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Given the status of our relationship, that doesn’t feel like an option. If I reach out for help, she’ll descend, and I’ll be forced to return to LA. I’m nowhere near ready to do that.
Uncle Sully pops into my head. I chew my lower lip and contemplate turning to him for help. Over the previous months, we’ve grown even closer than before.
It’s been really nice.
The last thing I want to do is cause problems between him and my mother. He’s already keeping it a secret that I’m here, living in the same city.
So, he’s not an option.
Which means I need to figure this out on my own.
I’d like to think it’ll prove to my family I’m a mature adult who’s more than capable of handling her own life, but it’s doubtful anyone who marries a stranger in Vegas while drunk can use this scenario as proof of adulting.
It takes effort to shove those thoughts from my head and refocus my attention on my textbook. I have a test coming up in a few days and if I don’t wrap my brain around the terminology and concepts, I’ll end up failing.
Just as I congratulate myself for reaching the end of one page and flipping to the next, someone drops down across from me. The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck prickle with awareness. I don’t have to glance up to know who I’ll find.
Even though a few feet separate us, the woodsy scent of his cologne slips around me, cocooning me in familiarity. Arousal explodes in the pit of my belly as my mind tumbles back to what it felt like to wake up beside him, our bare legs tangled together.
With a shaky exhale, I steel everything inside me before forcing my gaze to his.
Staring at his male beauty is like having the air knocked from my lungs.
It’s not like I didn’t realize that he was handsome, but after days of absence, the memories have dulled. Maybe it was even purposeful on my part. A self-protective mechanism. With him seated across from me, looking all broody and irritated, I don’t have any other choice but to acknowledge it.
When I remain silent, unsure how to open the dialogue, his scowl deepens as he crosses his brawny arms over his chest. As unaffected as I want to remain, that’s impossible under the intensity of his scrutiny.
This isn’t how I imagined our reunion playing out.
“Well, hello…wifey.”
His deep voice crashes over me like a tidal wave before threatening to drag me out to sea.
My tongue darts out to moisten parched lips.
I have no idea how to respond. My brain misfires, drawing blanks.
All the times I’ve caught sight of Colby on campus or even at Slap Shotz, he’s been surrounded by groupies, his expression a perpetual smirk as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
His appearance is a direct contrast to that.
“I have to admit that you’ve been rather difficult to track down.” He cocks his head. “Almost as if you’ve been hiding from me. Your husband. Can you imagine that?”
I throw a quick glance around the café, hoping no one is paying attention to our conversation. The last thing I want is for this to get out. All it would take is one spark to ignite and suddenly, the entire joint is burning to the ground.
He might not understand that, but I do.
From a few tables away, a handful of girls stare at him with hungry eyes.
It’s tempting to roll mine.
The guy certainly draws attention like flies to shit.
It’s just another reason I need to nip this…whatever the hell this is in the bud and end things before it spirals any further out of control.
Although granted, it seems a little late for that.
The last thing I want to do is jeopardize the life I’ve created for myself at Western.
Catching sight of Axel in Vegas was a close call.
Way too close.
It only drove home the realization of what I have to lose. For the first time in years, I have a group of girlfriends. I’m living an ordinary life and attending classes. All the things I missed out on as a teenager. And my creativity is finally flowing.
I refuse to give it up.
Maybe hiding out isn’t a long-term solution, but for now, I want to hold onto it for as long as possible.
“Keep your voice down,” I mutter, still trying to get all my out-of-control emotions back under submission. “I am not your wife.”
He raises a brow. It’s thick and sculpted, fitting his profile perfectly. Although, it would be a challenge to find any imperfections in Colby’s appearance. He’s too damn handsome for his own good.
And mine.
“Well, that’s interesting, because I have paperwork that claims otherwise.”
My eyes widen at that bit of news. “You do?”
“Yup. Found it in my pants pocket the morning you took off.” His eyes resemble chips of blue ice. “I have to say,” he muses, “girls usually run toward my dick. Not away from it.”
