Eliza Jane - In Too Deep

Once I see my parents off, MJ and I make our way upstairs. She helps me make my bed with my duvet cover from home.

“How was your break? Anything interesting happen?” she asks.

“Funny you should ask.” I know talking to her about Colt is a stupid idea. I pray she won’t flip out and judge me too harshly. “I kind of need to talk to you about something.”

Her eyebrows dart up.

I pat the freshly made bed. “Sit.”

She does, her eyes still on me.

“So…” Rip it off like a Band-Aid, Taylor. “Colt asked me out.”

She cocks her head, shock and horror visible on her face. “Asked you out?” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t ask people out. He takes them back to his room like a caveman. End of story.”

I laugh nervously. “I know. I thought so too.”

“What exactly did he say? And when was this?”

“Over break. We talked and emailed every day. And the first night I was away, he told me he’d make up for his recent behavior by taking me out.”

“And you said?” She waits, her eyes conveying her concern.

I look down, plucking at the blanket. “Um, I sorta said yes.”

“You slut!”

I giggle. “MJ!”

She laughs. “It’s your death, baby.” She pats my leg. “But I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.”

My stomach twists nervously and I remember her friend Jewel. “Thanks,” I mumble. 

              As I’m finishing putting away all my clothes, I sense movement out of the corner of me eye.

Colt stands in the doorway to the girl’s dormitory staring at me.

I jump up. “Hi.” My voice is too eager. I try again. “Hey.”

He smirks at my jumpy response. “Hey.” His voice is smooth, molten and utterly sexy. God I’ve missed him way more than is rationally healthy.

I walk closer, sensing he won’t enter the dorm. I stand in front of him just inside the doorway.

“So… about that date.” He smiles a cocky lopsided grin down at me.

I wait, breathless, my heart galloping.

“Can you be ready in an hour?” His voice is just a whisper.

I nod.

“Good. Meet me at the front door. One hour.” He brings one finger to my lips and presses it there for a brief moment. A promise of a kiss later, I can’t help but think. He drops his hand slowly.

I nod again, sure I’ve completely forgotten how to speak.

As soon as Colt’s gone, I snap to attention, grabbing my bathroom bag, making sure I have a razor and then dash down the hallway toward the showers.

Fifty-five minutes later, I’ve showered, shaved my legs and underarms, dried and straightened my hair, talked MJ into doing my makeup and am dressed in dark jeans, ballet flats and a fitted blue top that MJ says makes my eyes pop. The top is cut in a deeper neckline than I’d normally wear, but I like it and am grateful to MJ for loaning me clothes and helping me, even though I know she’s doesn’t approve of my date.

I thank her, grab my purse and dash down the stairs. I make myself slow down and navigate the steps carefully, not wanting to stumble and embarrass myself in front of sex god, Colt Palmer.

When I reach the bottom, Colt’s waiting in the entryway, leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me expectantly.

His eyes are soft, full of wonder as he drinks me in. I make myself go the last few steps to him. He’s also wearing dark jeans, I note and a button down white shirt. His skin is tan, and healthy. His hair is perfectly disheveled and his eyes dance on mine. God he’s incredible. Breathe, Taylor.

We’re both quiet as Colt helps me into the BMW, which has conveniently been pulled up and parked outside the front doors. His fingertips graze the small of my back as he tucks me safely into the car. I resume breathing once he closes my door. There’s an obvious chemistry between us and I can tell we’re both aware of it.

I breathe in. I’d forgotten the scent of his car. Pure Colt. Clean male with a trace of spicy cologne. It makes my knees weak. I clamp my thighs together and focus on breathing.

“Pick out some music.” Colt hands me his mp3 player.

I scroll through the songs and chose something I’ve never heard of. “Grouplove?” I ask.

“It’s more than just music. It’s a lifestyle.” He cracks a sideways grin.

I chuckle as the music starts. Its seductive thrumming beats in time with my heart. “You have interesting tastes, Mr. Palmer.”

He shoots me a warning glance, then shakes his head. He finds my hand and gives it a squeeze, the hard look on his face falling away. “You are a sassy little thing, aren’t you?”

I don’t answer. Instead I loose myself in the beat of the music, the warmth of Colt’s hand around mine, the smooth motion of the car as we race down the highway. So far this date equals perfection.

Colt pulls up to a fancy yet understated restaurant and parks right in front. He climbs out, tossing his keys to the valet, who catches them with a look of surprise. Then Colt’s at my door, opening it and pulling me up to him. His eyes are playful, but he quickly releases me, keeping one hand on my lower back as he guides me to the door.

We’re led to a table in the back corner, where it’s dim and quiet. The table is covered in crisp white linen and a small votive candle burns in the center. It’s romantic without being overly done.

Colt pulls out my seat for me, and I slide down into it. So far he’s been a perfect gentleman. If I didn’t already know to be weary about his past, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it after seeing his behavior tonight.

I take a moment to survey our surroundings. The restaurant has exposed brick walls, tall ceilings open to the heating ducts above and a rustic stone fire place at its center.

When my eyes find Colt’s he’s openly watching me. I blush under his steady scrutiny, wondering what on earth he could be thinking about when he looks at me like that.

“What?” I ask.

“You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes stay locked on mine, making my breath catch.

I look down. “Thank you.”

Luckily, the waitress arrives to save me. She’s tall, slender, blonde and pretty. Her eyes drift hungrily over Colt while my stomach clenches with jealousy.  I wait for her to address him by name, assuming he brings all his dates here. But she doesn’t.

She takes our drink orders. Sparkling water for him, Diet Coke for me.

“So you must bring all your dates here.” I fumble with my straw.

His brows knit together. “No. I’ve never brought a date here.”

Oh.

“We used to come here for my mom’s birthday every year.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table.  “That was the tradition in my family. Who’s ever birthday it was got to choose. She always chose here. I haven’t been here in years.” He glances toward the front of the restaurant, his mouth turning down a touch. “She liked to sit up there though.” He nods toward the windows. “I thought that might be too strange.” He rubs his chin, thoughtfully.

“Oh.” I’m shocked he brought me here. This place is very special to him. It must conjure up all kinds of memories. I have the urge to lean closer and take his hand, but I don’t.

“Your curiosity satisfied?” he asks, leaning back in his chair once again.

I nod. I feel ashamed for thinking the worst of Colt –assuming that he was closely acquainted with our waitress, when in reality he brought me somewhere he used to go with his mother.