"BEAU..."
From her sympathetic tone alone, I knew I would hate the next words out of Collins' mouth. That gorgeous, talented mouth.
Less than twelve hours ago, I'd told her that mouth was pretty, and then I'd asked her if I could fuck it. Enjoyed the hell out of it, too. And now? Now she was looking at me like she wanted nothing more than to erase last night.
And I wanted nothing more than to repeat it.
"I ordered room service," I said, trying foolishly to save the morning. "Don't worry. I covered the cost already, so it won't go onto your hotel bill."
She shook her head. "You didn't need to do that."
"I wanted to."
An awkward pause filled the hotel room.
"Beau, I think it's best...."
No. Best and whatever Collins was about to say did not match up. I already knew it. Absolutely fucking not.
Her hesitation lasted longer than I'd expected, giving me hope. Even though she was wrapped up in blankets on the far side of the bed, as far as physically possible for me, I became hopeful that maybe she would change her mind.
"What?" I croaked when I couldn't take it anymore.
She sighed, turning until half her back faced me. When she spoke again, it was with a tiny peek over her shoulder.
"I think it's best to call this what it is."
I shifted in the bed, still naked beneath the sheets. "I think I would call it a very successful first date. What would you call it?"
I shouldn't have asked.
"A very successful one-night stand."
—
I had a problem.
It was a problem of epic, monumental proportions, and I had to figure out how to rectify it. Because goddamn, I'd only been on official Collins Bryant Dating Duties for a few days and the idea of doing an unsatisfactory job? Intolerable. Very badly—that was how much I wanted to earn an A on my week one report card, and considering how I never gave a damn about grades before, that oughta say something.
Several days later, I still had not, in fact, made it up to Collins for how we were interrupted on Sunday morning. Not that it was even my fault—thanks a lot, Nessa and Grayson—but I made a promise. And I kept promises, especially when they were made to gorgeous, curly-haired roommates.
It was possible that I was too picky about the details involved in the paying back. Specifically, I needed the kitchen counter to be available when Nessa and football boy were not around, and for whatever goddamn reason, they needed to be around a lot this week.
Actually, I knew the reason. Julian was being a moody asshole lately, so they were steering clear. So I supposed if there was anyone I could take my anger out on, it was OSU's football captain.
"I have to go back to Mammoth Mountain this weekend, baby girl."
And then there was that. I had to head out of town on Friday morning—tomorrow—which meant my time to rectify things was running short.
Collins whipped around, turning away from the easel in the corner of her room where she was touching up the picture she had painted on our date night. She seemed to be celebrating nearly making it through the first week of classes by neglecting homework, which I didn't blame her for one bit.
School was very...bleh.
It was a very articulate opinion on the subject, and I stood by it.
"What?" There was a little bit of orange paint on the side of her face, which made me smile despite the wrecked expression on the rest of it.
"I have another competition."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I do." I weaved around her bed to stand beside her, leaning down to press a kiss on her lips. I meant to be quick, but Collins deepened it needily.
It felt like a reminder.
I'm working on it, baby girl. Okay?
After taking what she wanted, Collins broke the kiss. There was a slight hesitation in her movements, though. In the way she tucked hair behind her ear and bit down on her lip.
"Can I—can I come with?"
Nothing would make me happier than to have Collins join me in the mountains again. First off, I wanted her with me because I always wanted her with me. But also because I didn't like leaving her here alone, not with fucking Phoenix lurking around her life.
But there was one problem.
"You can, but my parents will be there, too."
Collins nibbled on her lip, thinking. That wasn't the problem, though. I'd love for Collins to meet my parents, even if some people might say it was a little early in our relationship, considering we'd been dating for less than a week. Who the fuck cared what other people might say, though.
No, the problem was that Cato might be there this weekend. I'd mentioned it to him when he was there around Christmas, and yesterday he texted me to ask if that was still on the schedule.
Did I want Collins to meet my parents? Yes, yes, I did. Did I want her to meet my twin brother? No, no, I did not. Especially when it might result in a family showdown between him and my mom.
"You should spend that time with your parents," Collins decided, turning back around to focus on her painting.
"You know my mom really wants to meet you," I said softly, brushing her hair out of her face when the strand she'd tucked fell back over her forehead again.
"She knows...about me?"
"She knows about you, sweetheart. Remember the presents?"
"How could I forget the presents? That's not what I meant."
"What do you mean?"
"I meant like about us," she said, a bit shy in the way she said it.
Us. I really liked that there was an us.
"Not yet, but I'm looking forward to telling her. She'll credit herself, of course. For encouraging me to come back over break."
And honestly, Mama Martin would deserve that credit. Pushed me out the damn door, she did.
"I want to meet your mom, too," Collins said, swirling her brush in paint on her palette. "But I still feel bad for taking you away from them over Christmas. Even if I selfishly wouldn't change it for the world. It'll be good for you to have time with them this weekend, and I'm sure there will be another chance for me to meet them. Right?"
I had to clear my throat because of how much it was clogging up. She was so goddamn sweet.
"Right."
I would make another chance.
Her gaze shifted to the side. Barely noticeable, but I saw it. Following her eyes' direction, I spotted a picture in a wooden frame on her windowsill. A portrait of a man, a woman, and two children. One boy. One girl. Probably both under the age of ten, if I had to guess.
I walked over to it, brushing a finger over the little girl. "This you, baby?"
She nodded, swallowing hard. "And my parents and brother."
