Page 56 of One Little Kiss
“You’re so full of shit, Colton. I’ve seen the pictures. The articles. You may remember me, but I’ve been the furthest thing from your mind.” Reaching down, I grab a handful of glossy magazine covers, lift them, and smash them into his chest.
He reacts as quickly as I do and catches my wrist in his grasp, holding it tightly to his chest as the magazines flutter to the floor. The dominating tone is back when he speaks, and I shiver while silently cursing myself.
“I will only ever ask one thing of you, Winnie. The only thing I want from you.”
“What’s that?” I ask, full of insolent aggression.
“Your trust. Your trust in me. The image those photographs portray is not me. It’s not true. I’m not a Lost Boy, unwilling to grow up. I’m just a man who was waiting for the one worth changing for. I’m just a man who’s been waiting for you.”
He must see the disbelief in my eyes, even as my heart pinches with the need to believe him, because he releases me and walks away. I open my mouth to protest, hating the sudden distance, but he stops a few feet behind me. When I turn, he’s staring up at the package on the mantel.
“This might scare the shit out of you.” He chuckles.
Of all the emotions this man drags out of me, somehow, I know fear is nowhere near registering for me.
Colton reaches up and carefully pulls down the covered package with great care. I’m shocked he can move it so easily. He sets it on the floor with a thunk, and I know it must be heavy. Then he takes half a step back. It has to be five feet tall and almost as wide.
“You, Winnie Darling, are the only one who’s been on my mind.” He leans forward and pulls the sheet away.
My knees buckle, and I slowly lower to the sofa. My gaze is unblinking. Shocked. Amazed. Confused. My mouth opens, but no words come out as I stare at a portrait of me in a white, gauzy gown. My hair cascades over my right shoulder as I peer down over the left. A shadow covers my body in the portrait, and the more I stare at it, the more I recognize it as the shadow of a man. It has a very distinct Peter Pan vibe, with a unique twist. A stranger may not make the connection, but once I see it, there’s no unseeing it.
Whoever did this created a fairytale version of me as Wendy, with Colton’s Peter Pan shadow watching over me.
“Who? When? How did you do this?” I gasp after an eternity.
To Colton’s credit, he stands back and gives me time to take it all in. Noticing something in the corner of the portrait, I stand to get a closer inspection. There’s an outline of an airplane in the background. Without thinking, I reach out and run my finger over it. Wendalyn is faded, almost as if the artist wasn’t sure if they should include it or not, on the body of the plane.
Colton’s warm breath caresses my hair as he speaks. He’s so close I can feel his heat.
“I couldn’t let you go, CC. I needed something to remind me you were real. Halton made this for me.”
“He’s incredibly talented.”
“He is. Turn around, Winnie.”
My spine tingles at his command, but I have an overwhelming urge to obey. Slowly, I turn in place. He makes no move to give me space, so I’m cocooned between him and the portrait.
“I know this has been a giant clusterfuck, but I see you. I feel you. We can take this as slow as you need, but I have never wanted anything more in my entire life than I want your trust.”
He could have asked for a million dollars and that would have been easier than what he’s asking for. Trust? I don’t think I can.
“I don’t think I know how to trust anyone anymore, Colton. You could ask me to harness the moon and it might be easier.”
Sadness washes over his face as tears glisten in his honey-colored irises. So sweet. So clear. And seemingly so honest. I’m not sure I’ve ever faced a more open expression in all my life, and he sucks the air straight from my lungs.
“Everyone needs a rock, Winnie. Someone to trust. A partner in this cruel world. All I’m asking for is a chance to be that for you. A chance to teach you to trust in me. We have a world of insecurities and realities to face, starting with getting Weston the help he needs, and I want to do all of it with you. Figure it all out, with you, for you, because of you.”
“Wes, he’s—”
Colton places a finger over my lips to silence me. “Emory spoke to Dr. Welch. Before you set that fire in your eyes free, she didn’t speak to him specifically about Wes. She said that would be a breach of patient confidentiality or some bullshit. But she spoke in generalities and found out the best center for testing is just outside of Boston. The Claymar Center. Weston has an appointment next month.”
“Next month?” I gasp. I know about the Claymar Center. I’ve been saving, but there’s no way I can have the money in four weeks. My body shakes, and he once again steps into my space.
“It’s all taken care of, CC. I’m taking you there myself. I’m paying for it. We’re going to figure this out.”
It’s too much. It’s all too much, as he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close. His body envelopes mine as he comforts me. Tears turn to sobs, yet he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he holds me tighter.
“You can’t do this stuff, Colton. You just can’t. I have to take care of it. I have to do it for Wes. For my mom.”
