Addicted to You(19)
The song was okay, and the lyrics were good, but my first thought was bullshit. I’d be willing to bet money that he did this at every gig. He’d meet some girl, claim she inspired his impromptu performance, and sing her panties right off. Fast-forward twenty-four hours and she never hears from him again.
I shifted to Colby to share my annoyance and theory but froze when I noticed the little tic of his jaw as he clenched it. He shook his head, rolled his shoulder, then leaned back, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Um, you okay there?”
“Really?” He laughed—completely humorlessly, I might add—then motioned for me to slide out.
I slid from the bench seat and waited until he was also standing. “What, Colby?” I threw my hands up. “You’re in some sort of pissy-ass mood and acting like it’s all my fault. I’ve apologized for making things weird between us. I’ve tried talking. I’ve tried not talking. I don’t know what you want from me at this point. So please, why don’t you at least fill me in on whatever the hell this is about before you storm off.”
Matt and Taylor, who’d been wrapped up in their own conversation, turned to face us. Taylor’s eyes widened—yeah, I wasn’t exactly good at not creating a scene when I got all fired up. But what the hell? Sure there’d been an awkwardness between us, but he hadn’t acted mad until tonight. What changed?
He glanced around, then his shoulders drooped a bit. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.” Then he left, walking away with no explanation whatsoever.
I spun around, darting through the crowd to catch up to him. “Colby.” He didn’t stop so I grabbed his arm.
He glanced back, not looking all that surprised that I’d followed him.
“No way.” I motioned to the front door. “We talk. Now.”
Though he didn’t look thrilled by my demand, he followed without any argument.
We stepped outside and I took a minute to appreciate the silence. My ears readjusted as the bubble of noise I’d been trapped in disappeared behind the doors as they swung shut.
“Okay, talk.” I firmed my stance and crossed my arms, telling him I meant business.
And, lo and behold, angry Colby finally cracked…a freaking smile.
Chapter 8
Hair whipped across my face as the breeze off the ocean brushed past us, but I kept my arms pressed tightly to my chest as I narrowed my gaze on Colby.
The more he smiled, the more my temper flared.
“You look about as threatening as a fly.”
My arms dropped to my sides, hands balled tightly as I completely lost it. “Colby Callahan, you are by far the most ridiculous guy I know. I’m just…I’m done.”
Hi grin faded. “You’re mad.”
I huffed. “You’re mad!”
“And that made you mad?”
“Are you kidding—” I rubbed my eyes, then pointed at him. “You. You started this. I did nothing tonight. In fact, here I thought we were good. But then you storm off, we come out here, and you smile.” I threw my hands up. “Freaking smile. Are you drunk? Crazy? A little of both? Because you’ve totally lost me.”
“I’m sorry. I just—Shit,” he mumbled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just, well, wish things could go back to the way they were.”
His words might as well have been a knife through the heart.
“Well, they can’t,” I snapped.
“That’s not what I meant.” He reached out but I stepped back. “Isla…shit.”
Tired of the fighting and confusion and, well, just everything, I said, “This is where we decide.”
“Decide?”
“Whether or not we can fix things. If we want to. If it’s even worth it at this point. What’s done is done and I’m sick of this dance we’re doing. I’m mad. Then you’re mad. Then me. And you. Back and forth we go.” I threw my hands up in the air again and shook my head. “I’m done.”
“Nothing’s broken. You’re still you and I’m still me.” This time when he reached out I let him take my hand. “And I’m sorry that I’ve been acting all weird and jealous when—”
“So you are jealous?”
“Uh…”
“Of what…why?”
“Everyone. All the time. And, well, because…you.”
“What do you mean me?”
He slowly released my fingers, then adjusted his baseball cap and leaned against the wall. “Even though I know I shouldn’t feel this way, I guess a part of me feels a little…”
He glanced up, and then stared back at his shoes.