Charade
Page 7He shakes his head and rubs his left hand up and down his opposite arm. The tattooed one.
Then, he does the strangest thing. Colt grins. I’m sure it’s fake and it’s probably the one he uses to get girls into bed, but it’s so out of place here that I can’t help but study it.
“Then come on, sweetheart. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure my girl got to her room okay?”
~CHAPTER EIGHT~
Colt
I feel like such a prick, which isn’t usually something I let myself worry about. There’s way more important things to think about than hurting someone’s delicate sensibilities, but when this girl admitted what she did about her mom—and I reacted like I always do—I felt like shit.
Still feel like shit.
But I still can’t believe I’m doing this. It pisses me off I have to do this. That after Mom’s spent her life trying to take care of everyone, she has to die and still worry about how she’ll pay the rent.
And here I am practically selling myself by calling a truce with this girl and pretending to be her guy. I let out a small laugh.
“What?” she asks.
“I was just thinking this is one fucked up game of charades we’re playing.”
She ignores that, but says, “Who’s Deena? I can’t do this if you’re with someone.”
“I’m not. In case you didn’t notice, I’m not really the boyfriend type. We’ve hooked up. We hook up when we want to, but neither of us wants anything serious. There are no attachments.”
“Is she going to be a problem?”
I shake my head even though she’s not looking at me. “No, but I’ll tell her what’s up—”
“No! You can’t tell anyone—”
“That I’m selling myself to you?”
“Ugh. You’re not. It’s not real. It’s not like anything is really going to happen between us.” She says it with a sneer.
“Believe me. I don’t want you either. You’re too damn high maintenance.”
“I am not!”
“And I’m not going there with you. I’m tired, pissed off and done fighting. Let’s just get you inside so I can go.” It’s going to be a long ass two weeks.
“Fine. Whatever.”
We get up to her building and I open the door for her. She cocks her head at me, but then shakes it off. “What? Think I’m a fucking Neanderthal who doesn’t know how to treat a girl?”
“No. Neanderthal’s have better mouths than you do.”
A laugh jumps out of my mouth, surprising me. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed and it puts me on edge. I suddenly want to do the same thing to her. Let her see how it feels to teeter on that cliff.
I turn and face her, taking steps toward Cheyenne instead of the door. She backs up and I move forward. When she hits the wall, I keep going. Each of my hands are on the wall, one on each side of her head. She sucks in a quick breath and I falter a little, before catching myself. Closer…I lean closer until my lips are right next to her ear. She smells a little like alcohol, but also like some kind of perfume too.
She gasps and I suddenly want to make good on my threat. I want to suck the lobe of her ear into my mouth. Kiss the spot behind it to see if it drives her wild.
“Colt…”
“Yeah,” I inhale. Damn, she’s kind of sexy. I feel her body against mine and I want more.
“If you don’t step away from me right now, your mouth will be the only thing left you have to make girls feel good with.”
Her words snap me out of whatever trance I was in. No, I’m not going to go there with this girl, but I am going to have fun with her. “Why? Are you scared you won’t be able to keep your hands off me? Might want this to be a little more than a game?”
I feel her breath against my face. My dick reacts to how close she is, but I’m still not moving away.
“Does this usually work on girls?” Her voice is raspier than it was earlier.
“It’s working now.”
She makes almost a squealing noise and I know I’ve got her. She wants me—Cheyenne pushes me out of the way, catching me off guard. Turning she pukes all over the floor.
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. How the hell is it a girl can seem fine one minute and she’s puking the next. “Can you walk?”
Cheyenne looks at me from her bent over position, rolls her eyes and says, “Of course I can walk.” She stands and straightens her clothes. I have to give it to her for trying, but she makes it two steps before she’s grabbing the wall.
I should walk out. I don’t have time for this and more importantly I don’t want to deal with it, but instead I step up to her. “Put your arms around my neck and don’t argue or I’m gone.”
She does as I say and I lift her in my arms. We walk inside and don’t make it very far before a girl shrieks.
“You’re going to get in trouble for being here. You’re lucky they’re not at the desk.”
Sure enough there’s a big ass desk sitting there. Fuck. I forgot about all the dorm rules.
“There’s no way I can help her upstairs? She likes me to help her get undressed,” I tease.
“Asshole,” Princess mumbles.
The other girl giggles.
“There’s nothing I can do?”
“I’m okay, I can make it,” Princess says.
The girl standing there jumps in, “I’ll help her,” but she’s looking at me the whole time.
I nod at her and wink. Seeing a pad of paper on the desk I grab a piece and a pen.
I start to write her name, but scratch it out. If I’m going to play this game, I’m going to do it right.
