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Me: Then he must be a nice guy.
Libby: He is pretty sweet.
Well, isn’t that fucking precious? Another text comes in before I can respond.
Libby: So is his friend. He’ll be there tonight too.
She’s going on a date with two guys at the same time? What kind of shit is she into? And why the hell haven't I been added to her roster of men? Stay calm, Colt.
Me: Ah. Well, I hope you have a good time.
Libby: Thanks, I will. There will be lots of spooning ;)
What the actual fuck.
That’s enough. I throw my phone across my room, imagining it was the two assholes who get to spend their evening with the only girl who has kept my attention for longer than a few hours. Another text lights up my phone, but I can’t look at it. I can’t handle another blow.
But you can’t just ignore her.
Son of a bitch. I stomp over to my phone and pick it up, seeing that she sent a photo attachment. She is some kind of evil torturing me like this. But curiosity gets the best of me. Opening the text, I squint, thinking it’ll somehow block out whatever parts of the picture that I don’t want to see. Relief pours down my spine, followed by pure adoration. In the picture, Libby is posing next to a tub of Ben & Jerry’s with the text: Don’t we look good together?
God, she’s adorable. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and she isn’t wearing any makeup — not that she wears much of it anyway — displaying her perfectly freckled face.
My eyes roam over every inch that I can see, trying to commit her to memory, just as she is right now. But I spot something and everything else fades away. Just below her slim neck, I see the top of a blue shirt — a familiar blue shirt. My blue shirt. It’s been four days since Blake went to get Libby’s things from her old place, so I know she has her own clothes… But she chose to wear mine.
I can’t take it any longer. I throw some clothes in a bag, grab my keys, and shoot off a final text.
Me: You look perfect. Enjoy your date. I’ll see you in an hour.
As I walk out the door of mine and Tyson’s apartment, I hear his laugh and what sounds like, “that’s what I thought.”
15
My heart is beating fast. It’s been almost an hour since Colt’s last text, saying he was coming to see me. I’m pacing around my room, not knowing if we are going out somewhere when he gets here, or if we’ll be staying in. I don’t want to look like an idiot and change my clothes just to sit around the apartment, or not change and turn him off by not making an effort. Cursing myself, I decide to stay in my shorts and T-shirt.
I should have thought this through more instead of assuming he was joking. Paying me back for making him think I had a date. But when thirty minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t responded to my text, I finally accepted that he was being serious. It was then that I texted Blake, who’s out of town for one of our coworker’s weddings. She invited me too, but I’m not really in the wedding mood.
Checking my phone again, Blake still hasn’t replied to my SOS text, and now Colt is supposed to be here in five minutes. Maybe a cup of tea will calm my nerves. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, I reach for a mug and there’s a knock at the door. My heart drops all the way to my toes.
Buzzing with anticipation, I amble towards the door while tucking loose hairs behind my ears. When I pull it open, standing tall and handsome as ever, a pair of whiskey brown eyes burn into me. The corners of my mouth turn down as I try to hide my smile, not wanting to look so desperately happy to see him.
“Are you frowning at me, Libs?” Colt cocks an eyebrow.
“What… no,” I stutter, like an idiot. So much for not embarrassing myself.
Colt’s taps a finger on one corner of my mouth, enticing me to not hide my smile. “Are you comfortable with me being here?”
“Yes.” The word comes out with my breath. His eyes go straight to my mouth and goosebumps prickle my skin. The moment lasts too long before I pull myself out of it. “Do you want to come in?”
He slowly brings his gaze back to mine. “I’d like that.”
Stepping aside to give him room to walk in, I turn and rest my back against the door after closing it. Colt has been here before. We’ve even been alone before, but this time feels different. It is different. The last time he was here because I had been a damsel in distress. Now, I’m just Libby — the girl he wants to spend time with.
He mimics my stance, leaning back against the doorframe of the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Nobody speaks. We just watch, taking each other in. Electricity blazes a path inside me as I watch Colt’s eyes roam my body. He’s so obvious about it, so intense about it, and I subconsciously wrap my arms around myself.
“Libby…” He coaxes. The whistle from the kettle makes me jump. Colt goes to take it off the stove before coming back into the entryway, giving me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to hide from me, Libs.” When I don’t say anything or unwrap my arms, his eyes zero in on mine. “Can I show you something?”
16
