6/22/17

"I DON'T KNOW if I should go tonight," I tell my friends as I run my hands over my periwinkle sundress nervously. We're standing in the kitchen of Grayson's beach house and about to leave for the Hasting's house where they are hosting a party. But my insides feel like a mess of swarming butterflies and my body feels flush at the idea of attending. I haven't spoken to Colt since that morning four days ago and if I'm being honest I haven't felt right since then.

I feel off. I feel confused. I feel lost. Not just lost in what my next steps are in the career world after graduation, but now in my personal life and it confuses and hurts me. The surge of emotions takes me off guard and my hands instantly fist at my sides until my fingernails cut into the palms of my hands. I keep them tight for a beat longer before releasing a pent up sigh and relaxing my hands.

"What are you talking about?" Grayson asks with evident confusion wrinkling her forehead as she slips on her sandals. Her sage green dress looks beautiful on her paired with her long blonde hair and tanned skin.

I shrug as my fingers tap against the waist of my dress. "It just feels like a family thing and you all know them and I don't really..." I trail shifting my weight back and forth between my feet anxiously.

"It's not a family thing," my friend assures me quickly waving my worries aside. But she doesn't know what's really bothering me. She doesn't know what's eating away at me deep down in the pit of my stomach. She doesn't know the real reason I don't want to go to the party tonight because she doesn't know about Colt.

But what is there to tell? Nothing has really even happened between us, and nothing ever will. He's barely a friend of mine at this point if I'm being honest, and even the acknowledgement of that has my heart twisting and my stomach plummeting for reasons I refuse to analyze.

"Yeah, the Hasting's have a massive party to kick off summer every single year and so many other people will be there," Hayley calls out from the other side of the kitchen pulling my attention to her. She is drinking a glass of water and my eyes catch on her soft pink satin slip dress that perfectly brings out the natural blush of her cheeks and the freckles that sit upon them.

Grayson grabs her purse from the counter and tosses it over her shoulder. "Plus I invited Finn," she tells me so casually I almost continue to try and back out tonight before my eyes widen and my mouth falls agape.

Shock causes my cheeks to flame. "You invited Finn?" I ask her, slapping a hand over my face as embarrassment flares within me.

Grayson smiles brightly looking rather proud of herself. "He just happened to mention being off tonight when I was at Abbiocco with Cale the other day," she trails nonchalantly with a lift of her tattooed shoulder.

I narrow my eyes, not believing my friend one bit. "Yeah, sure. Happened," I say with heavy sarcasm dripping from my words. My fingers finally calm their tapping as my hands find their way to my hips.

"Come on that should make you excited," she says with a questioning glare flickering in her ocean blue eyes. "You said you liked him...right?"

"It does! And I do," I rush out a bit too quickly. But it's obvious my heart isn't in my words and I can see the wheels turning as her eyes examine me a touch closer. It's hard to hide my true feelings from my best friends when they have the ability to read me so easily.

The truth is that I do like Finn. He's kind and really cute and he doesn't scare me because in my eyes he doesn't have the ability to hurt me. He doesn't have the ability to get under my skin and sink his way into my soul so deep he would ruin me beyond repair.

He's safe.

But I also don't want to lead him on either.

I run a hand through my auburn waves and swallow the tension that's starting to harden my bones. With another fluttering sigh I shake off all the worry that wants to drown me and just focus on seeing him tonight. I know Finn will bring a smile to my face and just his presence alone will soothe the nerves that tend to tangle within me whenever I know Colt is nearby. He will make tonight fun, and that's what I need.

"Is everything okay?" Hayley asks, stepping closer to me and Grayson.

I nod placing a smile on my lips that I know is convincing because I've used it too many times with them. I hate that I've lied to my best friends so much, but so many fears and insecurities live in the countless cracks of my heart it's almost easier to just keep my guard up at all times. I want to not lie. I want to be a better friend and person.

But I'm stuck between my heart and my head, and it fucking sucks.

"Everything's great," I lie through my teeth. "Ready to go?"

My friends pause looking at me but neither of them say anything as we head out to Grayson's car and climb in. Shame sits on my tongue bitterly and another crack hammers it's way into my heart and it should be painful. It should take my breath away, but it doesn't. I've grown so accustomed to the pain at this point that instead of blindingly sharp pain I feel nothing. I am numb.

And somehow that's even worse.

My lips stay locked shut as we drive and thankfully Hayley puts on some music so none of us feel the need to speak and I'm fine with that. I feel weird. I wish I had another word to explain how the emotions are flooding me at this moment, but I don't. Everything is just weird.

