“You and me both, girl,” Milo says. “I haven’t seen them for a few years but they were bitches then, and clearly bitches now.”
The girls have hardly sat down before Colton appears at the entrance of the church. The room falls silent and it’s as though he’s walking toward his throne, but I guess he kind of is. This is the official goodbye of Charles Carrington and the new reign of the Carrington heir.
Just as I knew they would be, all eyes are on him.
Colton stands tall, wearing the exact suit I had picked out for him last night, right down to the dress shirt and cufflinks. I can’t help but feel that this is some sort of message to me, maybe an apology of some sort but then there’s also a good chance that he has no recollection of the bullshit from last night. He could have rolled out of bed at the last minute as assumed one of the maids had laid it out for him. I shouldn’t think about it as it’s only going to mess with my head.
As he walks through the church, he stops and shakes hands with older men who look as though they wipe their asses with hundred dollar bills. He says a polite hello and thanks them for coming before moving on to the next person who’s waiting to feel him out and see if he’ll crack under the pressure.
I can’t help but feel that maybe something I said to him last night resonated within him as this man I’m seeing before me is not the mess I found last night. This isn’t the teenage boy who just had the world dropped on his shoulders, this is a man. A real fucking man. The kind of man who dominates during the day and has you screaming for more at night.
This is the kind of man who has me wanting a future that isn’t mine to want.
Colton rids himself of the men who are busy feeling him out and subtly shakes off the young, gold-digging women who offer him their condolences by draping themselves over him and giving him a good feel of what they have on offer, you know, as they’re saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
He breaks free and starts making his way down the aisle but not before his eyes come to mine.
They’re dark and intense, certainly not the protective hazel ones that I’ve come to know. A silent message passes between us and I see his pain. He wants me there by his side but there’s no way in hell he’s about to come out and ask for it and with this crowd, I’d be a fool to go for it. There’s regret in his eyes and I wonder if it’s from the hell he put me through last night but this is his father’s funeral and it’d be selfish of me to assume his pain is for me.
I need to pull my shit together.
I tear my gaze away and Colton continues to the front of the aisle. He walks right up to the open casket and peers in. Every person in the church watches him. Even his sisters tear their attention away from their phones for a brief second to look up at their older brother.
The priest approaches Colton and they shake hands as I focus on keeping my ass firmly in my seat. Do not go up there, Ocean. You’re only going to make a fool of yourself.
I watch as they discuss whatever the hell needs discussing while unable to tear my eyes away from him. “Jesus,” Milo grumbles beside me. “Don’t make it so obvious that you’re into him.”
I turn my glare on Milo. “First of all, I don’t think you’re supposed to use that word in a church unless you’re singing about how much you love him.”
“Honey, the fact that I haven’t spontaneously combusted and burned to a crisp yet is already a miracle, don’t push your luck, but go on.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring his comments. “Secondly, I’m not into Colton. He’s an ass. After the bullshit he’s been putting me through, it’d be a damn miracle if he ever got close to me again. I’m just curious. I’ve never been to a big funeral like this.”
“For the record, if I can’t say ‘Jesus’ in a church then you can’t say ‘damn,’” he tells me before dropping his arm from over my shoulder and slouching into the pew as though he’s already bored. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a shitty liar? I could see your little lovesick puppy dog eyes from a mile away. You’re more than just into him.”
I nudge my elbow into his ribs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, well, here’s trouble,” a voice says, hovering in the aisle beside the pew.