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And another.
Apparently, you God or you Devil. One of you fuckers has allergies! Because you’re sneezing like a bitch when we need a ride on a steady fingertip to heaven or hell or Charleston.
I don’t give a shit, just get us there. Right. Now.
Beau reaches to hold my hand, white-knuckling my armrests.
“Please!” I pray, staring at the woodgrain and ivory glowing ceiling of my flying coffin. “Please, someone talk because now I know why they call it ‘going to hell in a handbasket’ because this is hell, and I’m in your hands. Your big, sexy hands that I love so much. I love you guys so much, so say something.” The plane bumps. “Hurry! Before it’s too late. Before we die! The Devil is calling my slutty ass home!”
“Is he mine?” Beau’s voice ends my rant; he ends my panic. “Or is he yours?”
“I don’t know,” Colt mumbles.
“When was it?” Beau presses. “That night we played beer pong? Or did you cheat on me more?”
Colt shakes his head, staring at the sunset outside the oval window.
“Look at me! Answer me!” Beau sounds hurt. “Just tell me the fucking truth. How many times?”
“Once!” Colt whips his glare at him. “Once!”
“Okay, y’all,” I ease. “I said talk, not yell and summon a federal air marshal.”
Beau drops his tone to a controlled fury level. “So I got drunk and passed out, and you what? You flirted with her? You came on to her? You kissed Reese and fucked her? Right under my goddamn nose?”
Something, not guilt, twists Colt’s face. It bends his eyes. He’s hurting. He’s holding back. He won’t answer.
“Colt.” I reach for his hand. “Colt, what’s wrong? I can tell something’s wrong.”
He barely answers, “I didn’t want to.”
Beau growls, “And yet, you did. You hurt me and had a son with her when I dreamt it would be me and you one day.” He yells at Colt, “I dreamt we would have a child together.”
“I thought it was you!” Colt shouts, pain welling in his eyes. “I was drunk and on your sofa, and I thought it was you touching me and making me hard. I was half fucking asleep and so goddamn happy to be near you again. My heart wanted to believe it was you. That we were in love. That we were finally together. It was like a dream, but then I woke up to the nightmare of her, of your girlfriend on me, and it was too late. She was?—”
I yank my seatbelt off. “Colt.” I leap into his arms, wrapping my hands around his neck, and he squeezes me back. So tight. He doesn’t need to finish.
I understand.
“Wait. What?” Beau’s still processing. “You mean Reese?—”
“Yes,” Colt mutters into my neck. “She did.”
“But.. but.. why didn’t you tell me?” Agony cracks Beau’s voice. I hear the click of his seatbelt before he kneels beside me, reaching for Colt, too. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” Colt answers, lifting from my embrace to tell him, “I couldn’t believe it myself. I was in a daze. Then, weeks later, she told me she was pregnant and begged me not to tell you. She said she was sorry. She had so many issues and addictions, so she went into rehab and got her life together, and she met her husband there. He thinks the boy is his.”
I cup Colt’s cheek. “But are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Colt sighs while I sit on his lap, searching his sincere face. “Yeah, I forgave Reese a long time ago. Once I held that baby in my arms, I couldn’t hold any hatred in my heart.”
“So, is he yours?” I ask Colt. “I mean, he could be. He could be either of yours.” I ask Beau, “Right? You were with Reese around the same time, too?”
“Rarely,” Beau answers. “But yeah, it’s possible.”
“Has she ever found out for sure?” I ask Colt.
“No,” he answers. “Reese wants her husband to believe her son is his. And he’s a good guy. Jake’s been there. Like you said, he’s his real dad, even though she doesn’t know who his father is.”
