9. Ella

9

ELLA

T he second our eyes lock, it’s like time is wound back and I’m a twenty-year-old college student staring into the dark gray eyes of a man I want the attention of more than I want anything else in my life.

Colton Rogers has always been this larger-than-life enigma that I’ve always wanted to learn more about.

And in the seconds that follow as no one dares take a breath, it becomes abundantly clear that that hasn’t changed.

Years might have passed; we might be entirely different people, but I still want to do whatever I can to peel back his armor and finally discover what really makes him tick other than his two favorite things: football and fucking.

Finally, he breaks the silence and shatters the tension pressing in around us.

“Ella,” he breathes. “It’s so good to see you.”

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, my drink discarded and my cell forgotten as I step forward. That tether I’ve always felt toward him pulls tight until I’m close enough that his freshly showered scent fills my nose and his sheer size overwhelms me in the best possible way.

As if he knows my intentions, his arms open and I step into his warm, solid chest before they wrap around me.

With him obliterating every single one of my senses, it takes everything in me to hold back my emotions. All I want to do is cling to him and sob. The familiarity of his scent, the security of his arms. The fondness with which I remember most of our time together, makes me want to latch onto him and never let go.

It’s unhealthy, I know that. But then this thing between us always has been. Why change things now just because we’re adults?

“You too,” I manage to force out, praying that he can’t hear the cracks in my voice.

“Hey,” he says, tucking his finger beneath my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I say, taking a big step back and ducking my head. I don’t lose his touch, though. The warmth of his giant hands stays on my upper arms.

I’m aware that the others are all watching us, and the last thing I want to do right now is break down.

Today has been…intense in some of the best ways, and I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to cry anymore. I just want to surround myself with my best friends and forget that anything else exists in the world. I want to celebrate the guys’ win and laugh like we used to.

I want to be the Ella I used to be. I want to find the happiness and the confidence I used to have. And being around them, despite how I look, how beaten down I am right now, I’m able to feel little sparks of hope that she’s still there.

“Steaks are ready. Who’s hungry?” Kane asks, shattering the moment.

Colt finally lets my arms drop, allowing coldness to rush in.

“Starving,” he growls, making Letty and Peyton laugh.

“There’s a surprise. I swear you three could eat an entire cow given the chance.”

“I’d give it a good go,” Colt says, pressing his hand into the small of my back to lead me back to the couch I was sitting on. Only this time when my ass hits the cushion, I quickly discover that I’m no longer on it alone because he lowers down right beside me, the warmth of his body seeping into mine.

Needing something to ground me, I reach for my drink and down what’s left of the potent margarita Peyton made us when we got back.

It’s my third…I think. Possibly my fourth. And probably the reason that I hugged Colt the second I saw him.

My cheeks burn up as I think about my actions.

Jesus, Ella. You’re so embarrassing.

“Another?” Peyton asks, appearing out of nowhere with a jug.

“Umm…”

“Of course. We’re celebrating. We’re living vicariously through you right now,” Colt winks, answering for me.

Peyton studies me for a second before I nod in agreement.

“Just like old times, huh? Colton Rogers trying to get me drunk,” I tease before slamming my lips together. “On second thought, I should probably stick with water.”

Colt chuckles beside me as Kane and Letty appear with plates loaded with food.

My mouth waters as I take a plate, trying to ignore the pull toward the man beside me as I attempt to counteract the alcohol rushing through my veins so that I can keep a straight head.

The conversation turns to tonight’s game and the guys talk through what feels like every second of it, dissecting the Bulls’ mistakes that allowed them the win they deserved before they start looking forward to Sunday’s game against the Chiefs.

“I can’t fucking wait,” Colt says, rubbing his hands together. “It’s been too fucking long since I’ve watched my brother get put on his ass.”

“Fucking same,” Luca agrees. “Although my idiot sibling is out of action with a fucked-up ankle. Maybe next year.”

After one too many cocktails, surprisingly, Peyton is the first one to truly embarrass herself—not that any of us really care—when she pushes her hand inside Luca’s pants and announces to the world that she’s ready to make the celebrations more personal.

Unable to argue with her suggestion, Luca throws her over his shoulder, bids us all farewell and marches from the house with his wife, promising to do all kinds of filthy things to her star quarterback.

It’s cute, and it makes me green with envy.

Chad never once threw me over his shoulder because he needed to get me out of a house so badly he couldn’t wait a second longer.

I don’t realize I have any kind of reaction to that thought until Colt twists toward me, his knee bumping my thigh.

“You okay?” he whispers, sensing that I’m very much not.

“I think we’re going to call it a night too,” Letty says before I get a chance to respond. “Let you guys catch up.”

I look up just in time to catch the mischievous sparkle in her eye.

Shaking my head at her, all she does is raise a brow, smiling in encouragement.

I hate you , I mouth.

“Make yourselves at home.”

“Colt does every time he visits, Princess. He doesn’t need permission,” Kane growls, before grabbing her hand and dragging her away from us.

“Have fun. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Letty calls, sounding more than a little drunk as they vanish into the house.

“And then there were two,” Colt whispers ominously, I swear sliding closer in the process. “So, Bombshell, you were about to tell me what the pained sigh was about.”

Finishing my drink, I place the glass back on the table before making the mistake of turning toward him.

My breath catches when I find the fire I used to love so much burning brightly in his eyes.

“Was I?”

