Page 70 of Never Really Over

He smirks.

“You wouldn’t hit a defenseless woman, would you?”

“Like you did to us? Absolutely.”

I keep walking backward, hoping there’s nothing behind me because I can’t look away from Colt or he’ll no doubt pelt me with the balloon. Not that it matters because I’m soaking wet anyway, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, a big part of me is getting a thrill out of the chase.

Come get me, Colt.

I raise my eyebrows at him and he raises his right back.

“Shoulda thought this whole water balloon fight through, Layla,” he says, making a point to gaze at my chest.

“Why you looking?”

“’Cause I wanna.”

Oh. You can look all right. Chase me and then look your fill.

Poppy makes a sound and it distracts him enough to look over at her and I take my chance, running as fast as I can.

Right into the circle of chairs I was just sitting in.

Down I go, somersaulting over three with far less grace than I’d like.

He’s hot on my heels, too, not even concerned about my wipeout. Of course, I’m not hurt in the least, now on my back with my knees bent and tears running down my temples from laughing so hard.

Colt comes to a stop, both feet planted beside me, looking down with a grin I haven’t seen inages.

“Got you just where I want you.”

Oh, do ya now?

He seems to know what my brain was saying and he nods.

Or maybe I said it out loud. I’m still incredibly buzzed and add to that the euphoria of the water balloon fight and I’m likely to be pretty loose-tongued at this point.

He unceremoniously drops the balloon right on my chest.

Splash.

If I wasn’t wet before, I definitely am now. In more ways than one.

“Got you wet,” he says, suggestively.

“You definitely did.”

Colt holds a hand out for me and helps me up with ease. I pop up on my feet but he doesn’t let go of my hand, rather keeps me close so our wet bodies are touching.

We’re staring at each other, my breasts brushing against his chest with every deep inhale I take.

“Uncle Colt?” I hear a little voice ask, interrupting our moment. Which is probably a good thing because I was half a second away from lifting on my toes and kissing the man right in the middle of a birthday party filled with kids and our friends — and yes, I can definitely call them my friends once again.

“Yeah, Fiona?”

“I think Poppy is ready for bed. She’s getting fussy.”

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