My eyes are glued to the window as Grayson drives us closer to the Hasting's home. And as the seconds begin to pass every house just gets bigger and bigger and even more beautiful and luxurious. The area of Easton we have entered screams money, and it suddenly makes me feel stressed for the night ahead.

I knew the Hasting's had money, but not this kind of money. Though it makes sense considering Mr. Hasting is the CEO of one of the largest construction and engineering companies in the country. My hands find the hem of my dress and play with it suddenly feeling like my dress isn't nice enough, which is stupid. But the insecurities that live deep within me that I thought would be scarred over by now are still just as fresh as they were when I was younger.

I grew up with only my mother, but she made sure I had everything I could ever want. But on the other side of the coin we also didn't have a lot, but I didn't need a lot in life with her by my side anyways. She worked her ass off to give me what she could, and what she could give me was amazing. But I didn't just decide to start taking off my clothes for fun at the end of the day. I did it for the money.

I was lucky enough to be awarded a scholarship to Northwestern, but that doesn't cover living expenses and extras like books and a working laptop. The one I had in high school was beyond ancient and crashed every twenty minutes. My mom would've worked herself to the bone to give me those things if she knew I needed them, but she didn't deserve that. She deserved to not have me weighing her down anymore. So I found a way to support myself, and I'm proud of finding a way to do it. Even if it is still my deepest, darkest secret.

But suddenly being tossed into a world of money fills me with a rush of worry I don't expect.

Grayson slows down and pulls into the circular driveway of a three story brick house with a wraparound porch. It's absolutely stunning and screams old money and southern warmth all at once while being settled by the sea.

More cars than I can count line the street and sit in the driveway alerting me to the fact that the party must already be in full swing. The sun is beginning to dip into the ocean making the sky a warm cotton candy pink.

"Holy shit," I breathe out slowly in astonishment as I climb out of the car and straighten out the skirt of my dress.

"That was my reaction when I first saw it," Hayley confesses to me with an easy chuckle.

"You get used to it," Grayson tells me as we make our way to the front door.

Hayley loops her arm through mine as we move towards the house. "You really don't," she whispers and her teasing helps to ease the sharp edge of nerves that are cutting me up inside.

Grayson opens the door and the smell of delicious food and soft music hits me. We enter the home and walk through the main foyer to see people scattered around everywhere. Servers with platters of horderves weave their way through the crowd and the open bar is handing out drinks left and right.

The entire back side of the house is covered in floor to ceiling windows that have a perfect view of the ocean. The windows are all open and I can see directly into the backyard that has hundreds of little twinkly lights strung up and I notice even another bar is out back by the gated pool.

I pull my attention away from the insanely beautiful home to notice Cale and his older brother Clayton have found us. Grayson instantly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and they kiss and the way he looks at her makes my heart ache for something similar. His hazel eyes glow as if she is the only shooting star in his universe.

Hayley smiles at Clayton but they both keep their hands to themselves. But even with that it's so obvious to see how madly in love they are with each other. He doesn't look anywhere else but her and she blushes every few seconds when their eyes lock as if they are having a conversation only they can understand. I shift my gaze away from them as it begins to feel like an intimate moment that shouldn't be tarnished by lingering stares.

"How are you guys?" Cale asks, keeping an arm wrapped around Grayson's waist. Always keeping her close. Never not touching a part of her when she's near.

"Good," she responds with a flirty smile. "Have you seen Finn?"

"Why? Are you trying to replace me?" Cale teases pinching her side until she giggles.

"Never," she promises him without hesitation. Her baby blue eyes hold him as if she never wants to look anywhere else. Ever.

"She's asking for me. Don't worry Cale," I step in with a playful roll of my eyes.

"He's a good guy," he comments and a smile lifts my lips, liking the fact that Cale speaks highly of Finn. Because I never hear him say anything nice about Colt and that's his own brother. His own blood. I know I shouldn't care. But I do, and I hate myself for it.

"I saw him by the bar not too long ago," Clayton tells me and I now notice the way him and Hayley have inched their way towards each other but are still not touching. I know they are keeping their distance while he's working on himself, but I also know it must be hard to deny the kind of chemistry they have.

I turn to glance towards the open bar and catch myself looking for someone else. Someone taller than Finn. Someone with darker eyes and hair that curls around their ears and a panty dropping smile that pisses me off and draws me in all at the same time. Someone I shouldn't even be giving my attention to but can't stop wanting.

