“He protected us.”
“Us? You mean you and your brothers? How?”
“I’m not going to go into details Evie, but it was big, it was public, and he got sentenced to eighteen years to life.”
“How long has he been in prison?”
“Eighteen years.”
“Wow. So he could get out soon. How does he feel about that?”
“I don’t know.” How he feels, what he thinks, those are things I tried to stop obsessing over years ago.
“You guys don’t talk about it? He could apply for parole soon, right?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him in eighteen years, Evie. I don’t know him at all anymore.”
27
EVIE
His eyes are shuttered, and he won’t look at me. He’s sending a clear ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ message, but I can’t stop from asking. He just dropped a bomb.
“You’re telling me you haven’t seen your brother in eighteen years?”
“That’s not what I said. I said I haven’t spoken to him.”
“Explain Colton.” He won’t even look at me, gazing off across the track instead.
“He’s in prison. I’ve been with my brothers when they go to see him, but we don’t talk.”
“So what, you just stand there and stare at each other?”
“Nah. We don’t look at each other either. My brothers talk to him, and I wait in the corner.”
I’ll be the first to admit that I have a shitty relationship with my family, but Colt’s dynamic is so much more fucked up. I don’t understand why they haven’t at least spoken. There are so many years between whatever broke them and today. Will it be eighteen years before I speak to my family again?
“I don’t understand why you don’t talk. Why? He’s part of your family. You say that he’s in there because he took care of you guys, so what could possibly stop you from reconnecting?”
He groans, side-stepping me to lean his arms on the railing, staring at the ground. His jaw is tight.
“I really wanted us to have a fun night. Relax, spend quality time together, flirt, maybe get to second base. You know, a regular date.”
I ignore that little clench in my gut when I think about second base. “Part of dating is getting to know one another, Colt. That’s what we’re doing.”
“Maybe, but we don’t have to get this heavy tonight.” He pushes off the railing, taking my hand again. I tug back, and he lets go, shoulders rounding, and he blows out a heavy breath. “I can’t do this tonight Evie. Please, can we just…drop it?”
It’s the weight of the word ‘please’ that stops my next objection. There’s no hint of Colt’s usual playfulness in it. It’s obviously a heavy topic for him. Pushing him more tonight is not going to get him to open up. I already miss his usual warmth. I move into him, wrapping my hand around his arm. “Ok. We’ll drop it, for now. Think they have corn dogs here? I haven’t had one in years.”
His relieved grin and bouncing body tell me I did the right thing. This is our first date, and maybe we don’t have to break open our hearts and spill everything in them. But one day, it’s going to be unavoidable.
We find corn dogs and ice cream cones, and we laugh and tease. I have a brief flashback when we first sit down with our food, remembering the way Jeremiah looked at me over our meal. Colt chases it away by diving into his food, holding it out for me to taste with a laugh. There’s no hint of judgment on his face or in his body. Only enjoyment of the food, and of being with me. It makes it so much easier to relax into this, into him.
Colt eats the way he does everything else, with absolute enthusiasm. He eats quickly, neatly, but also seems to love everything that he puts in his mouth, his sighs and low groans making me press my thighs together. I’m a woman out with a magnetic sexy man, so of course, my thoughts turn dirty, wondering what sounds he might make feasting on me.
I reach up to rub the side of my mouth, making sure I wasn’t drooling, and something in the way Colt grins at me makes me think he knows what kind of effect he’s having on me. When he smirks, I’m sure of it. I can’t decide if I like him knowing how attracted to him I am. It feels a little uneven and I definitely don’t like that. His eyes are dancing as I pick up my quickly melting ice cream cone. I smile at him innocently, letting my eyes drift over his shoulder to the outdoor mini golf course behind him.
I bring the ice cream to my mouth, letting my tongue slip out to make a long, slow lick around the base, catching the dripping vanilla soft serve. I let it rest on my tongue, savoring the creamy goodness before swallowing. I let a small moan escape, then lick again, finishing with a swirl at the top. I close my eyes and let my imagination run wild, picturing licking up Colt’s body, swirling my tongue around his thick head.
