Addicted to You(38)

And I was. Happy and carefree with the freedom to follow Colby and Landon around. Because that’s exactly how it felt to me. They’d always been close, even back then, and I was basically the tag-along puppy.

But the best part of the night was when Colby gave me a stuffed bear. He’d won it playing a ring toss game and wouldn’t have been caught dead carrying it around so he handed it to me. God, how I’d treasured that stupid bear.

The details of that night had always lingered in my mind because even at the age of twelve, I’d already been hopelessly in love with him, but how had he remembered what I was wearing? I couldn’t even recall that.

What had made the night so memorable for him? Was this just drunk Colby talk or was there really something about that night at the pier? I glanced at the sliding glass door wondering where Colby had taken off to.

Then again, even if I went inside and questioned him, could I believe anything he said? A few minutes ago he’d been rambling on about a team for a beach cleanup neither one of us had even signed up for. Obviously, after a few drinks, logic wasn’t really on the table when it came to him.

But curiosity got the best of me. I slipped inside to find him. He wasn’t at the table with the guys playing cards. Nor was he in the kitchen. I glanced down the hall but the bathroom door was open, the light off. His bedroom door was also open with the light off. He wouldn’t have driven off somewhere, would he? My stomach turned, fearing what could happen if he got behind the wheel. I made my way down the hall just to double-check that he wasn’t in his bedroom.

And though the room was dark, I made out the distinct silhouette of Colby.





Chapter 13


His gaze was focused out the window. And I couldn’t blame him. The ocean was peaceful at night. The lull of the waves always calmed my restlessness too.

“Colby?”

He stayed quiet. Didn’t even turn around. Maybe he didn’t hear me, or maybe he chose not to. Either way something compelled me to move forward. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder.

“You okay?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

With a deep breath, he nodded. “Tired.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. You were sitting in the dark, and I thought you were upset. I didn’t realize you were getting ready to go to bed.” I lowered my hand but he caught it.

I stared at my hand, now in his, then at him. Was he reaching out for comfort? Or something more? “Want to talk about anything?”

“The ocean.”

I glanced out the window then back at him. And drunk Colby was still making his grand appearance. “Oh?”

“I like watching it. It’s pretty this time of night.”

“Yeah. It is.”

He released my hand then tilted his head toward the empty spot beside him. “I’m not going to sleep yet. You can stay if you want.”

Several minutes seemed to pass with nothing more from him. I had to say something.

“So the pier? What were you saying about it?” I asked.

“It has good memories for me.”

“I can’t believe you remembered I wore blue. I didn’t even remem—”

“It was a blue sleeveless shirt with tiny white flowers all over it, jean shorts, and flip-flops. Your hair was in a braid.”

What the…? How…?

“The bear. I won it for you.”

I laughed, almost nervously. Scared to admit more than I should, knowing full and well this was just drunk talk. “You just didn’t want to carry it around.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I played it cool, pretending I’d won it on a fluke. But, damn, if I hadn’t tried my hardest…After all, yellow was your favorite color. Except…I hadn’t expected to see that look.”

“What look?”

He grinned. “It was as if I’d handed you a priceless treasure, not some ugly, slightly deformed carnival prize.”

My face warmed and I was thankful the darkened room hid it. Of course I’d looked at it like it was a treasure, because to me it had been.

“I think about that look a lot. Sometimes I think I see it. Other times I think I just want to.”

He wanted to see that look? And what did that mean?

“We leapt, Isla.”

And there was the reminder I needed right then. Colby was wasted. There was no point in deciphering drunken messages.

“Here you are…this girl, who I’ve cared about, watched out for, laughed and joked with, and genuinely just loved as a person, but suddenly I’m supposed to be thinking about you in a way I’d kill another guy for?”

His words sunk deep. And while a part of me screamed It’s just drunk talk, another part of me needed to know more. Like did he regret leaping? Or was he just having trouble figuring out the what next, like me? If we took our time, could we have more? Or could he never see me as more than a friend?