“You were,” he confirms as his arm stretches across the back of the couch, his thumb brushing the back of my neck that I exposed when I twisted my hair up into a messy bun a while ago.

Goosebumps erupt as desire rushes through my veins.

Any other man in the world could touch me and I’d feel nothing. Less than nothing. But just a brush of a thumb from Colton Rogers and I’m a burning ball of need.

It’s ridiculous.

I never stood a chance, did I?

And it doesn’t give me any hope that tonight will be any different.

His eyes bounce between mine before they drop to my lips when I lick the sweetness of my drink away.

Silence falls between us as the tension crackles almost as loudly as the firepit Luca and Kane started a while ago when the coolness of the night set in.

“Talk to me. What’s going on with you that has that sadness in those pretty eyes?”

“Y-you want to t-talk?” I stutter like an idiot.

My chest heaves, the movement capturing his attention and dragging his eyes lower.

I squeeze my eyes closed as shame burns through me. I’m not the woman he used to know. There’s more of me, a lot more, and I doubt a man who trains as hard as he does to keep his body in top condition would be interested in a woman who has more than a few wobbly bits.

“Yeah, maybe you aren’t the only one who’s matured into an adult.”

I scoff at his words, instantly regretting it when his brows shoot up and my cheeks burn bright red.

“Oh?” he asks.

“I see the things written about you in the media, Colton Playboy Rogers.”

“Maybe so,” he soothes, lifting his hand from my neck in favor of tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “But I think you know as well as I do just how exaggerated those stories are. So…it seems you’ve been reading all about me and what I may or may not have been getting up to. But what about you, Bombshell? Last I heard you were in Texas settling down with a cowboy. Yet, here you are, sitting here with me, with my number wrapped around your sexy body and allowing me to touch you in a way I’m sure a certain cowboy would have something to say about.”

Oh god. It takes more effort than I possess, while half wasted and high on his scent, to keep from melting into his body, to feel the deep rumble of his voice beneath my ear as he speaks.

I startle when his knuckles graze my thigh before he lifts my left hand, holding it between us.

His thumb brushes over my finger, noting the absence of a ring. His eyes follow the movement before they find mine, searching, trying to read all the answers he’s so desperate for.

“Th-there’s no cowboy,” I whisper, barely able to force the words out while I’m locked in his intense stare. “I-I left.”

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath.

“Letty invited me for Sunday’s game. For old time’s sake.”

“Yet you’re already here,” he points out.

“So I am,” I muse, finally pulling my hand free.

If I thought his proximity made my brain misfire, then it’s nothing compared to his touch.

“Ella, I?—”

Reaching out, I press my fingers to his lips, fearing what’s going to come next from the tone of his voice.

“Don’t. You have nothing to?—”

His fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping me from retreating.

“I do,” he argues. “I have so many things to apologize for when it comes to you.”

My chin drops, lips forming an O.

“But,” he starts, wrapping his spare hand around my thigh and dragging me closer. “I’m not sure words will be enough to express just how sorry I am.”

I suck in a sharp breath. My heart is racing, my skin is burning, and when he cups my jaw and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, every single nerve ending in my body buzzes with desire.

Heat floods my veins, making my thighs clench and my clit throb in a way I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

It’s like Colt is the only one who knows exactly what buttons to press to get my body burning, but he doesn’t only press them. He fucking obliterates them.

“Colt,” I breathe, summoning up every ounce of self-control I possess.

“Yeah, Bombshell. Anything.”

His eyes flash with something I don’t want to acknowledge right now. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. But then that is Colton Rogers down to a T. He’s thrilling, exciting, and enchanting, but at the same time, he’s dangerous. He holds more power over me than anyone else I’ve ever met because despite not wanting it, he’s the only one who’s ever held my heart in his hands, and if he wants to, he can squeeze the life right of me.

And right now, I don’t think I have the strength to deal with the fallout when he walks away from me again after we’ve had our fun.

Closing my eyes, I break our contact and force out the words I need to say. “We can’t do this.”

His chest decompresses in a rush, his breath washing over my face, making the loose strands of my hair tickle my neck.

“We’re not kids anymore. I can’t just jump into bed with you at the drop of a hat because it’s fun and forget that tomorrow exists. I’m not that girl now.”

“Ella,” he breathes, pressing his brow against mine.

“I’m serious. Fun, party girl Ella has gone. The person left in her place is?—”

“Perfect?” he asks so seriously my eyes pop open.

“No. She’s far from that.”

His hand slides up my thigh until his long fingers wrap around my waist.

I cringe, knowing that he’s not feeling the dip of my waist like he once used to, instead one too many rolls that I’d rather not be there.

His other hand tightens on the side of my neck, holding me in place at his mercy as our breaths mingle.

“Are you willing to give me the chance to prove you wrong?”

I hold his eyes, searching for the joke in his words. He’s never tried to prove anything to me since the day we met. Well, maybe just that he was going to be the best lay I ever had. But my previous experience wasn’t overly exciting, so there wasn’t much to be done in the way of proving himself really.

Other than that, he’s always been unashamedly himself.

Hotshot football player. Shameless playboy. Everyone loves Colt for his easy-going, laid-back attitude. He’s friends with everyone and respected by even more, especially now that almost everyone in the country knows his name.

So why he would feel the need to prove himself to anyone, let alone me, blows my mind.

“Please. I promise to make it worth your while.”

“I don’t know how long I’m here for.”

“Then there’s no time to lose, is there?”