Why I was stood in front of my mirror at 5:55pm the next day wearing one of my favourite outfits, I didn't know. Why I was letting all of this happen, I also didn't know. All I knew was that at some point this afternoon, after a day of procrastinating and questioning life, I had slipped on a fishnet top, a black crop top with a white print on it, and a pair of black pants with chains hanging down from the belt loops — and my boots, of course. My hands felt clammy, not that it mattered as there wasn't going to be any physical contact anyway. Not if I had a say... which I would. Colby's weird turn —which wasn't so much a turn as a reveal — had me thinking he'd respect my boundaries, aside from what happened yesterday.
It was six pm on the dot when I heard a knock at my front door. My entire body practically crippled in on itself, and I felt like I was going to faint. This was not like me at all. I didn't like it, so I let Colby wait outside my apartment and took some deep breaths, moving up and down on the balls of my feet. Only when I felt that familiar frustration did I dare to leave my bedroom.
I opened the front door and sucked in a breath. Colby stood on the other side in an outfit so simple, it shouldn't have made my knees feel wobbly, but it did. He was just wearing a plain black shirt, cut strangely on the arms with what seemed to be a slit above a pair of black jeans like my own with chains. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would stand out. But utterly Colby, and somehow I knew that. He had a hesitant look on his face. Neither of us knew how we stood after yesterday — after last night.
I decided that I would take the lead, despite my lack of breath. "Hi," I said. I sounded annoyed already, and cleared my throat. "This is going to be difficult."
"It is," he agreed, looking me up and down. "But there's a chance it's worth it, and I'm known to take chances."
I raised a brow. "You are, huh? Is that why you're dressed so plainly?"
He glanced down at himself, then back at me. I rolled my eyes and almost smiled. "I didn't expect much from you anyways. Now, where are we going?" It was a demand.
"To eat."
"Helpful. Where?"
He didn't answer. I tried not to let the anger bubble up in me as I clenched my jaw and breathed a sigh. My phone and keys felt heavy in my hands, weighing them down from being able to punch him in the face. I was grateful.
"Come on," he finally said, stepping back. He was trying not to sound impatient, so I tried not to mention it. I stepped into the hall and pulled my door shut behind me, locking it while Colby waited. Then we started down the hallway in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but I also wouldn't call it comfortable. When we reached the outside parking lot for guests, I realised suddenly that we would be riding in a car together. An enclosed space for who knows how long... God help me.
Colby held my door for me. Instead of saying thank you, I spoke the asshole language. "Could have done it myself."
So he responded in the same language — "Shame" — then he pushed the door shut and walked around to the driver side. I crossed one of my legs over the other and settled in my seat, taking a breath of the fresh air before he got in. His smell — definitely some kind of intoxicating cologne — filled the car the second he was in it. I couldn't help myself when I breathed in now, wanting to smell it. I thought he smiled at me but I couldn't be sure because I refused to look at him.
The drive was short and sweet, but we ended up somewhere I didn't really expect. I looked up at Tender Greens — one of my favourite places to eat ever. I tried to contain my excitement as I shifted in the car seat.
"Do you mind?" Colby muttered, feeling the effects of my shifting.
I glared at him. "Don't ruin my mood... please."
He didn't reply, climbing out. I waited for him to open my door, and he did, then stepped aside so he could close it. He nodded towards the front door. We walked, again, in silence. As much as I loved just existing with someone, I hoped this chance-taking would end in some conversations between us about us.
The hostess was pretty, and I cursed her in my head. She was looking at Colby like he was a piece of meat. Why did I feel jealous? Why did I want to rip her hair out and feed it to her, just to make her suffer for looking at Colby? Something was wrong with me.
"Table for two," Colby said.
I looked up at him, curious if he was looking at the hostess, but his eyes were focused on the rest of the room. I was surprised, even more so when he met my gaze and smiled at me. It was sweet and made my heart swell. I almost smiled back.
"This way," the hostess announced, breaking up our moment.
I rolled my eyes as we walked through the restaurant to a table and sat down opposite each other — classic date style. She glanced between us and literally huffed under her breath.
"Your waiter will be with you shortly."
"Slut," I muttered as I watched her swing her hips. I turned back to Colby's gaze, which had turned confused and was still on me. "What?"
"Why is she a slut?"
"You heard that?" I gasped, covering my mouth.
He smirked.
