Page 83 of Fake Shot

“Looks like she knows Colt pretty well.” I hate the acidity of my tone. He’s been with other people; it’s not like I don’tknow that about him. At least he hasn’t been with anyone else in a long time.

Audrey grasps my forearm and gives me what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay if he has a past. It’s only the present and future that matter. Don’t let that get to you.”

I wonder for a second if my brother would feel the same way. He knows Colt in a way neither of us do. He’s seen him living his wild ways. And it makes even more sense to me now why he’d make Colt promise not to touch me. It doesn’t change how I feel, or what I want, but it helps me understand Jameson’s insistence.

We walk up behind Colt and Jasmine as he slides her hand off his arm and says, “I’ve told you I’m not interested.” There’s a hard edge in his voice that even drunk me doesn’t miss. I wonder if he’s slept with her in the past. I wonder if I’ll have to ask that question about every woman he knows?

You’re not actually engaged, I remind myself.Who he’s slept with in the past is none of your business.Still, I hate that he’s been with so many women, whether it meant anything to him or not.

He glances over his shoulder like he senses me standing there, and his face is nothing but happy and grateful to find me standing there. Pushing back his chair, he steps toward me, asking, “You ready?”

“You’re not going to introduce me to your friend?” I ask, giving him a little wink so he’ll know I’m giving him shit. To be honest, I just want this chick to meet his fiancée, because either she doesn’t know he’s engaged, or more likely, she knows and doesn’t even care.

“Jasmine,” he says, glancing down at her, “this is my fiancée, Jules. Jules, this is Jasmine.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, but I don’t even bother extending my hand. Instead, I wrap my arm around Colt’s waist and say, “Let’s go home, babe.”

We head straight toward the door of the bar, and on the way there, he says, “Babe, huh?” with a laugh.

“Felt appropriate in the moment. I’ve never seen you needing to be rescued before.”

“I didn’t need to be rescued, but I’m glad you were there, anyway.”

The steep hills and uneven sidewalks of Beacon Hill are more of a challenge than I expect, but finally we arrive at the Boston Common, where the streets give way to wide, more modern sidewalks. They don’t have the charm of Beacon Hill, but they’re a hell of a lot more practical.

“Are you really going to make me walk the whole way home?” I ask.

“Yes, I am,” he says, sounding very proud of himself.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you need to sober up a bit, and I’m taking good care of you.”

I laugh and give his chest a light smack. “You’re barely putting up with me.”

He comes to a stop, his arm around my shoulders making me stop as well. “What are you talking about? Ienjoytaking care of you. You’re one of my favorite people.”

“Yeah, well, you like everyone, so that isn’t saying much.”

“No, I tolerate everyone. You, I actually like.”

Iwake up feeling like I’m both suffocating and incredibly turned on—neither is a normal morning occurrence for me. Opening my eyes, I find my face pressed into Colt’s bare chest. One of my legs is wrapped over his hip, and my center is right up against the hot, hard cock he’s pressing into me. The slow drag of him along my clit has my eyes rolling back in my head, but when I tilt my head back to ask him what he’s doing in my bed, not to mention why he’s dry humping me in my sleep, I realize that he’s still asleep.

Shit, did I wrap myself around him and start this?Ewww, I am such a creep.One who clearly needs to take care of some business that obviously wasn’t taken care of last night.

Despite my many attempts to convince him we should have sex, Colt was resolute that we were “only making good decisions.” Which makes me wonder if that means that sex with me is a bad decision? Or if it’s just drunk sex that would be a bad decision?

I try to lift my leg off him and roll onto my back as discreetly as possible, so maybe I can hop in the shower without waking him. My mouth is dry, my head has a dull ache, and I might be sweating out tequila at this point. Still, I don’t feelthatbad—nothing like last time. And I didn’t do anything crazy like go and marry some asshole hockey player. Wait...I hold out my left hand and look at my ring finger just to make sure, and sure enough, there’s a five-carat ring sitting there. At least I know why this time.

Next to me, I hear Colt chuckle. “Did you forget you were wearing that?”

I glance over at him. “Yeah. I had had this moment where I was like ‘at least I didn’t get married,’ and then I saw the ring and...you know...”

“I promised I’d take good take care of you.” His voice has a small undercurrent of hurt, like he thinks I didn’t trust him.

“I know, and you did. It’s just...” I pause, and he waits patiently for me to tell him what it is. “...I’m used to being the one who’s in control of my decision-making. I like feeling strong and safe, and knowing that it’s because of me and not because I’m relying on someone else.”

“Sometimes, strength is knowing when to let other people help you. You don’t have to do everything yourself, Jules.”

---