He raised his eyebrows. “What? Can’t I use the bathroom?”
“Then use it.” My voice was so muffled thanks to the fact I had my jaw clamped in place. “Excuse me.”
“Hey.” He put his arm out to stop me walking past. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I peered up at him. “My womb is trying to kill me from the inside out, tampons are hideously expensive, and you’ve got an attitude.”
“You’re the one with the attitude.”
“My womb is trying to kill me,” I repeated. “I’m allowed an attitude. What’s your excuse, other than being a raging pain in my ass?”
“Tori.”
“What, Colton? What do you want?”
He sighed, dropping his arm. “I just wanted to apologize for Friday night. You’re right.”
I blinked.
Did he just say I was right?
“I’m listening.” I folded my arms across my chest.
“I thought that would do it,” he said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Why did I want to kiss him?
Ugh.
He stepped closer and leaned in, lowering his voice. “You’re right. It’s just sex. You don’t owe me anything. You can date who you want, whenever you want.”
I swallowed. Even though I knew it was true, I still didn’t like to hear him say ‘it’s just sex.’ “Well, thank you. And I’m… sorry… I yelled at you.”
“That really hurt you to do that, didn’t it?”
“Yes. Killed me a little bit.”
His smile was impish and playful, the kind of smile I rarely saw grace his lips. “Only a little bit?”
“Can we move on?”
He laughed. “Just do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Let me know if you find a guy you like.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m gonna need to find another fuck buddy.”
I stared at him. “Really?”
“Really. I’m gonna need to replace you, aren’t I?”
Snorting, I stepped back. “You can try. I’m irreplaceable.”
“I know.” His voice was softer that time, and the impish smile had fallen to a softer, gentler one that was reflected in the cloudiness of his eyes.
And those words… “I know.” They felt like they carried a lot more weight than usual. It wasn’t a cocky agreement or a playful one.
It was… almost an admission.
Of what, I didn’t know. But I did know that it made my heart thump a little too hard for my liking.
Colton held my gaze for a little too long before he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Should probably get a move on before one of them sends a search party.”
“Right. Yeah.” I smiled then turned away, my stomach fluttering in the most annoying kind of way.
What on Earth had he meant by that “I know?”
CHAPTER SEVEN – COLTON
rule seven: keep your sister the hell away from it. at all times.
and your grandparents.
I handed the chicken to Grandpa, and he nestled it on his lap.
At least they told me it was a chicken.
Honestly, it looked like a white ball of fluff to me. It was the least chicken-looking chicken I’d ever seen in my life, and it also looked like the most useless chicken in the world.
“Are you sure that’s a chicken?”
Grandpa hugged her close. “It’s my Meryl.”
“Meryl. Its name is… Meryl.”
“Yes. Meryl Cheep.”
Meryl Cheep.
Right.
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” I said honestly, looking out at the chickens that were pecking and scratching away at the lawn. A giant one with feathered feet that made it look like it was wearing pants passed by. “What’s that one?”
“Hennifer Lopez.”
“Sure. Sure.”
“And that’s Mary Poopins!”
This was getting out of fucking control.
Mary fucking Poopins.
They needed an intervention in this place.
“Do you need anything, Grandpa? I’m going inside to get a coffee.”
“Ooh, a cup of tea.” He grinned up at me. “And some corn for Meryl.”
“Okay.” I backed up and headed inside the building. I had no idea where I was going to find corn for Meryl, so I went to make the hot drinks in the hope I’d cross someone who could find it.
Instead of finding that person, I found Tori.
“Grandma, I don’t know how you expect me to carry that darn bag in here. It’s 20 kilos! I had to ask the guy at the store to get it in my car. Why couldn’t I just get the little bag?”
“The little bag doesn’t last long here,” Agatha answered, calmly cross-stitching something that looked scarily like the word ‘fuck.’ “Between the ducks and the chickens, the little bags are useless.”
“I cannot pick up that bag,” Tori said slowly, over pronouncing every word. “You will have to get someone to help me.”
“Who can help you here, dear? We’re all old, and the nurses are busy.”
“Then next time, you can get your own corn.”
Corn?
“Need a hand?”
Tori’s head jerked up and she looked at me. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I don’t believe I told you.” I smirked. “Want me to get the bag for you?”
Sighing, she shook her keys and walked past me, heading for the door. “I suppose you’ll have to.”