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“White 80!” he shouted, and I turned around.
“What?”
“It just means we’re ready. Get into position.”
I didn’t know why those words made my face flush, but I quickly put my head down between my legs. Colton extended his hands, waiting for the football, while I closed my eyes and hiked it toward him. Miraculously, he caught it.
“Run!” he shouted, and I did.
I ran as fast as I could toward the tree, arms pumping on either side of me. The tree was less than a foot away when harsh breaths caught up to me, and then two hands grabbed me from the waist and pulled me back.
I froze.
I knew it was Paul holding me tightly against his body, but the feeling of being held down terrified me. The blood drained from my body and I shivered from the cold. My eyes were open, but I saw nothing in front of me except a fuzzy blue haze.
Someone called my name. It was Colton. He sounded panicked. I forced my eyes to focus and slowly Colton’s familiar figure became clearer. He was far away, but I could distinguish his shape and then his face. In the next moment, his eyes rounded to the size of footballs.
Running toward Colton, roaring with his arms outstretched, was Robert. Although he was shorter than Colton, the man had momentum on his side, and Colton was unprepared for the unstoppable train coming straight at him. Robert barreled into Colton, sending both men flying into the air, and then Colton landed hard on his back.
Paul let go of me to whoop and celebrate his father’s tackle. I briefly closed my eyes and waited for the adrenaline to slow down and my fears to subside. When I opened them, the two men were still on the ground. Having broken his fall on Colton’s prone body, Robert stood first.
“You okay there, Colton?” he asked, extending his hand.
Colton took it, lifting himself off the ground.
“Good game,” said Colton. “But I think Frances and I are done for the day.” He dusted his jeans as he walked up to me.
Robert laughed and called out, “Now you know what you’re getting yourself into, Crawford.” Colton seemed to ignore him, walking straight toward me.
“You okay?” he asked in a low voice. “Your face went pale and blank when Paul grabbed you.”
I nodded. “I’m okay.” I meant it too. Now that I was free from Paul’s tight grip, I could breathe normally. I also recalled Colton’s face right before Robert tackled him. “Are you all right?” I asked.
Colton shook his head but laughed. “I should have known he was one tough son of a bitch. I shouldn’t have underestimated him.”
“It’s not your fault. People often allow you to see only what they want you to see,” I said, thinking how many times I’d hidden from the world.
Colton looked pensive, his eyes unfocused. “Yes. And I seemed to get fooled every time.”
Guilt chewed my insides. But when I looked up at him again, he wasn’t staring at me. No accusatory glare or even a sad little smile. His face remained hard, and he looked toward the treetops. Then, I finally understood. Someone else had hurt him before.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
My question brought his gaze to my face, and he gave me that sad smile I’d looked for earlier. “Do you want to talk about what happened in your past?”
Huh. He got me there. “No.”
“That’s what I thought.” Dusting the dirt off his sweater, Colton straightened and stared at the cloudy sky. “Guess neither of us is ready to be honest with each other yet.”
He was right. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, and it sounded like neither was he. That left us at an impasse. How could we move past what happened at work if we weren’t willing to trust each other with our secrets?
I hadn’t expected Colton to say that, but I was glad of it. We’d both admitted we were keeping secrets from one another and that felt like the most honest we'd been since I’d walked into his office. At least with our clothes on. I smiled at the memory.
I’d never been closer to anyone than I’d been that night in Miami with Colton. But then my walls went up the next day, and while they still hadn’t come down, perhaps there was a window now and I could see into Colton’s heart a little clearer. Someone he loved and trusted had hurt him. I could feel it in my own heart.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked when we reached the porch stairs.
“Just that I think I understand you a little better now,” I said, waiting on the bottom step.
