Addicted to You(2)

I forced a big grin. “Sounds fun. You guys have a good time.” Then I turned to Colby so he knew I expected him to leave with the rest of the group. “But I’m going to head home after I eat. My grandma will be home alone.”

Colby turned back to the burgers, sliding a spatula under one and giving it a quick flip. “I’m just gonna hang here tonight. Jack’s gets a bit too crowded for me on weekends. Add in the storm…” He shrugged.

Wait, he was staying home? Dammit. Me and my big mouth. If I’d let him answer first, I could have just stayed too. Now I was obligated to leave. Worst part—Grandma wasn’t even home. Saturday night was ladies’ Bunco night. And yes, even my almost-seventy-year-old grandma had more of a life than I currently did.

Colby started stacking hamburger patties on a plate and soon everyone had made their way inside to eat. Or scarf down may be more accurate. I found a place at the table by myself while the guys stood around cramming their mouths with food. And once again, I missed Felicity. She’d been my best friend forever, and though I loved that she’d gotten out of this tiny fishing town, like she’d wanted to, it was hard to get used to life without her.

The chair next to mine scraped against the floor as it was dragged from under the table. I glanced up and stopped mid-chew. Not exactly attractive, but Colby had that effect on me. Always had. It was something about the way his light brown hair curled out a bit around the edge of his cap, and his blue-gray eyes always looked like the perfect balance of friendly and thoughtful. I’d watched him grow from skinny kid to this…this perfect guy, and he still managed to send my stomach fluttering. A part of me doubted it would ever stop.

Then he grinned as he settled into his chair and gently poked my ribs, smacking me with the hard reality that I was in love with a guy who had permanently friend-zoned me. “You sure you can eat all that?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, because as stupid as it was, it still meant I had his attention. For a few moments at least. And, let’s face it, I’d take what I could get. Lame? Maybe. But did it thrill me? Absolutely.

He nodded toward my burger. “I am known to cook up some manly burgers, you know?”

“Ah, so that explains why it’s falling apart.” I gestured to the bun as the meat slipped out the middle. I gathered it back up and raised it to my mouth. “Good thing it has a woman’s help to stay in one piece.”

He chuckled. “Touché.” He leaned back and tapped the side of his beer can. “Maybe that’s what I need.”

I kept my eyes on my burger as if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “You falling apart, Colby?” My voice was light and playful, or at least I sure as hell hoped it was.

He shrugged then rolled his shoulders as if to relieve some tension. “This summer’s charter season was busy. Or at least it felt that way with Dad not around to help out. I’m feeling…” He glanced at me and smiled. “Eh, ’nough about me.” As always, he had this way of shutting down just before any real conversation began. “Your burger any good?”

I’d always felt as if I knew the real Colby, and I did. But not because he opened up to me. No, it was because I paid attention. To everything. I’d learned to read his body language. To hear what he wasn’t saying. To interpret his moods. I’d learned to speak the silent language of Colby. And I knew that the last few weeks he’d been off. More tired. Less talkative. A little withdrawn. And while I thought it had something to do with his favorite time of year—peak fishing season—coming to an end, maybe I had it wrong. Maybe he was burned out. Could the guy who lived for fishing finally have had enough?

But I knew better than to pry right now. Colby would give me bits and pieces in his own time, while I carefully read between the lines. I’d get it all sorted out eventually. And like always, I’d find a roundabout way to offer some support without him even realizing what I’d done.

I was only halfway through my burger—as was Colby who, it was safe to say, had slowed down for my sake—when guys started leaving. Now that they’d decided the bar was the place to be tonight, they were eager to get their night going.

As the crowd shrank, Colby started talking more. And these were the moments I lived for.

“Doesn’t your grandma have Bunco tonight?” he asked.

Leave it to him to remember such a small detail of my life. “Yeah, but she’ll be home eventually.”

“You shouldn’t ride out the storm alone. Just hang out here until she’s home. If the rain gets bad, I’ll drive you.”