He shrugs with a warm grin plastered on his face. Not an ounce of embarrassment to be found. “I can’t be a thupahero without the right gear.”
I can’t tell if it’s my heart or my ovaries, but one of them just exploded for sure.
“You bought matching superhero onesies for you and my brother? When? Was I out for a night or a week? How did you get all this done in twenty-four hours?”
“Anything can happen for the right price, baby. And there isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to make things right for you.”
I really wish he wouldn’t say stuff like that.
He stands, legs spread as wide as his grin in a man-sized onesie complete with the attached cape and a Captain America shield in his left hand. He holds something up in his other hand, but I’m thoroughly confused.
“I know you’re ready for a fight, Win, so I brought you some gear, too. Not sure if Thor can beat Captain America, but it comes with a hammer for you to beat on me with.” He smirks, but seems unsure for the first time since I met him.
“You dressed up to … to fight with me?”
“Oh, I don’t want to fight with you, CC. But I will fight for you. You want the truth?”
Gulp.
“Yes. Always.”
“I was kind of hoping gearing up in my thupahero gear might take the edge off your anger. Did it work?”
Hope tugs at my chest, but hope is dangerous, so I force it away.
“It’s not easy to be mad at a sexy man in spandex.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know this is one hundred percent fleece. It’s super soft. Wanna feel?”
My eyes attempt to bug out of my skull, and I shake my head so fast he roars with laughter.
“Colton …”
I’m not sure what I want to say to him, but we have to put an end to this before Wes really gets hurt.
“I know, Win. I know. We need to talk.” He holds up the Thor pajamas that actually look like they might be my size. “Do you want to prepare for battle first?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“This specifically?” He holds up the pajamas again, and my eye roll has him dropping them into the chair beside him. “I’m trying to show you I’m not going anywhere. I want to help you.”
“But why? Why me? Why now? What do you want from me?” My words sound small. I feel weak. Wounded. Broken.
With graceful steps, he crosses the room until he’s standing right in front of me. “What do I want from you, CC?”
An ocean full of tears fills my eyes, but I keep them in check as I nod my chin stubbornly.
“That’s easy, baby. Just you. I’ll only ever ask one thing of you, and if you can do that, I get you. And Weston.”
“Are you insane? You can’t just claim people you don’t know.”
“You keep saying that, but you’ve been embedded in my soul since the day I met you.”
I huff out my disbelief and try to turn from him, but he catches my elbow.
“I haven’t been able to think of anyone but you since the day you left. I promise you that.”
He’s so earnest, I almost believe him. He’s like the sun, though. I can’t look directly at him and still form a coherent thought, so I drop my gaze. I land on a pile of gossip magazines when I do, and I’m instantly reminded that I’m being played here.