FORTY-NINE

577 42 2
                                    

I rested my weight on my elbows, slowly trailing my eyes up his blue shirt and to those cold brown eyes, entrapping me more than the arms planted on either side of my body

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I rested my weight on my elbows, slowly trailing my eyes up his blue shirt and to those cold brown eyes, entrapping me more than the arms planted on either side of my body.

Barely finding my voice, I played along with him. "How good is your memory, then?"

"It's good," Colin murmured, dipping his head down. "Great, unfortunately."

"That's too bad, then," I whispered, flickering my eyes to the chest of my blouse. I wondered if he could make out the slight movements of the fabric, assaulted by my pounding heart. "Maybe I'm not that forgettable, after all."

"Cocky now, aren't we?" Two careful fingers gripped a smooth wave draped over my shoulder. "Something is new about you. Is it your hair?"

"Good guess. Was actually thinking of going blonde, but I decided against it at the last minute."

"I don't like blondes." He ran his fingers down the lock of hair with a certain cold interest. When he reached the end, he gave it a small tug, just enough to send a biting pain to my scalp. "Or wait...does your boyfriend like them?"

"Jesse only likes himself," I bit back, watching him repeat the process with another strand of hair. Before he could pull again, I encircled his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Just like I should have learned to before."

In a blink, he pressed my hand into the door space above my head. His other hand trapped my face in a delicate grip, thumb just hovering over my racing pulse. "So you've finally decided to stop selling yourself short, huh? Or is this just more talk?"

Heaving out a shaky breath, I tried to free myself from him again, managing to pull my face away at just the right angle, one hand still just as useless. "Sounds like the only person who loves hearing the sound of their voice right now is you, Colin."

"Well, we have some catching up to do, don't we?" He let me run my fingers up his wrist, then his forearm with featherlike strokes, other hand tightening around my caged wrist. The position felt only natural—half with him, half not. "Nice car you got out there, by the way. Inheritance money?"

My eyes widened, lashes nearly meeting my eyebrows. "Oh, so you must have assumed I was poor last summer."

"No. Not poor." He yanked his arm away when my fingers brushed his fading scars. "Just living below your worth."

A small chuckle escaped my lips, soft noise echoing into the empty foyer. "I'm sure you've never known what that is like. Humor me, is the black BMW in your driveway yours or your dad's?"

"Mine," he answered, lips curling into a devilish smirk. "Mom's gift this time."

"Same here," I mumbled. I let my curious gaze fall to the waist of his navy pants. "Love the new belt, by the way. Screams humble."

Colin pressed forward, forehead just touching my own, voice low and heady. "Eyes are up here, sweetheart."

Despite my bubbling anger, I listened, and I finally felt it again. The world falling away. I'd become too acquainted with the opposite feeling over the last year—the weight of the world on my shoulders. My whole body ached from the tension and drag of a thousand pounds of stress, grief, and sadness, but if only I'd known it'd take one look into his eyes to feel nearly weightless.

Hidden TruthsWhere stories live. Discover now