Page 35 of Broken Saint
“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.