Page 117 of Broken Saint

A smirk twitches at my lips. “Jealous, Bro?”

“Ella is yours, man. I would never?—”

“I didn’t mean her. I meant a woman’s thighs generally. You remember what that’s like?”

“There is nothing wrong with being focused. We don’t all want to be photographed every other day with a different woman.”

“It’s been ages since that happened,” I argue.

“A few months at most.”

“That’s a long time.”

“For a dog like you, yeah.”

“If all you’re going to do is slut shame me, I’m hanging up.”

“I’m shaming no one.”

“Bro, go and get laid. It’ll make you play better if your balls aren’t so heavy.”

“Not advice I remember Dad ever giving us, but okay.”

“He doesn’t know everything,” I say with a smile.

“And neither do you. Tell Ella, Colt. She’ll understand.”

I blow out a pained breath, hating that he’s right.

Every time I’ve even thought about what has always held me back with her since she arrived in Seattle, I’ve known that it’s got to happen.

Even if this doesn’t go anywhere—even if she turns her back on me because the reality of a future with me is too much to handle—she deserves to know the truth. To understand the reason I always held back. Why I’m so fucking terrified.

“Yeah,” I agree after a long, silent moment.

“Trust her, Colt. She’s good people. If there’s anyone you want on your team, it’s her.”

“I know. I’m just?—”

“Scared?” he interrupts, repeating my confession from earlier. “Trust. Her.”

“I had other things I wanted to do with her tonight.”

“I’m sure you’ll find time to squeeze it all in,” he teases.

“It is a tight fit,” I muse. “Fucking good, though.”

“Okay, I’m done. I’ll talk to you later, okay? You got this.”

“Thanks, Bro. See you on the weekend, yeah?”

“You got it. I’ll be the one beating your ass.”

“Whatever,” I scoff before cutting the call and sitting up higher.

Trust her.

Should be easy, right? It’s just Ella.

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