Page 29 of No Apologies
It was a look she’d never seen on his handsome face before. He was always confident, always cocky. Colt was a fighter. He didn’t do fear and she hated seeing it there. Hated that she might be the thing that had put it there.
Was he afraid she was going to fight with him again? That she’d push him to admit something he clearly wasn’t ready to admit? Or was he scared that she’d finally given up on him? That he’d finally pushed her past the point of no return?
She wasn’t sure which thought broke her heart more. That he refused to admit what was so obvious to her or that he might think she would ever give up on him. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. They were both fighters and when he pushed, she couldn’t help but push back. It had been that way since the moment she befriended the sexy bastard.
For every step they took forward, he pushed her two back but it was moments like this, when he opened up to her, that she knew it was all worth it. He’d apologized to her for God’s sake! That had to mean something. He cared enough about her to do something he’d sworn he would never do, apologize.
“Hey.” He finally spoke and his voice was husky, sending chills down her spine.
“Hey.”
He slowly took a step towards her and she fought the urge to cover the space between them. He was still black and blue, a phrase that she’d never given much thought until she became friends with Colt Bomar. His eyes were so vivid, the bright, clear blue of a summer sky, that the bruises beneath his eyes only looked darker. God help her but she’d always thought he might be the only man alive that managed to look even sexier bruised.
His sandy hair was spiked haphazardly, as though he’d been running his hands through it. He was due for another haircut but she didn’t dare remind him of it right now. Besides, she liked it like this with the sides shaved short and the top longer. He’d let her do whatever she wanted with his hair since she started cutting it, a level of trust he’d given her because she trusted him with her skin. He’d even let her put a flash of electric blue on the ends a few months ago but that had washed out now and it was all him again, just the way she liked it.
His hair, the tattoos that covered both of his arms and most of his chest, it was all meant to differentiate him from his twin. She knew that. According to their DNA, he and Cash were identical and there was no denying that they did resemble.
They were both built like tanks. Over six feet of solid muscle and broad shoulders, they made other men look scrawny in comparison. They both had the Bomar bone structure complete with square jaws, dimpled chins and smiles that flashed boyish dimples on the rare occasion they weren’t scowling.
But she’d always been able to tell them apart. Her body, for one, had never reacted to Cash. Not once. That would have been super awkward with Jemma being her best friend so thank God for that. Her heart didn’t race at the mere sight of Cash and having him close didn’t make that pinch of longing squeeze in her chest and need flood her veins. That had only ever happened for Colt.
She didn’t need the edgy, constantly changing haircuts to tell her which one was Colt. Just like she didn’t need to see the full sleeve tattoos that covered both of his arms, the ones featuring dark, dangerous looking images that fascinated her. But damn she liked the way Colt expressed himself with his ink and hair, her two favorite mediums.
He was so perfect for her.
“I uh… didn’t know if you were home.” He motioned to the paper in her hand and she smiled softly.
“You could have knocked.”
“Didn’t want to disturb you.” His eyes trailed over her, top to bottom, and he stopped a few feet away, “You headed out?”
She fought a flush at his lingering look, “Yeah.”
“It’s Sunday. Dinner with the parents, right?”
She smiled. This was a new version of him. Apologetic Colt.
She never knew what she was going to get with him. His moods were ever-changing and kept her guessing so she’d made cataloguing them a hobby. Yesterday it had been Bastard Colt. The night before she’d gotten a glimpse of Sweet Colt. There was also: Pensive Colt, Passive Aggressive Colt, Kind Colt, Sarcastic Colt, Crude Colt and Funny Colt just to name a few.
He had a hundred moods and she wanted them all. But this one today was new. And it was one she’d been waiting a long time to see.
“You remembered.”
“Yeah, you look…” He trailed off and she laughed.
“Prim and proper? I know, but I’ve told you how my parents are about the tattoos. It’s easier to keep them covered when I’m at their house.”
Colt’s lips twitched into a frown, “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are.”
“No, I shouldn’t, but they’re my parents.” She shrugged and he stared at the ground again.
She mentally kicked herself. Talking family and parents with Colt was never a good idea. It only made them both think about how different they were, about how their upbringings had been night and day. Sure she had issues with her parents. What twenty-three year old didn’t? But they cared enough to have dinner with her and Colt’s never had or would.
“I’m running late so I should get going.”
“Yeah, I was…” Colt glanced back up, their gazes colliding again, “I was going to say you look beautiful.”
Her heart instantly leapt, “Oh! Thank you.”
