CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KOLBY
This has been the single most longest weekend of my entire existence. It's like everyone decided on Friday that I was apparently too boring for them, and went out and left. Okay, maybe I'm being a tad bit dramatic here, but; Sadie had a date, Braden went MIA, Colton and Reid were too drunk or hungover one to function, and Indigo just up and left.
It's Monday now, though, and everyone is back. Braden's in a mood, of all moods, Colton and Reid can finally say a full sentence without slurring every other word, and I've yet to see either of the girls, considering they don't live here, but according to the SnapChats I've received from Sadie this morning, Indigo and her are at Triple Threat, their favorite restaurant.
Unfortunately, us guys have a training session at nine.
I'm tying up my tennis shoes when someone bangs on my door. "Kolby come on! We're gonna be late again!"
"I'm fucking getting ready," I yell out to Braden. Don't get me wrong, I'd kill for the guy, but also, I'd kill the guy.
"Get ready faster," he argued back.
I roll my eyes and huff. I finish tying my shoes, and then throw a hoodie on over my tee shirt. God, I fucking hate training. I hate running, I hate lifting, hate it all.
I open up my door, just as Braden lifts his fist to pound on my door again. But he pauses in time before it collided with my nose. He doesn't smile or anything, just grunts.
I, personally, crack a grin at his appearance. He's in a wife beater and black sweats, and looks like the definition of death. Black circles haunt his under eyes, his black hair is a mess, and, though I'm sure it's not possible, it's like even his tattoos have taken on a saddened persona, blurry black smudges instead of sharp, crisp lines. Or maybe I'm just fucking exhausted, too.
He shoves my keys at my chest, and I'm able to grip them just before they fall. "You drive."
I scoff, but walk towards the door. But Braden grabs me by the back of my head, and directs me into the kitchen first. "Breakfast," he grunts.
I quickly grab a granola bar, and then we're off to the gym.
I cringe as I open the front door. It's so cold, and I want nothing more than to climb back into my bed and wallow in self pity. Or maybe self hatred would be better, isnt that always what gives those other guys top tier character development?
I climb into the driver side of my truck, and Braden sits beside me.
I put the key in the ignition and wait for the glow plugs to warm up, before letting the engine roar to life. And then I lean back, giving her a few minutes to warm up.
I heave a sigh and glance over at Braden. For once, he's not staring at his phone, but rather, at me, with furrowed brows.
"What?" I grumble, running a hand through my hair.
"So are you and Indigo together yet? I'm getting impatient over here." He crosses his tattooed arms over one another.
Me and you both, I almost say. Instead, I just shake my head, looking out the windshield at the cold world. "She says I'm not boyfriend material."
He huffs out a laugh, "Harsh.Sounds like you just need to prove to her that you are."
"That's what she said, too," I pause, kicking the truck into drive. If we don't leave now, we'll be late, "But I don't even know where to start — maybe she's right, maybe I jsit need to stick to fucking random girls in little skirts, yeah?"
"No?" Braden says, sounding shocked. He gestures back towards the house, "Man, I've watch you wallow and womp and grouch and be a sad little princess for the the last month. Face it, Kolbs, you're in love with the girl."
Love . . . Love is a very strong word.
Before I can speak, he hits my arm, "And don't start with how 'love is a big word'. You're right, it is, but how else would you explain it? Kolby, you haven't even looked at another girl since the night of the showcase."
I stop at a red light, and turn to face him entirely. He's right. Damn him and his sit and observe-ness. He knows too much.
I don't tell him any of that though, instead, I ask him the question I've been asking myself for the past seventy eight hours.
"How do I prove that?"
• • •
Lifting is grueling. By the time we're done, it's like every muscle in my body is on fire. Coach is up front, talking to us all. Being completely honest here, I haven't heard a word from his mouth. I'm fucking exhausted, and the last thing I want to here about is how we need to improve by the fall. For, like, the fiftieth time. Like, we get it. We've sucked ever since last years seniors left us. I'm not one of those guys who lives, eats, and breathes, football, I just play it because it's fun. Now, Jess, on the other hand . . . He's a great player, with the passion to last him a million life times.
"— free to go, see you on Wednesday," I hear Coach say.
Braden (who I think was also zoning out just as hard) and I practically sprint back to my truck, relieved to be away from the gym. It's only eleven, and the only food I've had was a damn granola bar. I look over at Braden, and wiggle my brows, "Triple Threat?"
He shrugs, and then pats his stomach, "Could go for a burger."
Triple Treat is a quick forty minute drive, and soon enough, the two of us are squished in a small booth in a corner of the little restaurant.
There's not many people inside, just a few older couples drinking coffee and talking loudly. Before us, is our food.
My plate is a pile of fatty meat and carbs, similarly to Braden's. We both got burgers, the largest ones on the menus, topped with bacon, and all the veggies. Fries, coated in cheese and bacon, and then a split appetizer of fried pickles lays between us. It's like a fucking feast.
We waste no time in chowing down, starving after the brutal workout we just pushed our poor bodies through. But damn, is the grease coating my tongue worth the work.
It takes us all of ten minutes to scarf down our food, down to the very last crumb.
"So," Braden says as he stacks our plates up at the door of the table. Then, he takes his hands and makes a rainbow, "Operation Make Indigo Believe Kolby Is Not A Fuck Boy, what is our first course of action?"
I scoff, shaking my head, and taking a swig of my Coke, "Fuck if I know." I gesture to him, "You've had girlfriends before, what did you do?"
"High school girls who want free Mexican food and Indigo aren't exactly comparable, bud."
I open my mouth to say something, but the two waitresses squealing makes both Braden and I turn in slight fear.
They're talking so loudly we don't even have to try and eavesdrop.
"I can't believe he did that for you," one of the girls says, smiling brightly, "It's so sweet."
"I know," the other girl says, and then she takes something out her pocket, "There was a love note, too."
"Flowers and a love note?" The original girl says, "God, Amy, he must, like, love you or something. I've never had a guy buy me flowers. I'm kind of jealous. Where'd you get him — Amazon?"
Braden and I whip our heads to face another, smiles blooming on our faces. Flowers.
"How the hell did we not think of that?" He mutters as we stand.
"Cuz we're fucking stupid."
He laughs as we head out of the door, towards my truck, and then, to the flower shop.
author's note:
thoughts?
anyways, check out the new cover!! i have very limited cover-making abilities, but i adore a minimal cover anyway!
i'm super excited — i'm going to start planning out the second book in this series soon, and though i love both indigo && kolbs, i'm thrilled at the idea of getting into other characters heads!! any thoughts on what's gonna go down in the second book?
also, very exciting news; this book is officially halfway posted! this second half is gonna be juicy, drama-filled, and overall just a grand ole time 🤪
do any of y'all have any song ideas for this book? i'm wanting to make a playlist for you guys, and give this thing an overall aesthetic revamp! i primarily listen to country music 😬 with some pop/rock in there too, so i'd love some recs you feel fit this story/the story's vibe!!
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