“Colton, dammit. I’m trying to talk to you.”
Admittedly, not the best communication opener of all time, but I was anxious to get to the meat of this. I needed a freaking clear understanding because the runaround between us was wearing me out.
Without turning his attention to me, he continued to watch something across the quad as he answered, “If you fucking apologize to me, I’ll never forgive you.”
My relief was instant. If he didn’t want me to apologize that had to mean he didn’t hate what I’d done. If he didn’t hate what I’d done, I could deal with the rest.
Cocking up a sassy eyebrow, I said, “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve never forgiven me for any apology I’ve given you.” My words faded as I realized how true that sentiment was. Struck straight in the chest with dread, I blurted. “Holy shit, you don’t forgive me, do you? For what I said that night at the wedding?”
He finally glanced at me, and his eyes swirled with emotion. I couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no.
Instead of answering, he pointed in the direction he’d been staring. “You see that girl over there?”
“What?” I blinked and glanced out into the quad.
“The redhead sitting on the bench by herself, close to the big evergreen tree, doing homework.”
“Yeah…” I said slowly, crinkling my brow with confusion as I turned my gaze back to him. “What about her?”
“First month of college last semester, back in August,” he murmured, sliding his gaze contemplatively back to the redhead. “We met at a party. Started talking, had a couple drinks.”
I swallowed, really not liking where this was headed.
“I was into her,” he went on. “I mean, of course I was into her. She was fun and smart, pretty, easy to talk to. So we ended up in the back room and, you know…” He gave an uneasy shrug. “We hooked up.”
I swerved back to the redhead and gaped at her with new insight. “You had sex with her? With that girl?”
My stomach immediately cramped, and my vision wavered. I had to blink a few times to clear my eyes, suddenly hating the oblivious redhead who was tucking a long strand of bright red hair behind her ear as she flipped a page on her book. I didn’t care that it had happened months ago, back when Colton and I had barely even known each other and he’d probably only flirted with me at the bar to tick me off, back when I never would’ve even entertained the idea of starting something with him. I hated her anyway because she’d had him and I hadn’t.
So why the hell was he telling me about her? Did he want to make me jealous?
“Yeah,” he mumbled, as if reluctant to admit his escapades. Then he added, “We must’ve passed out or something afterward because the next morning I woke up to her sobbing hysterically. She was stumbling around, yanking her clothes back on, and mumbling about how our night together had been the worst mistake she’d ever made.”
I turned to him and frowned when I noticed he looked extremely regretful.
“I…” He shook his head and had to start over before meeting my eyes. “I never had a girl regret being with me before. It sucked. I mean, it really, really sucked. She was so upset, and nothing I said would make her feel better. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten her name or was looking for a one-night stand, either. I would’ve been perfectly willing to see her again and maybe start something if she’d been interested. But she ran off without even talking to me or giving me her number, or an explanation, or anything. And every time I’ve crossed paths with her since then, she’s turned around and fled in the opposite direction, like, I don’t know, I’m some kind of awful piece of shit or something for taking advantage of her because she’d been drunk or whatever, which I didn’t think I had done. I hadn’t exactly been sober myself. But then…then…” He jabbed his hand back toward the redhead. “Then I saw her hanging around that guy.”
I glanced over just in time to see a guy approach and sit next to the redhead. When she looked up and saw him, she smiled and kissed him on the lips.
“And then I had to wonder,” Colton continued, “did she have a boyfriend then? She never mentioned a boyfriend to me, and she was the one who suggested the back room. She knew exactly where to take me to find us a spot. She even kissed me first. So is she just a cheater? Did she turn me into a fucking cheater?”
“No,” I said sternly, shaking my head. “If she came on to you and never once told you about another guy in her life, then that’s all on her. Not you.”