I shake my head thinking of it all, a wisp of a smile on my face when I look up to see Haddie and Beckett in a hushed conversation across from me. Haddie’s heels are off and her feet are curled underneath her. Beckett’s long legs are stretched out in front of him, and his fingers absently draw lines on the condensation of his bottle. He’s quite handsome in a non-typical way. I stare at him, realizing that he has definite sex appeal, more than looks. His sandy blonde hair is cropped close to his head and spiked up with gel. His crystal clear blue eyes are fringed by thick lashes. They are quiet eyes that take in and observe in a reserved fashion. He has broad shoulders and a lean build like Colton.
I stare at him, the best friend of my lover, and there is so much I want to ask him about Colton. So many things I think he can shed light on but know he would never betray his buddy by telling me.
Whether by chance or because he feels the weight of my stare, Beckett looks up and meets my eyes, his sentence to Haddie faltering on his lips. He angles his head to the side and twists his lips up as if he’s trying to decide if he should say something or not.
“You know why we’re here right now…why Wood got drunk tonight, don’t you?” His southern accent drawls out as he looks down and shakes his head at the sight of his friend before looking back up me.
“No,” I say.
Beckett leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and looks me straight in the eye. “Because you told him no, Rylee.” He shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. “And nobody, except me, ever tells him no.”
“That’s absurd,” I tell him, looking over at Haddie, who’s arched her eyebrow at the turn in conversation, a pleased smirk on her lips. I realize that Beckett is telling me I am the first female to tell Colton no. To not ask how high when he says jump. I glance down at Colton and back up to Beckett. “Surely one of his many others have told him no before.”
He thinks in silence for a moment before answering. “Not that I know of,” Beckett says, tipping the bottle to his lips, “and if they have, I’ve never seen Colton care like this.” He leans back and stretches out again, and I try to read the unspoken words in his eyes. “He came back from lunch one surly S. O. B., Rylee. I actually felt bad for the people on the other end of our meeting today.” He smiles at the thought. “And then the next thing I know, he was pounding out his frustration on the treadmill. Pulling me to the bar with him to sulk and started making phone calls. Hatching a plan. Telling people we’ll be in Vegas by ten, to get their asses there, and to meet him at the usual place.”
The usual place? “You guys do this often?”
“Every couple of months.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “But here’s the thing, Rylee, no matter who he’s with, I’ve never—never—seen him bring the woman he’s seeing, or whatever the hell he’s doing with them, along with us.” He tips the bottle of the beer at me. “Now that’s something to think about.”
Beckett eyes hold mine until he knows I understand. There’s something different between Colton and me that he hasn’t seen before. I nod my head at him.
He leans forward again. “I’ve known Colton for a long time, Rylee. He can be cocky as hell and a stubborn ass at times, but he’s a good guy. A really good guy.” I can sense the sincerity in his voice and the brotherly love he has for Colton. He looks down at his slumbering friend and back at me. “He may not always go about things the right way, or even know how to go about them at all, but he usually has the best intentions behind his actions.” When I don’t say anything he just nods and continues. “I’m telling you this because you matter to him. More than he’s willing to admit or can acknowledge right now, but it’s important for you to know. Because if he matters to you like I think he does…really matters…not just for the recognition of being with him, but because of who he is, then you need to hear it. Shit,” he swears, running a hand over his jaw and leaning back shaking his head. “I must be drunk if I just told you that. Fuck.” He sighs. “He’d throttle me right now if he knew I was telling you any of this.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, my voice barely a whisper as I try to digest everything he’s just told me—everything I wanted to ask him but was afraid to. My head is reeling with his confession. I try to keep a rein on the hope and possibilities that bubble up inside of me. I matter enough that his best friend notices the difference in him. I just need to remember that unless Colton acknowledges it, these feelings still mean nothing.
Haddie looks over at me and smiles softly, knowing how much I needed to hear this. That these words justify the depths of emotion I already feel for Colton.
He thanks the flight attendant as she hands him another beer. “I’ve said this much, I might as well finish,” he mutters to himself with a sheepish smile spreading on his lips. Colton shifts and turns into me, his face nuzzling my abdomen, and all I want to do is bend down and kiss him. “Trying to control Colton is like trying to grab the wind. Don’t even bother...” he shakes his head “...he’s gonna fuck up, Rylee. He’s going to make a lot of mistakes and say all of the wrong things because he doesn’t know how to do anything other than what he’s been doing.”
Beckett takes a pull on his beer and sighs. “He’ll never admit it Rylee. And unless you are one of the few that are close enough to him to see it, you’d never guess that he’s a man drowning in his past. To accept that there might be more than just the usual arrangement per se with you—and by you being here, there obviously is—he might just pull you down so that you’re drowning with him.” He shifts some in his seat, eyes never breaking from mine. “When that happens, Rylee, more than anything he’s going to need you to be his lifeline. He’s going to be so consumed and obsessed with preventing his past from meeting his future that he’s going to need everything from you to keep him afloat.”