Almost Matched (Almost Bad Boys) (12 page)

Colin sighs, and then says, “Her name is Anna. I know her from UCLA… before I transferred to the UW. There was a girl I dated, Faith. Anna was her best friend.” He stops and rubs his hand over his chin. He looks at the window, and his jaw clenches and unclenches.
 

I gently stroke his hand. Colin’s eyes find mine, and he continues, “Faith died in a car crash. And I witnessed her death.”

I gasp. My heart lurches in my chest. Colin looks down at the table, and his brows knit together.
 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “This is awful.”

He lifts his head. His eyes are filled with sadness. “It’s been a long time.”

The waitress brings our food, but I lost my appetite. Colin doesn’t seem as if he’s going to eat either. He’s picking tiny pieces of his burger bun and deposits them on the table. I stand up and walk to his side of the table. I sit next to him, circle him with my arms, and kiss his cheek. He leans to me and inhales deeply. I look at the booth where the mysterious girl was sitting, but a middle-aged couple now occupies it.
 

“I really am sorry. And I’m here for you if you need to talk about it.” I hope he will; if not now—hopefully one day.
 

Colin slowly strokes my back with his hand. I feel his heart beating fast against my palm. His breathing quickens.
 

“Are you okay?” I look at him, alarmed.

“Let’s get out of here. Do you want to take your food to go?” He puts twenty-five dollars on the table.
 

“No, it’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”
 

We leave the building. The air outside is crisp, and I shiver.
 

Colin notices and immediately draws me to him, wrapping his arm protectively around me. He kisses the top of my head and quietly says, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin our lunch date.”

“It’s okay.” I mutter against his coat. I lift my face to his and look in his eyes. “Colin?”

We stop by my car, and he watches me, waiting for me to continue.

“Don’t shut me out. I’m here for you. Always.”

Colin nods. “Okay.”
 

I hug him, but I feel his mind is far away from me. I decide not to press him. He needs space, and I can wait for him to open up. I kiss him and get inside my car. Colin closes my door, but a moment later motions to me to roll down my window. He leans over, bending at the waist and smiling sadly. His blue eyes search mine. He gets closer, leaning his forearms on the window. I tilt my body toward him and put my hands on the sides of his face. His one-day stubble prickles my palms. Colin moves even closer, and we kiss, first slowly and gently, but then more urgent. His fingers find their way to the back of my head and entwine in my hair.
 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Colin asks against my lips. “I would like to take you out to dinner.”

“Of course. But only if you really want to. Don’t feel obligated because we didn’t eat lunch today.”

“Baby. Stop!” Colin shakes his head in exasperation.
 

Ugh, smooth, Natalie. I didn’t mean to vex him.
 

“I
always
want to spend time with you. No matter if it’s dinner, movie, walk, you name it. I want to be around you, silly. And I’m sorry about today. It was—”

“Shh.” I put my hand over his lips.
 

He kisses it.
 

“We are okay.” I tell him. “Just promise me one thing: if you still feel awful after work because you saw that girl, and you need me, please—call me. Don’t hold back. Please?”

Colin smiles his sad smile. He nods and moves away from my car, hands in his pants pockets.
 

I turn on my engine and drive off, peeking into the rear view mirror to see Colin still standing and watching me leave.
 

After work I go to the gym, even though the only thing I want to do is to crawl in bed and sleep. But I know the physical exertion will be good for me.
 

Colin texts me right when I pull my car into a parking spot at the gym.
 
“Thank you for being you. I miss you.”

How can I not keep falling for him?

TEN

You don’t get to choose how you’re going to die, only how you’re going to live.

Joan Baez

About two weeks after the incident at Good Eats Guys I stay over at Colin’s. I wake up in the morning to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee wafting from the kitchen. I get up and pull my t-shirt on. After a quick bathroom visit, I follow the heavenly scent of coffee. I find Colin in the kitchen with a cup in his hand. He’s leaning against the counter, reading the Seattle Times. What a yummy scene he is! He’s shirtless, and his boxers lusciously hang off his hips. That tattoo over his chest looks especially sexy this morning.
 

“Hey, baby.” He smiles at me, puts the cup and the paper down, and opens his arms to me.
 

I swiftly fold myself in his embrace. Ah, this is where I belong.
 

He kisses the top of my head. “Are you ready for your coffee?”

I murmur something as close to the
sure
I am
as I can utter with my mouth pressed against his hard pectorals. I feel his laugh rumble in his chest.
 

“What’s the plan for today?” I ask taking a mug of hot goodness from his hands.
 

“Let’s read in bed, sleep, have sex, read again, sleep, have sex, you get the picture.” He shrugs.
 

I grin. “Good plan. Are we going to fit food into that schedule?”

“Sure, why not.”

I stand on my tip toes and peck his lips. He leans to me and holds me against him, making the kiss longer.

“I want you to wear that bra again.” Colin winks.