I scanned over her parents another time. Her dad had Collins' brown skin as well as her eyes; the softness in their gazes was identical. He stood in his military uniform with an arm around her mom, who was blonde with a pale complexion. Well, besides her overly rosy cheeks. I didn't know jack shit about make-up, but maybe too much blush there, Mama Bryant.
Hadn't Collins mentioned that her mom had gone to the east coast to work in theater after her dad died? The woman staring back at me looked like someone who would thrive in that environment.
Either way, I saw Collins in both of them so easily. That artistry in her mom and the gentle pride in her dad.
"What are their names?"
"Elijah and Mia. They met right after my dad enlisted. Shitty timing, but he was determined to make it work. And she believed that he would."
My eyes moved to her brother. "And Cameron, right?"
"Right." A slight sigh. "A lot of people thought that Cam and I were twins growing up. He always looked younger than he was. And I always seemed older. Or at least, that's what people told me," she commented, and I could see what she meant from the picture, about how similar they looked. And from knowing her, it wasn't surprising that people thought she was older than she was.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. It would have been a damn good time to mention that I was a twin. But for some reason, I couldn't get my mouth to say the words.
"Have you told your mom?" I brought up instead. "About us, I mean."
"I might have mentioned it." Collins' expression was cheeky. Adorable. She kept her eyes on her painting as she spoke. "Mom's schedule is hectic. She works far too many jobs, but she carves out time every Monday night to call. So...yeah, I think it might have come up in conversation this week."
I leaned against the windowpane. "You think, huh?"
Another dip of her paintbrush in paint. Her tongue poked the inside of her cheek in concentration. "Yeah. I think I may have said something about having a new boyfriend."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I battled the fireworks in my chest at hearing her mutter the b-word. I was the picture of coolness, of calmness. Not a single person would ever have guessed that my insides were going snap, crackle, and pop like the mascots for a box of goddamn cereal.
"You did, huh?"
"I did." Collins giggled, and man, did I love that sound. I loved that I could expose little bits of joy. "My exact words might have been: hey mom, remember my cute roommate I told you about? We're dating now."
When Collins looked up from her painting, my wide grin greeted her.
"What?" she laughed.
"You told your mom I was cute."
"Seemed like a safe way to describe you." Her lips began to curve. "You know, compared to the other options."
"Other options?" I pressed, slowly working my hands into my pants pockets.
Collins held my stare without responding, and the electricity that passed between us seemed like another reminder of the Collins Bryant Dating Duties I had not fulfilled as promised.
I pulled out my phone, texting Nessa, who happened to be in the room down the hall. But Grayson was in there, and the door was closed. Texting seemed like the best choice.
Me: What are the chances that you have a nine am lecture tomorrow morning, and both you and Grayson will have to leave for it?
Nessa: If you want me to have a nine am lecture, I can have a nine am lecture, Beau.
Me: I want you to have a nine am lecture. Say, Economics?
Nessa: Economics, really? Can't we at least make it something interesting?
Me: You're going to need to understand the economy when you're working in the music industry, Wednesday.
Nessa: You want a favor. Do you really think calling me Wednesday is going to help?
Me: I thought you were cool with it now.
Nessa: Only with Grayson.
I rolled my eyes, and yet, it made me happy. Nessa deserved to like more things about herself, and if Grayson was the one that helped her with it, fine.
Nessa: Okay. Economics lecture tomorrow morning at nine am it is.
Those rice crispies started crackling in my chest again. When Nessa texted again right away, I chuckled.
Nessa: What about...ten am?
Me: I gotta leave for the mountains before ten. Speaking of, can you stick around with Collins this weekend while I'm gone?
Nessa: Of course.
Me: Perfect.
Me: So would it help if I returned the favor?
Nessa: Maybe. When?
Me: I was thinking about taking Collins on a walk in a bit. Such a beautiful day outside.
Nessa: It's cloudy, Beau.
Me: You're really gonna argue with me about that?
Nessa: You're right. Such lovely California weather we're having.
Me: Nice doing business with you, roomie.
When my eyes finally parted from my phone, I found Collins with one raised brow as she carefully stroked her paintbrush on the canvas.
"Nessa," I quickly explained, gesturing to my phone. "When do you, uh, think you'll be done painting?"
If Collins was suspicious, she didn't let on. "I was going to wash out my brushes in a second. I have some homework to do. I'm taking a Lit class to fulfill my generals this semester, and there's already so much reading to do."
"Want to read at The Grounds?" I offered. "We could walk there. I think Bren said he was working tonight."
Collins shrugged. "Sure."
As we walked out of the apartment about fifteen minutes later, I slammed the door behind me. Just so Nessa got the message: the coast was clear.
"Hey." I took Collins' hand in mine, pulling her along next to me on the sidewalk. "Tomorrow's our one-week anniversary, ya know. We should probably celebrate."
Collins shook her head with a breathy laugh. "Only you would want to celebrate a one-week anniversary."
What I wanted was a re-do. Now that we were together and I'd worked through the panic and possibility that Collins would flee on me again, I wanted a re-do. I wanted the morning after, the one I never got. That she never got. She never even gave me the chance to show her what we could be. Not then.
But she was now. And this was my chance.
I tugged Collins into my side and tossed an arm over her shoulders. "Are you saying you don't want to celebrate, baby girl?"
"I do." But then she hip-checked me hard enough that I stumbled sideways into the grass for a step or two. "But seriously, Beau. Nothing over-the-top."
I honestly didn't have time to formulate something over-the-top.
Over-the-counter-top, on the other hand...
Well, I made no promises that that wouldn't happen.
✨
collins...
you might as well give up on beau being over the top. he just *is*
thanks for reading!!
xoxo amelie