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“You do that.” I got out of the truck and headed for the door, hugging my purse against me.

I was going to regret this conversation. I just knew it.

It couldn’t possibly be a good thing.

I stepped aside for Colton to unlock the door. He pushed it open and motioned for me to go first, which I did, and I kicked my shoes off in the hallway.

He followed me inside. “Kitchen or living room?”

I shrugged. “Just talk, Colton. This isn’t Broadway. Don’t make a show out of it.”

He fought back a smile, and his eyes sparkled with something a little brighter than they needed to. “Coffee?”

“Sure.” I followed him into the kitchen where he fixed the coffee, going back and forth across the kitchen to first refill coffee beans, then empty the drip tray, then refill the water tank.

It was a little bit like watching a squirrel tuck its food away for hibernation.

Almost like he was fiddling with it to delay our conversation.

“I could have walked to the café, bought one, and come back by now.” I sat at the island and propped my chin up on my had. “What are you doing over there?”

He glanced over his shoulder at me with a wry smile twisting his lips. “The water was empty.”

“Uh-huh. For someone who wants to talk, you’re not doing a lot of talking.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best not to talk to you when you have access to a hot drink.”

“You’re hilarious. I expect to see you on a Saturday Night Live skit any day.”

“I do try.” He pressed a button on his fancy-ass coffeemaker and it sputtered to life. Within thirty seconds, he was putting a cup in front of me and turning back to get his own.

“Cream?”

“In the fridge.”

“Gosh. Do I have to do everything?” I got up and grabbed it from the fridge.

“Stop being so dramatic. You can do that in a minute.”

“I feel like you’re deliberately dragging this out. Honestly. Get on with it. Unless you have Oreos.”

He side-eyed me for a moment, then reached up into the cabinet above his head and pulled out a packet of the cookies.

Yum.

“Thanks.” I tore the packet open and grabbed one.

“You’re fed and caffeinated. If we can just sort this shit out, I can complete the trifecta of things that make you happy.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I can take a nap?”

“Sure.” His lips twitched. “Not where I was going with it, but sure.”

I knew where he was going with it.

Which made me wonder where he was going with this conversation.

“All right, I’m getting bored now. Start talking.”

Colt leaned against the counter, cradling his mug. “I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen.”

“Not really my strong suit.”

“I know, that’s why I’m pre-warning you that I need you to listen for a moment.”

I sighed dramatically, then waved an Oreo. “I’ll just eat my way through it.”

“If it keeps you quiet, you could ballet dance through it, Victoria.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“No.” He grinned impishly, and I pouted. “You gonna listen?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I tilted my head to the side. “I can’t listen if you aren’t talking.”

He dipped his head for a moment and took a deep breath. His shoulders were taut, and I was genuinely concerned he was going to break the handle of his mug if the whiteness of his knuckles was anything to go by.

Looked like he was holding that sucker tight.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment of silence. “For how I responded to you on Friday when you canceled. You promised London you’d double date with her, and her schedule is tough with Leo. You owed her more than you owed me.”

I swallowed. The truth was that I could have gone on that date and then spent time with Colton, but I wasn’t going to say that right now. He wanted me to listen, so that’s what I was going to do.

He was right. Now that everyone knew about us, we had to clear the air, if only to tell them one way or another where we stood.

“I said some shitty things when I was angry and I shouldn’t have.”

“To be fair, I started that,” I admitted quietly. “You just reacted to me being a bitch when I was upset. I’m sorry, too. I canceled on you late and I don’t know why I said what I did about taking that moron home. It was never going to happen. I was just trying to piss you off.”

“It worked.”

“I guess.”

“You know I wouldn’t have taken Cora home, don’t you?”

I met his gaze. There was an honesty there—a rawness, almost—that told me everything I needed to know.

“I do.” I dropped my attention to my coffee mug and the little bubbles swerving on the surface. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. I hope you know I am.”

I nodded, still staring into the abyss of my coffee.


Tags: Emma Hart The Introvert's Guide Erotic