I rolled my eyes, nodding towards the hostess now greeting a small family. "Because she was trying to get your attention, duh! Swinging her hips and all that. What a whore." I growled the last bit.
Colby smiled. "Are you jealous?"
I scoffed. "I don't get jealous."
He raised a brow, cocking his head to the side.
"Shut up."
"Didn't say anything," he said through a smile.
Thankfully, the waiter was a guy and he kept his eyes, hands, and hips to himself. He was also a lot older. I didn't get a chance to see if Colby would be jealous, too, but part of me didn't care. We were here and neither of us had ripped the other's eyes out yet.
Finally, it was just us and an empty table, the promise of food coming shortly wavering in the air. I stared down at my hands at first, which were resting on the table, and then I looked up at Colby. He was staring at me — I wasn't sure if he'd stopped yet. My feelings started up again.
I sighed. "What are you looking for with me?" I asked. "Like, to put a label on it. It'll be easier for my head to wrap around why the fuck we're here."
"Princess, you aren't going to wrap your head around it." His voice was silky and smooth when he said princess; I felt like I could explode right there. "And what labels are there?"
"I don't know?" I said, exasperated. "Relationship? You know, boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"No," he replied immediately.
My heart dropped, though I didn't know why. He looked horrified by the labels 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'. I supposed I shouldn't have expected anything different.
"I don't do those labels."
My anger flared. "Then what are we doing here?" I snapped at him. "Hanging out? Because this fucking feels like a date to me."
He was silent.
"You dare disagree with me."
His eyes flicked to meet mine. "I just don't do 'girlfriend', alright?"
I scoffed. "No, that's no alright. Unless you wanna hit it and quit it — which I'm not letting you do — that's the only thing on the table. Besides friendship, that is." But the word friendship didn't fit in with us when I imagined it; me and him like me and Tara... we seemed like so much more.
"Let's drop this," he said.
"Oh, hell no. You're not doing that."
He didn't look up from the table now.
"Or I'm walking through that door and you'll never see me again."
He sounded exasperated. "Rebecca, I don't like the label. What else is there to say?"
"Why?" I demanded instantly.
He went to groan, but the waiter appeared and put down our plates. I wanted to throw him across the room. I knew what Colby was like. As soon as the waiter walked away, Colby was pretending like our previous conversation wasn't happening, like he'd forgotten about it. But I wasn't stupid, and he should have known that.
"Colby," I said sternly, "still considering walking out that door."
"Don't," he said suddenly. Before I knew what was happening, his hand was on top of mine and he was looking into my eyes. I felt the panic that he felt when I said that I was leaving. I remembered last night when he had stood up and I'd panicked in just the same way instantly, though I'd controlled my urge to stop him.
"Okay..." I said slowly, pulling my hand away. I needed a clear head and coherent thoughts. I waited for him to speak after that. He took a while, eating a little, drinking some, and then scanning completely around the restaurant. And when his eyes met mine, they were stern.
"Girlfriend doesn't sit right with potential enemies and rivals."
"Enemies and rivals?" I repeated, frowning.
"Yes. I have enemies, Rebecca, and they're dangerous. Almost as dangerous as me. I guess I should have said that last night... well, anyway, if word got out that I have a girlfriend, there'd be no point in all the work I've done."
"So, you wouldn't call me your girlfriend to save your reputation." I knew I sounded offended, because I was. And I was a little hurt. "I know you're an asshole, but I didn't think you were that kind of asshole."
"What did you expect?" he snapped. "For me to pick you up and parade you around with a sign saying 'girlfriend' over your head?"
I kind of smiled at the idea — he looked a little amused, too, for just a moment. "That's not me. This isn't me."
I bit the inside of my cheek. "This isn't me either, but I'm here — and not even out of pity. Though, you have been acting quite soft."
He practically growled at me.
"Better."
He frowned. "Better?"
"Haven't you figured me out by now?" I rolled my eyes as I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "I don't like softies. Take Tara and Katrina for example. Katrina blushes, Tara calls me a bitch. And who's closer to me?"
"Tara," he replied quietly.
I smirked. "Exactly. It isn't a coincidence. So don't think I expect you to go around holding my hand and calling me pet names and showing me off. However, I do expect a label. If we're doing this, we're fucking doing this. All or nothing, baby." I didn't mean to say the last word. I fought a blush. "So, Colby. Which one is it?"