And yet for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was falling in love with him.
And it felt real.
Colt threw the covers back and began getting out of bed. “Don’t do this, Olivia.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t put your shit with Declan onto me.”
“That’s what you think I’m doing?”
“Yes, Olivia, that’s exactly what I think you’re doing. You’re acting like I hurt you, when really the person you’re upset about is Declan.”
I sat up in bed and gathered the sheets around me angrily. My first instinct was to run away, to leave this room, this apartment, to find somewhere to cut myself and then return to the shelter and never look back.
But something was pushing me not to do that, was pushing me to actually try to feel my emotions, to try and express them instead of running away.
“Did you ever stop and think that maybe this isn’t about Declan?” I demanded. “That maybe I went to see Declan and all I could think about was you? That maybe what we did just now, what we did earlier, actually meant something to me?”
Colt was getting dressed, and he zipped his jeans and then grabbed his shirt off the floor. “You’re too smart for that.”
“Too smart for what?”
“To let this mean something to you.” He started to pull his shirt on, but I stood up and grabbed his arm.
“Why?” I said. “Why, Colt? Why would you say something like that?”
“Forget it.” He went to wrench out of my grasp, but I held onto him.
“Colt.”
He turned, his dark eyes locking on mine.
“Why?” I pressed. “Why would I be too smart to let this mean something to me?”
“Olivia, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t push me like this. I warned you. I told you I wasn’t the guy for you.” Hot tears pricked my eyes and for a moment, I wondered if maybe he was right, if maybe I’d been stupid enough to do the exact same thing with Colt that I’d done with Declan, if I’d pinned all my hopes on him instead of protecting myself.
It felt different, but was that just because I’d slept with him?
It didn’t matter, I told myself.
Cold had made it clear how he felt.
And one thing I was smart enough to realize was when someone didn’t want me.
I turned away and began gathering my clothes.
Colt sighed. “Olivia.”
But I didn’t answer.
“Olivia,” he said again, louder this time.
“It’s fine,” I said, and now my walls were back up. “I heard you loud and clear.”
“Olivia, stop.” He reached out and took my hand and he whirled me around, pulling me toward him until my bare breasts were flush against his chest. “You said it yourself, Olivia,” he whispered.
I loved the way he said my name, making it sound exotic and wonderful on his lips, like I was the only one in the world with that name. “What?” I asked, confused. “What did I say, Colt?”
He pulled me toward him even tighter, his hand on the small of my back, and I could feel his nails digging into my skin, almost like he was afraid I was going to get away.
“You said I was wasting my life working at the club.”
“What?” I asked, confused. “No, I didn’t.” And then I remembered that I had, or at least a version of that. I think you’re better than that.
“You did.” He looked away from me then, but not before I could see the pain reflected in his eyes. “But what you were wrong about, Olivia, is when you said I was too good for that place. I’m not too good for it. And that is why I’m not the right man for you.”
His nails pressed deeper into my skin, and I could feel the desperation rushing through him, like he was terrified that whatever he was about to say would make me run. But I’d never wanted to stay in one place more in my entire life than I did right then, with him.
“Why would you say that?” I whispered. “Why would you say that about yourself?”
He shook his head and my breath hitched as I waited for him to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He released me then and sat down on the side of the bed, put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.
I went and sat next to him. “It matters to me.”
He stayed silent, broody, and I was afraid if I didn’t get him talking soon, he would shut down completely.
“Colt,” I said. “Please, what… I just want to