“What bra?” I’m puzzled. I have a lot of bras.
 

“
The
bra. The one you had on when I first saw you.” He grins, and there is a spark of mischief in his eyes.
 

I burst out laughing. “Are you serious?” I feel a hot prickle of blush spreading over my face. Crap. By now I should be completely comfortable with Colin, so why do I feel self-conscious?
 

“Oh, come on, baby.” He pulls me to him and kisses my neck. He continues tracing kisses all the way to my collarbone. “You looked scrumptious in that bra. Just thinking of it makes me hard.”

“Everything makes you hard,” I retort, smirking and pushing him gently away.
 

“Everything about you.” He pulls me back and remains the exploration of my neck and shoulder with his lips and tongue. “I’m serious. I want you to wear it next time.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

“Let’s eat breakfast. Eggs and bacon okay?”

Colin enjoys his culinary skills, and I’m more than happy to let him take over in the kitchen department. He cooks our breakfast, whistling happily and grinning at me from time to time. I love to see him so happy; so carefree.
 

When the eggs, bacon, and pieces of toast are arranged on two plates, Colin brings them to the bedroom and motions for me to follow. I carry our coffee mugs and a few napkins. He puts the plates down on the nightstand and pulls the covers off.
 

“After you, my dear,” he announces, gesturing to bed with a flourish.

I happily oblige, and soon we are having a classic breakfast in bed. I marvel
again
on the fact that Colin doesn’t have a TV set in his bedroom. None of my previous boyfriends has followed that rule. “I know better than to put one in where the magic happens” he told me once, grinning suggestively. I couldn’t agree more.
 

We cuddle after putting the empty plates back on the nightstands. I feel Colin’s growing erection against my body, but we are taking it easy. There is no rush. Or maybe I’m kidding myself. Although we have all day. And night too.
 

“So what went through your head when you saw me the first time… you know… in the office?”

He pulls away to look at me. His expression is filled with delight. “Let’s see. I thought, hey, that chick knows how to have fun.”
 

That earns him a smack on the shoulder. He laughs and restrains me, pinning my arms over my head and crawling on top of me. His knee gently forces my legs apart, and soon his hard penis presses over my sex. He doesn’t enter me though, but instead torments my aching clitoris with the head of his erection. I lift my hips to push against him, but he retreats, grinning.
 

“Not yet,” he teases.
 

I growl in pretend frustration. Honestly, it is
not
as pretend, as I would like it to seem.
 

Colin kisses me lightly on the lips, and then on the tip of my nose. He rolls off of me and reclines on his side, propped on his bent elbow. His fingers brush stray hairs off my face, and his touch resonates through my whole body. I involuntarily shiver.
 

“There was something vulnerable about you, baby.” Colin’s voice is low and raspier than normal, his eyes on mine. “I couldn’t deny or suppress the need to come to your aid… to protect you. It sounds weird probably, but that’s exactly how I felt when I ran into you half-dressed in your office.” He smiles.
 

“Hmm,” I muse.
 

“I haven’t experienced anything like this for years. Not ever before I’ve met Faith. And not ever after she died.” His smile disappears, and I immediately face him and put my arms around him.
 

He recovers quickly though. He lies on his back and pulls me to rest my head over his heart. “There were many women, but none of them meant much. Even though I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. None of them have made me feel the way you do. You touched something deep inside me. You awoke my heart.”

I’m speechless. Totally, undeniably, foolishly speechless. What do you say to this? It’s so unexpected and so wonderful at the same time. But my mouth is known for having the mind of its own, of course, so it says, “You unbound
my
heart.” I think this time I agree with my mouth for a change.
 

I lift my head and look at him. His lips part, and his expression is that of amazement, and then slowly changes to content.
 

“You never told me if there is a significant meaning to this.” I trace the tattoo on his chest with my finger.

“I got it after she died. To remember and to heal. It used to mean a lot, but now it’s just a… memory,” he says quietly. I get a feeling he doesn’t want to elaborate, so I won’t press him.
 

The tattoo depicts a slender angel with folded wings. A few feathers drift down from the wings and fall by the angel’s bare feet. Her long hair is swept over one shoulder, and her head is bent in prayer. She holds a water lily in her cupped hands. Droplets of water are collected on the pedals and seem to reflect light. I press my cheek to his chest, right next to the image, as if I didn’t want to disturb it. Or maybe it’s because it makes me feel uncomfortable to know there will always be the memory of another woman between us.
 

He marked himself for life because of her. I can’t deny this stirs some uneasy and unwelcome feeling inside me. But I chastise myself quickly. I am a big girl and won’t let myself feel jealous because of his past—especially because how horrid it was.
 

As we planned, we stay in bed all day, and not even a moment of it is boring. We talk, we sleep, and we make love again and again.
 

I want this man to be in my life forever. But forever is a long time, and if I expect that, I may get hurt again. Will we manage to keep alive this thing we have? I can’t help but worry. Ugh, old habits die hard.