Page 116 of Broken Saint
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “You’d be smiling too if you’d experienced what I had. Not that you’re likely to. When was the last time you got laid, exactly?”
“I’m not here to discuss me,” West snarks. “I’m here to discuss you and El.”
I swear, the second he says her name, my smile gets wider.
Or at least it does for a few seconds, because then reality hits, and everything, including my lungs, depress very quickly.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning closer to the camera with a frown on his face. “Don’t you fucking dare drop her, Colt. I swear to God, if you fucking hurt her again, I will get on the next plane and?—”
“I’m scared,” I confess quietly.
West begins to say something, but then he thinks better of it.
“What if…and I…”
“Colt,” he breathes before dragging his hand down his face and slumping back in his own driver’s seat. Something tells me that we’re sitting in the exact same place, only a few states apart.
A pang of longing hits me out of nowhere as I think about the last time I saw my little brother. It wasn’t all that long ago, before preseason started for both of us. But fuck, I miss him.
Growing up, he was one of my best friends. But unlike the others, he was always there—sometimes annoyingly so—no matter what, or how shitty our lives got. My one constant. And I’m not sure I’ve ever let him know just how much that meant to me back then.
“I get it, I really fucking do, but you can’t let fear rule your life and stop you from having something incredible—that you deserve—with Ella. Hell knows you guys have waited long enough.”
“I know,” I groan, slumping lower in my seat. It’s as if my biggest fears in life are literally pushing on my shoulders.
“Just tell her,” he states as if it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world.
“West,” I warn.
“What? It’s Ella. You should have told her a long time ago. Hell, I should have, but I was being loyal to my asshole brother.”
“Love you too,” I mutter.
“Colt, Ella loves you.” I can’t help but scoff, unable to accept that it might even be a possibility. “Don’t do that,” Westchastises. “She’s loved you for years, and you know it. You were just too stubborn to accept or do anything about it.”
I want to argue, but I can’t. I am a stubborn asshole. But I don’t see that as a bad thing. It’s got me where I am right now.
I stare up at the blue and yellow Saints logo that’s sitting proudly on the side of our training facility.
As a boy, this was all I wanted. Every single game I played, every training session, every injury I battled through…all of it was to get here. To walk out on that field and stand on the giant SS in the middle.
That first day after I signed my contract, I walked out through the tunnel to an empty stadium and just stood there.
Fuck. It was the best day of my life.
Everything I’d planned and worked toward had finally paid off.
It was only overtaken by our first game.
The sound of the crowd as I ran out in Saints blue, my name proudly on my jersey just like Dad’s had been all those years ago.
I thought I’d found my home.
Little did I know, the stadium wasn’t really my home. Just a stand-in for when the real one returned to me.
Suddenly, I don’t want to be sitting here talking to West about what I should be doing, reminiscing on how I got here. All I want is the woman who is in my penthouse right now waiting for me.
“Colt? Colton,” West snaps, dragging me from my thoughts. “Jesus, you’d better not be fantasizing about being between Ella’s thighs while talking to me.”