“Nope,” he said immediately, “think tonight my point was made.”
I stared at him and realized he was right. That bellow of my name, calling attention to us, getting the admission out of Aaron, casting doubt on Stew (good doubt, anyone who thought twice about it, which they probably didn’t decades ago, would feel foolish for ever considering I’d give it to Stew), my and Morrie’s conversation, all of it was perfectly played. Not to mention, Colt and I were back together and as back together as you could get, kissing and sharing Frank’s in the bar, me living with him. Two weeks ago everyone knew Colt wouldn’t get near me and they thought this partially because they thought I’d run around. Truth was, I was always his woman and me running around, even broken up, was viewed as a betrayal (and girls were always looked down on if they had that reputation, earned or not). As ever about anything in a small town, but especially Colt and me, word would fly. Any guy who told their tale was probably going to look like a schmuck.
“You Superman?” I asked softly.
“How’s that?”
“Leap buildings in a single bound, salvage girl’s reputations in a second, that kind of thing?”
He was quiet for awhile before he replied, “I can’t leap buildings in a single bound, but I can make you come so hard you put a hole in my drywall.”
“I didn’t put a whole in your drywall.”
“Glad that’s Plexiglas on the print and I fixed it good, baby, or we’d be lyin’ in a bed of glass.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I said through my smile.
We both fell silent, me now thinking nothing but happy thoughts. I’d find out Colt wasn’t thinking the same.
“You know, there wasn’t a reputation to salvage.”
This comment so surprised me, I lifted up my head and looked at him.
“What?”
“People love you, February.”
I shook my head and settled back down but his hand squeezed my ass and he ordered, “Look at me, Feb.”
“Colt –” I started but stopped when I got another squeeze.
“Baby, look at me.”
I did as I was told.
“I told you about that kid we brought in, Ryan,” Colt said.
Oh shit. I didn’t want to think of all the shit he told me over Frank’s that night, about the new people who Denny duped and sent straight into their own nightmares.
“Colt –”
“He said, watchin’ you, he could tell you were nice. People gravitated to you. He wasn’t wrong, Feb.”
I shook my head and said, “It’s late. Let’s go to sleep.”
Colt rolled into me, obviously not feeling like taking my hint to drop the subject. When he had me on my back and his dark shadow loomed over me, he kept talking.
“People love you.”
“Stop it, Colt, we both know –”
“They do now and they always did.”
“That isn’t true,” I whispered.
“It is.”
“You didn’t feel it,” I told him.
“No, I reckon people were surprised, what went down, maybe disappointed, what they heard, and you felt that, but they never stopped lovin’ you.”
“Colt –”
His hand came to my jaw and tightened. “February, listen to me. You never stopped bein’ you. It mighta been subdued but you were always the girl who looked out for the Angies and Darryls of the world. You were always an Owens, collectin’ strays. You never changed that, no matter what they thought of the other.”
“I don’t think –”
His thumb slid over my lips. “Trust me, Feb. Now, they won’t ever think of the other.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” I said to his thumb and he laughed. It wasn’t with humor, there was a bitter edge to it that pressed against my flesh.
“Not much about the wrongs done us I can put right. That’s one so I did it. Fuckin’ thrilled when that asshole walked in the bar tonight. Meant I didn’t have to delay.”
God, I loved him, always had, always would. I loved him so much, that feeling of fullness started to press against my skin from the inside and there was so much of it, I didn’t think I could hold it all.
I wanted to tell him, I really did. I wanted to share, let him know. But this was new, just as it was old and the idea terrified me.
So instead of I love you, I said, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, honey, I believed it too. That’s part of the wrong I made right tonight, lettin’ people know I was just as much of an asshole believin’ that shit as they were.”
“You aren’t an asshole,” I defended.
“You called me one just five minutes ago,” he teased.
“Oh, right,” I muttered. “I forgot about that,” I told him. “And I was jokin’.”
“I know you were, Feb.” Before I could say anything else, he kissed me then rolled us back so we’d resumed our positions and declared, “Now we can go to sleep.”
“Oh, so now we can go to sleep, now that you’re done talkin’?”
“Well… yeah.”
“I was right.”
“What?”
“Asshole.”
A short laugh, this one was filled with humor.
Then, “Shut up and close your eyes, baby.”
He was totally bossy.
Still, I did as I was told.
Wilson jumped up and curled his body mostly on our tangled feet, only partially on the bed, and I fell asleep.
*
A phone started ringing; I knew it was mine from the tone. It was my cell that sat next to Colt’s on his nightstand, the one he put there, digging it out of my purse when we got home, preparing, just in case.
It jarred me awake which jarred Wilson awake but by the time I lifted my head to stare at it in sleepy horror, Colt was reaching toward the glaring light of the phone display that seemed to pierce right through the dark like a beacon of doom.
He brought it to his face as I got up on an elbow and he flipped it open and put it to his ear as I held my breath.
“Yeah?” There was a pause while I let out and pulled in just enough breath not to suffocate. “Yeah. She’s right here.”