My teeth grit with annoyance before I lock my gaze on soft eyes, curly hair, and dimples that soften the anger within me and bring an honest smile to my lips.

Finn points to the bar and to the drink in his hand, and I nod to let him know he can get me the same. At this point I don't care as long as it has alcohol in it.

"He's so into you," Hayey gushes and my cheeks heat and I know my neck and chest are turning red. I hate how I can never hide my emotions.

My teeth graze my bottom lip not believing her words in the slightest. He's just nice. Finn is the kind of guy who would do anything for anyone. I'm definitely not special.

Before I know it he's on his way towards me so I shoot my friends a hard glare that they just laugh at. "Shut up," I whisper yell at them just as Finn stops beside me and hands me what looks like a pink punch with a lemon slice and sugar on the rim.

"Hey," I say just as a warm smile brightens his face.

The multitude of emotions that were causing havoc inside of me begin to quiet and still. Because as always he calms the storm that Colt has awakened. The storm that threatens to break down my walls and get too close to the armor I've carefully built around my fragile heart.

"How are you?" he asks, keeping his eyes trained on me and it makes me tingle.

"Good," I breathe before taking a sip of the fruity drink. "You?"

"Better now," he responds and the tingles that started in my chest soars throughout the rest of me making the alcohol feel much more potent than it really is.

With Finn now by my side we all talk amongst each other and it's nice and easy and there's no tension or underlined frustration that usually accompanies the group when Colt is around. Finn stays close to me but doesn't touch me, and a part of me is grateful for that. I'm still unsure of what I want out of this budding relationship with him, so keeping our hands to ourselves is a smart move.

But even with drinks flowing, lots of bubbling laughter, and fun music playing in the air I still can't stop myself. I can't stop my attention from lingering on any passing guests and wondering if it's him, and I hate it.

I hate the way my eyes continuously scan the crowd for Colt. I hate the way my heart beats faster in a mix of anticipation and nerves of seeing him. But no matter where my stormy blue eyes flicker I don't see him. He's nowhere to be found I come to realize. He's missing and the idea that he's not around makes my insides twist and ache with a strength that stuns me.

With a stuttering heart and disappointment heavy on my shoulders I excuse myself to the bathroom when in all reality I just need a breather. I need a moment away from everyone, and thankfully everyone is so engrossed in conversation no one questions me stepping away. So without another glance back I wander up the stairs knowing it will be quieter on the second level with no one around.

All the sounds from the floor below become muffled and fade into the background as my feet lead me deeper down the grand hallway when I notice a cracked door. I'm not entirely sure why I gravitate towards the door in the first place, but I do. I glance around to make sure no one is watching me before I make my move. My fingers graze the oversized wooden door before I push lightly against it to reveal a bedroom drenched in the warm setting sun.

I take a few hesitant steps forward knowing I shouldn't be sneaking around, but before I can even think to leave my eyes catch on a wall of sketches. An entire wall of artwork. Artwork that makes the doubt of sneaking around swiftly leave my bones.

Countless amazing sketches of people and places that are so real they take my breath away are plastered to the wall behind the door. My heart beats so loudly I can hear it echo throughout the room as I reach out tentatively to trace the edges of a watercolor painting. There aren't many of them. Mostly everything is very dark and blunt, but the few with color are softer and bring a brilliant smile to my face. They send a bolt of exhilaration through me as I continue to trace the painting with trembling hands.

My fingers then lift from the pages suddenly afraid I'll ruin them and I would never want to wreck these beautifully perfect images. I take a step back and continue to trail my eyes over them when a framed picture on the wall causes me to freeze in place.

It's an image of Colt, but he's young. Very, very young. Thirteen...maybe a bit older? And he's smiling brighter than I've ever seen from him smile before. His hair is lighter almost as if it's been kissed by the sun but it's still longer than any of his brothers keep as it curls around his ears. He's wearing a soccer jersey and cleats and his arm is around another guy's shoulder. He looks carefree and happy. The dark aura that surrounds him now is nonexistent and my heart clenches in pain wondering what happened to dull the sun that shined so brightly back then.

I turn to see a desk covered in art supplies and it all clicks as something close to disbelief fills my entire body not leaving an inch untouched. Colt is an artist? Colt Hasting is an artist? And not just an average one. No, he is incredibly talented and it shocks me that someone so harsh can create something so beautiful and delicate.

