Addicted to You(68)

But maybe this was a good time to talk. In light of what happened last night, we should probably confront things head-on. No more running in circles.

I dug deep for some courage, replayed everything Landon had told me.

I had a spine. I was strong. Colby loved me.

I wasn’t sure if the last one was actually true but if I’d interpreted Colby’s texts correctly—the second time—he did. And that was the fuel I needed. Opportunity was slipping away. Now or never. My move was just around the corner and I couldn’t live with the regret of not knowing.

I took a deep breath.

Confident.

Strong.

Slightly terrified.

I leaned against the kitchen table. A plate with a chocolate croissant in one hand, as I picked at the flaky crust with the other.

Confident.

Strong.

Still terrified.

Colby turned around and looked at me, his gaze wandering a bit too. My heart rate spiked. He looked down and adjusted his trademark ball cap. It was old and dirty and I loved it. Almost every good memory I had of him involved that hat. And I’d always loved the way he smoothed his hair then mashed it back under the hat, leaving only the adorable wisps peeking out around his ears.

Yeah. I had it bad. I loved this guy.

“I need to—”

“So I know—”

We both stopped and stared at the other. But there was only silence. Dammit. Why did it have to be so awkward? We’d gone from speaking at the same time to complete silence to let the other finish.

And then Landon’s words came back to me again. Take charge.

Screw it. I set my plate down and stepped forward to communicate my feelings in the way that felt most natural. I kissed him. Really, really, leave-no-questions kissed him. It wasn’t a tentative peck, or a let’s-explore-our-feelings kind of kiss. It was I want you. I love you. I need you. A this-is-only-the-beginning kind of kiss.

And once again he responded without hesitation, like we’d done this a million times before, like our bodies were merely an extension of the other.

His arm wrapped around my waist, hugging me tighter to him, as his other hand went to my cheek, gently slipping under my hair and caressing the side of my face. His movements weren’t timid or doubtful, but they were gentle. Sweet and filled with an intimacy that only two people who knew each other inside and out could ever really share.

I leaned into him, pressing into my toes to gain the inches I needed to keep my lips where they always longed to be. A million thoughts raced through my mind. Everything from why we had wasted so much time together when we could have always been doing this to the impossibility of loving anyone more than I loved him, to wondering how wrong sex on a kitchen table was. Okay, the last one was hypothetical. I wouldn’t really have done that. Maybe?

No. I wouldn’t. It was wrong-ish.

He squeezed me tighter and I didn’t doubt that, just like me, he’d felt as if we couldn’t get close enough. As if our physical bodies were only an obstacle to connecting on a deeper level. And that’s when I was certain he loved me too.

“Isla…”

Uh-oh. His tone didn’t carry the same sentiment as his actions. Hadn’t we gone down this road enough times?

“I want this.”

Okay, so maybe I’d heard his tone wrong?

“But…”

Nope.

“Isla, I like you. More than like you.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is harder than I thought. And I knew it would be hard.”

Maybe I could make it easier. “I like you too.”

He turned back to me. “But…”

Here we went again. Friends. Or Landon. Or some other ridiculous reason why we shouldn’t have been together. “Stop with this. Please. For once, let’s talk about us. What we are. What we could be.” I took a step back, and looked at him. A silent plea to give us the shot we deserved.

He slid his hand under his cap and massaged his forehead, his eyebrows scrunching together. Then he yanked his hat back down. “Isla, I’m just trying to say—”

“Colby, I can’t keep doing this. Everyone but you seems to know that I love you. Hell, even Landon. In fact, he not only supports it but encourages it.” The words rushed out and I prayed they’d been such a blur that he’d miss my mid-sentence confession.

“You love me?”

Nope. Heard it. Loud and clear.

“As a friend?” he asked.

Though it was hard, I forced my gaze to his. “In all the ways.”

“So as a friend?”

I nodded.

“And as more?”

“Of course, how could you not see that?” I smiled at him. “You simultaneously make me angry and happy all at once. You make me slightly crazy yet completely sane.”