Page 5 of Fight for Me
“You do, and you know it. So, let’s pull the stick out and have some fun! Gotta take care of my girl, you know,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.
Lexie frowned, her brows coming together in a deep crease.
As if reading her mind, Colt broke the silence. “Aw, come on, babe. You know I’m just teasing. I love you, stick and all.”
Somehow that didn’t make Lexie feel any better, but there was no arguing with Colt. When he wanted something, he eventually got it. Olivia liked to say he could charm the pants off a nun—and Lexie was sure it wasn’t a compliment.
She sighed, not bothering to hide her exasperation. Colt probably wouldn’t notice anyway.
“I’ll be ready when you get here,” she said, knowing how much he hated to wait. “We’re going to Barclay’s, right?”
“Actually, I was thinking about the Taproom.”
“The Taproom?!” Lexie blurted, her gaze jumping to her reflection. Her turquoise A-line dress was well-suited for an upscale restaurant butnotfor a college dive bar with a live band. “You told me we were going to dinner! I’m dressed for a sit-down meal.”
“Well, change then. The band tonight is a solid nine, and I’ve invited some of the guys. Maybe wear that purple number from my birthday party?”
Lexie bit back a groan and rubbed her fingertips against her temples. She was not in the mood for loud music and “some of the guys.” That inevitably meant pints of beer and shots of whiskey and exaggerated stories about the “good old days” when Colt and his fraternity brothers had still been tearing up the county.
Not that they didn’t still tear up the county, but at least now they had to pretend to be upstanding businessmen during daylight hours.
“Look, babe, don’t make it a big deal,” Colt admonished, his voice changing slightly. It was a reminder that he’d made a decision and her only job was to comply.
Like always.
“Alright,” Lexie said, caving.
Like always.
“Great. I’m ten minutes out, and I want to find a blonde bombshell when I get there!” he said cheerfully, and then he hung up.
Lexie’s phone changed back to her lock screen and its photo of the two of them in the ornate lobby of the Peabody Hotel. That had been early in their relationship, back when she still thought she had a say in anything. Those were truly the “good old days.” She sighed again and headed down the hallway toward her bedroom, unzipping the back of her dress as she went. She was going to have to hurry if she only had ten minutes.
She found the purple cocktail dress near the back of her closet, hidden with the other outfits she tried to avoid. Not that it wasn’t beautiful—the shimmering violet fabric caught the light in a thousand ways as she pulled it off the hanger—but it certainly wasn’t her style. It had been a birthday present from Colt. He’dhung it over a dressing room door, instructed her to “show it off,” and then swiped his credit card at the register—all while ignoring her feeble protests.
Lexie stepped into the slick material, working hard not to tangle the thin straps that crisscrossed the back like shoelaces. It was harder than it sounded, and she had only just smoothed the cold fabric over her hips when she heard a knock at the door.
“I’m coming!” she shouted, adjusting the straps along her collarbone one more time and twisting to see her back in the mirror. The dress dipped low along her spine, and she was suddenly thankful she’d been using tanning lotion in the shower. She shifted, trying to pull the fabric higher, but it jumped stubbornly back into place.
The knock came again, more insistent this time. Lexie quickly grabbed a pair of silver stilettos, but then paused. If Colt wanted to hear a band, then he probably wanted to dance, too. She dropped the strappy sandals and reached instead for a pair with lower heels. Hurrying down the hall, she opened the door to find Colt waiting in pressed black slacks and a light-blue button-down shirt he’d rolled to the elbows. His collar was open, his tie from work probably tossed in the backseat of his BMW next to the sport coat he usually wore when seeing clients.
He let out a long, low whistle when he saw her.
“Give me a spin!” he instructed, reaching for her hand. She did as she was told, and the confidence he exuded filled her like a balloon. But it was short-lived. His sky-blue eyes darkened to cobalt, and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“You’re not going to wear those, are you?” he asked, his eyes locking on the kitten heels that dangled from her hand.
She glanced down at them, the helium already leaking from her chest.
“They’ll be better for dancing. You do want to dance with me, don’t you?” she asked, keeping her eyes as wide as she could. Sometimes the doe-eyed approach could buy her a pass.
“Well, yeah, but not in those,” he said. “Go find something else, the higher the better. I’m the only one of the guys who’s still dating a college girl, and I hate feeling like I’m robbing the cradle.”
He shooed her away like a persistent puppy, and Lexie held in another sigh as she padded back to her room to retrieve the shoes she knew he would like. She could already feel the nails that would stab the balls of her feet by the end of the night.
“Nowthat’swhat I’m talking about!” Colt said, obviously pleased when she returned to the living room four inches taller. “Now, let’s get a move on, or it’ll be standing room only,” he said as she grabbed her clutch from the table. She didn’t bother to mention that she would have been ready sooner if he hadn’t changed their plans.
The Taproom was indeed bursting at the seams by the time they arrived. The man at the door nearly stopped them, but a slick flash of Colt’s black American Express card had them inside in an instant. Lexie was immediately swallowed up by the pulsing beat of “Welcome to the Jungle” as the band on stage did their best Guns N’ Roses impression.