A large leather bound book sits at the center of his desk and it instantly grabs my attention and refuses to loosens its grip. I continue to look around the room even though my fingers itch to look at what's inside. Itch to find out more about the man who likes to irritate me beyond reason and crawl under my perfectly constructed walls and make me want him all at once. But I keep my eyes trained on the hanging artwork because I know I shouldn't look at the book.

I really shouldn't.

But before I can even stop myself, not that I really wanted to, I grab onto the book and make my way to sit on the edge of the large bed in his room. The plush navy comforter softens beneath me as I open up the book with excitement buzzing fiercely through my veins.

A gasp expels from my lips as my eyes fall on a detailed portrait of a young woman. It almost looks like a photograph with how realistic it is, and as I begin to flip through the pages I see a few more with the same woman back to back. Who is she? Did she mean something to him? Does she still?

The mass of questions rattle off like loose cannons, and they hit my chest with little explosions that make me wince. Why should I even care?

I don't, I try and reason. But even I recognize the lie and I can feel my shoulders deflate.

The sound of footsteps sends a jolt of fear through my system as I realize I'm about to get caught. My gaze snaps up from the pages in front of me and my face turns red realizing it's already too late.

I am caught. Ice freezes my heart and chills my body before full fledged embarrassment takes over making me wish I could disappear.

Colt's dark eyes lock on me and I notice the way they don't widen or show any surprise. Almost as if he knew he would find me here.

"Sorry!" I shout out as I immediately attempt to close the book but it just clumsily falls from my lap and I become even more flustered. I am not a snoop and being caught in Colt's childhood bedroom by Colt himself makes me want to throw myself out of his second story window as I scream out in mortification.

He takes a few long strides into his room. "It's fine—" he starts but I don't let him finish. I can't. The shame is too much.

I shake my head with vigor. "No. I shouldn't have come in here! I'm intruding and I'm so sorry," I apologize as I pick up the large leatherbound book and stand upright in front of Colt on shaky legs. I hold out the book for him to take knowing my entire body is as red as my hair. "I'm sorry," I add, dropping my eyes to the floor.

"Maxine," Colt says and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at the way my name sounds coming from his lips. Nothing should sound that perfect. Nothing. It's far too dangerous.

"What?" I murmur still holding out his sketchbook just wishing he would take it so I can leave.

"Look at me," he pushes and a shudder swirls down my spine at the authority in his husky voice.

I want to throw the book at him and let the floor swallow me whole with the humiliation taking over every inch of me and making me internally cringe. But I don't run and hide. Instead I lift my gaze and lock it on his to find amusement sparkling in his eyes and the hint of a smirk tugging across his face.

He finds this...funny?

Colt keeps his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his black pants. "It's fine," he promises me and if I thought I was startled before I don't even have words for his reaction now.

My eyebrows knit together as muddled confusion threads through me. "Oh...okay?" I trail not knowing what to say at all. I'm shell shocked by his calmness and I don't even know how to take it...so I end up sitting back down as I try to make sense of what just happened.

Colt remains a few feet away from me and lets his eyes pause on me for a moment. They trail down the length of me as if taking me in and it makes me shiver. He always looks at me with such intensity and purpose it makes me tremble and shake. Because once again I'm nothing special. But for some reason Colt makes me feel like I could be.

He makes his way to the bed and sits down next to me but I notice how he keeps more than enough space between us. He makes sure not to touch me in any way and the realization that he's keeping his distance from me makes my stomach twist with a pain I don't expect.

"Do you like them?" he asks me softly as if he's actually worried I won't like them. The slight tremor of vulnerability is rare and pulls me in and makes me want to reach out and touch him. But I don't, and it hurts. I physically ache to touch him and it's something I've never felt before and it takes my breath away.

"Colt, they're amazing," I praise truthfully.

"Thanks," he murmurs quietly and his demeanor is so different than usual it's throwing me off. I'm used to teasing banter and witty quips. Not vulnerable and soft.

I motion towards the wall in front of us. "Are these all just from high school?" I question not even trying to hide my amazement.

A deep chuckle hits my ears and sends heat spiraling through my chest. "Yeah, mom likes to keep our rooms exactly the same," he tells me and I smile at that. While I have yet to meet his mother I just know she has to be amazing. She raised Chase who is one of my best friends and has the biggest heart so on that alone I know she has to be lovely.

"Do you still draw now?" I ask as I run my fingers over the worn and warped leather of his sketchbook. It's obviously been loved and used and I find that just as beautiful as what's on the inside.