Babe,
Call me.
I leave my number below my name. I shove the paper in her hand. I stand there watching while the girl helps Cheyenne down the hall. I watch till they’re gone.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
***
The house is packed when I get home. I think about partying, but I’m beat. I find Deena, peel her off me and tell her I’m with someone now. She laughs because she knows I don’t do the dating thing, but I leave it at that. I did my part.
I’m in bed about an hour when my cell rings. I don’t know the number, but I pick it up anyway. “Yeah?”
“Hey…”
It’s Cheyenne.
“Is getting phone calls all through the night part of this gig?”
She sounds half asleep and again I feel like a dick for being an ass.
“Thanks…I just wanted to say thanks. For everything. And for making sure someone helped me get inside.”
Her words shock the hell out of me. Does this pseudo-princess really feel like she’s always going to get ditched? That she has to cling to this image to make herself worth something? It’s screwed up.
But I don’t care, either. I don’t even like the girl. I have this stupid, fucking promise I made bearing down on me and a mom who’s dying. That’s what’s important.
“It’s gonna cost you extra.”
I don’t even know if she heard me because the line is dead.
~CHAPTER NINE~
Cheyenne
I feel like shit. It’s crazy how you can drink and think you’re okay until you’re suddenly not okay. When Colt got close, I suddenly wasn’t okay anymore.
All those sinewy muscles up close and personal and tribal tattoos right there for me to dissect. The roughness of his voice. In all the times I got hot and heavy with Gregory he never sounded like that and with Colt, we weren’t even doing anything. I remember Mom telling me there’s something in a man’s voice…in the inflection or how he talks to you or about you that says a lot. I never thought about it until now and I can’t help but wonder what Colt’s voice meant.
Besides the fact that he was turned on. Yeah, I felt that too, right before I lost it.
I get out of bed and brush my teeth. No point lying around all day going over something that doesn’t matter.
Because it doesn’t.
Matter, I mean.
Just to prove it I pick up my phone and call him using the number on the paper he gave me. I have no idea how early his classes are, but mine start soon and if he’s going to do this, I need him to do it all the way.
“What?” His voice is even gruffer than it was last night.
“That’s no way to talk to the love of your life.”
Hang up on him? Oh shit. I did call him last night. I can’t believe I forgot that. Why did I do that?
“Tick tock,” he says like he did the first day we met. I’m about to call him on being an asshole again, but I don’t have the time right now.
“What time are your classes? I need you to meet me at 10:40. Gregory and Red are in that class so it would be nice if you picked me up.”
“Would it?” He sounds out of breath.
“What are you doing? Why do you sound like that?”
There’s a pause on the other side of the line before he says… “Did you ever think you caught me in the middle of something? You know how guys are in the morning, and I did get left high and dry last—”
“Colt! Oh my God. You’re disgusting. I swear you’re the crudest person I ever met.” I’m trying to yell over his laugher. It’s the first time I’ve heard him really let go.
“You asked.” He says no apologies. I’m sure he’s lying. Pretty sure. He has to be, right?
“I hate you.”
“Right back at ya. So where do you need me to parade around and show you off? I have other stuff to do today.”
I tell him which class I’m in and he agrees to meet me.
Long after we hang up, I still have his rough voice in my mind. Even a few pictures of him doing exactly what he said he was doing. Which makes for a nice image, but one I need to find a way to kick out of my mind.
After running down the hall to shower, I get dressed in a skirt, tank, and another shirt over it that hangs off my shoulder. I leave my hair down, throw on a pair of wedges to give me height and head to class.
No, it’s not the best outfit to wear to school, but it works.
The second I walk into the large, oval shaped room, I see Gregory. He stares me down, his eyes narrowed. I give him my best smile. Gregory takes a step toward me when the professor walks in and starts talking.
I feel his eyes on my back the whole class. Take that, Gregory. This is what you get for throwing me away.
“I’m not the first one to think so either.” I try to block out his words.
As soon as class ends, I head toward the door.
“Chey! Wait up!” Gregory shouts from behind me, but I keep going. Colt better be outside this door right now.
Better. Be.
“I don’t have time, Gregory,” I say over my shoulder. Stepping into the busy hallway, I look around. Of course. Colt isn’t here.
“Chey.” He grabs my wrist. “I just want to talk.”
Red has her arms crossed, but she’s standing a few feet away from us. Part of me wants to gloat, but I’m too annoyed.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have the right to grab me.” I’ve been grabbed against my will before and I’m not about to let it happen again. I jerk my hand away.
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’m worried about you, Cheyenne. That guy? He’s unstable. He seriously attacked us when we were out one night. You’re not being yourself and I want to make sure everything’s okay.”