fun.”
“Fun?” This man. He has no idea. “Prepare for an ass-kicking Colt. I’m wicked good at Mini Golf.”
His smile breaks over his face. The flashing lights from the fun place are nothing compared to the joyful light spilling from his face.
“Bring it. Do your worst. But me and you, we have a date on the track after. It’s about time I see your driving skills.”
Well shit.
I can hearColt’s hysterical laughter over the zooming of the cars around me. Why are they going so fast? I clutch the wheel tighter, hands at ten and two, wondering for the tenth time if I’m going to end up with head lice from this stupid helmet. That little prick zooms by me again, “Move it, lady,” he yells while cackling. I swear, I’m going to find that little fucknugget’s mother if I get out of this alive and give her a piece of my mind.
Colt’s Go-Kart pulls up next to me, matching my pace. I want to slap the grin off his face. I should have insisted on another round of mini-golf instead. That’s my element. I was kicking ass, taking names, and the kids out there respected me.
“Slowpoke,” the little asshole yells as he passes me again.
“Just wait until I talk to your mother, you little bastard,” I yell, but there’s really no point. My nemesis is already way out of shouting distance. Colt’s making choking noises, so I shoot him a glare. He howls with laughter. I reach out and slap at his arm. He flinches out of the way, and it makes me feel a little better.
A bit.
I know I didn’t really hurt him, but it’s the intent that counts.
He must see the murderous rage on my face. He raises his hands. “I’m sorry. Sorry! It’s just,” he masks his laugh with a cough, “you just got lapped, repeatedly, by a trash-talking eight-year-old.”
“He’s a little dick,” I mutter, searching for him on the track.
“He is,” Colt says through more laughter, “but he has a point. You’re slow as fuck Evie.”
“This is my first time! I just need to get comfortable on the track.”
“Ok honey, but do you think you might go a little faster? Maybe get a little wild and crazy and try for fifteen miles an hour?”
“Colton,” I say in the sternest voice I can muster, “Fuck off.”
I swear his smile is going to split his face, it’s so huge. He salutes me, tapping the visor of his helmet before speeding after the little fucker. I catch his yell, “I will avenge you, Evie!” As he races off after the kid.
When he’s out of earshot, I let my giggles roll. I warned him I wasn’t a great driver. This is not new information, for fuck’s sake. Colt and the kid are racing, one edging in front of the other. You’d think Colt would have the advantage, but his heavy frame is slowing him down, for sure.
The buzzer rings, signaling the end of our time on the track, thank fuck, so I carefully pull into the corral with the other karts. Colt’s there, doing some very complicated handshake with the fucknugget. I scowl at both of them and move to put my helmet back on the rack. I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like right now.
I’m looking at my distorted reflection in the chrome railing when I feel Colt’s heat behind me. His arms come around me, hands grabbing the rail, caging me in. It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him almost every day for the last few months. His sheer size is still overwhelming. It puts me off center, like his presence shifts the balance of the planet. Or at least this little part of the world.
His bearded chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “I love how tall you are,” he murmurs as he runs his nose along my neck.
Oh my god, we’re doing this. We’re really doing this. We have officially left the friend zone. He stills, and I realize I didn’t answer him. “Ah, I’m sorry. I just freaked out for a second.”
His hands tighten on the railing, knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip. “Freaked out?” he asks, his voice tight.
I’m already doing what I promised myself I wouldn’t. Getting in my head and making him doubt my feelings, my interest. I carefully push my back into his chest, letting my curves mold to his large frame. I can feel the tension coiled in his muscles as I curl my hands up around his biceps.
“I’ve been really careful about not crossing any lines with you,” I explain, turning so my lips are against his temple. “In my mind, there was this flashing neon sign over your head telling medo not touch, so I just had a moment, realizing that I don’t have to follow any of those self-imposed rules anymore.”
