Page 86 of Overtime
“Your birthday is still the password on my phone. That’s why I wouldn’t tell you. That and the fact I still have pictures of us on it…”
“What?”
“You heard me. I compare every fucking woman I date to you and none of them measure up. You ruined me for anyone else, honestly. There’s no one who comes close. So I’ll take you in this universe or any other that you’ll have me.”
He kisses me, and I’m lost in it for several minutes. Imaging this world where Colton St. George has been in love with me. All the while, I stared at him on TV and on magazine covers. Heard from our friends how well he was doing in the pros. How he was taking the whole league by storm with Ben and Tobias’s help. But somehow was secretly missing me. That doesn’t seem like it should be possible.
“Wait… but you built a whole house for a future with a wife and kids and all the things. You skipped straight over the bachelor’s pad to this… This monument to everything you should want.”
“I told you. I accepted you weren’t going to love me back, and I tried to figure out what I wanted if I couldn’t have you.”
“And?”
“I thought I wanted the perky future PTA mom. I tried. Fuck,I really tried. Would have made my mom so happy. Could have at least made one of them proud of me for doing what they wanted. But it just didn’t work.”
“Why not? Seems like you would have had plenty of options to choose from.”
“I did. But you haunted a house you’d never even lived in. You were there in the shower, naked and telling me to fuck you. You were in the kitchen replating food you ordered and pretending you made it for me while I played along. On the couch explaining to me why The Crow should never be remade and ranting about the inferiority of most remakes. And Christ, all your rants live rent-free in my head. How the hell am I supposed to fall for anyone else when you’re always there? It’s impossible.”
FORTY-SIX
Colt
“I can cook a few things!”She’s deflecting again, talking about something else because she doesn’t want to face facts.
“Yeah. I’m sure you can. So you’re in love with me?”
“Yes, I’m in love with you.” She looks so wide-eyed and vulnerable right now like she could just shatter into a million pieces.
“But you’re still looking for flights?”
“I mean… I was.”
“Do you need to get back on the road?”
“I don’t exactly have to. I should. But I don’t need to leave immediately. If you want me to stay until you’re back to playing again, I can do that.”
“That is not what I’m asking, and you know it. I asked you if you’d marry me.”
“I thought we established that wasn’t serious.”
“I’m dead-fucking-serious.” I shouldn’t take this approach with her. I’m cornering her—hard and there’s a high likelihood she’ll bolt from the pressure.
“Where’s the ring?”
“What?”
“I mean, if you’re asking there should be a ring, right?”
“You need a ring?”
“No, but I need what the ring stands for.”
I hesitate to tell her the whole truth. Because once I do there’s no going back. All my cards will be on the table. She’ll know the extent of how gone I am for her. But she’s come far enough to tell me she’s in love with me. I owe her the same vulnerability in return.
“I bought you a house.”
“What?” She stares at me like I’ve just told her time travel is real.