I see his shoulders tense slightly and I have to grip the journal in my hands tightly to stop me from reaching out. "I haven't since college," he admits with a shrug he tries to pass off as casual but it comes off stiff and jerky instead.

His response takes me back. "What?" I reply. "Why?" I push not understanding why someone with such talent would take years away from something that seemed to be such a big part of him. Colt may be twenty-seven and not a teenager anymore, but someone with his talent doesn't just leave this all behind for almost five years. I can see the passion behind these works and I can't believe that he could just drop his talent and leave it behind like nothing.

"I've been busy with work," he answers but it's not lighthearted and easy. It isn't playful or teasing. It isn't even annoying and grating against my skin.

It's hard and rigid and seeing this side of Colt makes hot tears prick against my eyes.

Because he is a lot of things, but he isn't cold. If anything he's too hot. Too much flame. Too much fire. Just too much and it's overwhelming and annoying, but now I miss it. So much it startles my system with how jarring his cool attitude is towards me.

I don't want to overstep because it's clearly a sensitive topic but I can't stop myself. "You should make time. Seriously Colt you're extremely talented," I state earnestly.

He stands abruptly and it causes my chest to constrict and my eyes to widen in a mix of fear and surprise.

Colt faces the wall in front of us but he isn't looking at his artwork. Nope. His eyes are closed and the pain that radiates off of him strikes me directly in the chest and it hurts. Hurts more than it should and I hate the pain. Because I thought I was numb, but around Colt I guess I'm cut open and exposed.

"I should head back down before my parents notice I've disappeared," he declares as he walks towards his open bedroom door, not even giving me another glance as he starts to leave and my insides knot.

I stand dropping the book to the side letting it's heaviness thud against the bed. "Are you okay?" I shout after him, unable to let him walk away when he's like this. Unable to let him go when his pain is palpable and mine is so stuffed under the surface I've learned to ignore it.

"I'm fine," he grits out, visibly not wanting to elaborate.

"Colt—" I begin but he cuts me off as he rotates to face me.

"You wanted me to leave you alone Maxine. So I am," he spits out at me and his words feel like bullets ripping holes in my paper heart. I'm no longer worried about the cracks in my heart when these gaping holes are leaving me hanging by a single thread. "I'm not here to scare you and contrary to what you said I don't only chase pleasure. I just chase what I want," he ends with fire in his words and flaring wildly in his eyes.

I swallow the thick lump in my throat. "I thought we were going to be friends," I remark hating how unstable my words come out showing how defenseless I am at this moment. Because he's right. I pushed him away. I told him to leave me alone.

And now he is, and I want to fucking cry.

I pushed him away continuously believing he wouldn't stop chasing me, but now he has and I feel empty.

Colt scoffs. "Yeah, sure...friends," he utters with resentment tinging his words and tearing me open.

I open my mouth to speak but it doesn't matter because he doesn't stay around long enough to hear whatever words I come up with. He leaves me behind and every part of me wants to chase after him and apologize.

But I can't because this is all my fault. And I hate it. I hate it all so much. But I put myself here. So I can only blame myself. I can only hate myself.

I stand in his room for a few long minutes trying to get my wild mess of emotions in check. I then move his journal back to his desk not wanting anything to be out of place. Not wanting him to come back to this room and remember this awful moment.

My fingers run through my hair before they run down the front of my dress. I attempt to straighten my outside appearance when it's my insides that are the real mess.

I finally make my way downstairs and find my friends with ease. Grayson and Hayley watch me closely, obviously wondering where I disappeared for so long to, but they thankfully don't question me in front of Finn.

"Hey," he smiles when I step up close to him. He places his hand gently on my hip and leans in close. "Are you okay?" he asks softly.

No, my heart screams.

You'll be fine, my mind responds. You always are.

I feel new walls being constructed where the new cracks and holes of my heart reside, and it hurts but I won't let anyone see. Especially sunny and bright Finn.

"Of course," I tell him with a smile that feels as fake as ever as it sits heavy on my face.

The night passes by and I try to remain focused on my friends and the perfect ocean air that floats in from the open windows.

But no matter where I am or who I'm talking to I can feel Colt's eyes on me. His hard, dark, intense gaze remains locked in on me and my every movement.

I know he's watching me, but I don't give in. I don't glance his way.

Until I do. I finally break and meet his all-consuming gaze and in that moment I come to terms with the fact that I do want him. I want him in a way that isn't safe or harmless to my already battered and bruised heart. I want him even though I know it will only end with me broken and ruined.

But I still want him.

And somehow that only makes it worse.