Page 85 of Colt

She meets my eyes, a puzzled look on her face. Like she’s wondering who the hell I am. Where I came from.

Why I’ve changed my tune all of a sudden.

We’re more alike than I thought, Dallas. And that makes me feel so much less lonely.

“My mom is stuck,” Lainey replies. “She’s unhappy, but she doesn’t have many options. It’s interesting to see how different the dynamic is between your parents, though. Your mom stayed home with y’all, right?”

I nod. “She did.”

“And she and your dad seem happy.”

My chest feels tight all of a sudden. “They are happy, yeah. They got a lot of respect for each other.”

“From what I can see, they downright adore each other. It’s cute.”

Grinning, I tilt my head. “It is. Sometimes.”

“But then I’m wondering, why do some couples end up happy and others don’t? I’m not sure there’s one answer to that. Whatever the case, I’ve always wanted to work—to be independent—so I’ll have options.”

This surprises me. I guess I’d assumed she had this bullshit branding job because she was some kinda trust fund baby and didn’t need to get a real job, that she was being supported somehow by someone.

Turns out she’s just trying real hard to support herself. Also partly explains why she’s so damn dedicated to being put together all the time. She can’t afford to make a mistake.

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.” I keep my voice as gentle as I can.

Lainey glances at Dean. “Something tells me you know all about pressure.”

I laugh, if only in an attempt to ignore the flutter of my pulse. “Yeah. But Billie Jean King is always saying that pressure is a privilege, so…”

Lainey drops her fork. Stares at me.

That flush of heat in my neck moves to my face. “What?”

“You’re just…jeez, Colton.” She shakes her head. “Full of surprises tonight.”

Can say the same about you, honey.

“She’s right, though,” I continue. “Pressure exists in my life because I’m living out my dream. Well, some of my dreams. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do with the people I’ve always wanted to be around. Including this little rascal.” I muss Dean’s hair, and he ducks out of my reach to go hang on the couch with his football.

Lainey is sucking down her beer again. “I get that. I mean, I don’t get it get it because I feel like I’m just starting my life, but I see what you’re saying.” Another gulp. “I’m jealous.”

Jealous?

“You guys have such a great relationship,” she explains, nodding at Dean and me. “And your family is awesome. Your parents are happy. And it sounds like you’ve always known what your path was going to be. You always knew who you are, I guess.”

I consider this for a minute before nodding. “I’ve never thought about it like that, but yeah. You’re not wrong.”

She’s grinning again, the kind that touches her eyes. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Hey. I didn’t say you were right.”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other.”

Dean appears at my elbow, tossing his football from one hand to the other. “All this talking is kinda boring. Can we finish the spooky LEGO set or what?”

“We can.” I reach for Lainey’s plate. “As soon as you and I clean up.”

But Lainey grabs the plate and rises. “Nuh-huh. Y’all will absolutely not clean up, because the person who cooks doesn’t clean. Isn’t that the rule in your family?”