The Consequence of Loving Colton

  “Your life makes me sad.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Seduce him.”

  “Again, with what?”

  “Your body.”

  “I have no body.” I slumped against the seat in a pout. “Besides, I don’t know the first thing about seduction. And he hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you.”

  “I tried kissing him when I was sixteen and he laughed in my face.”

  “To be fair, your skirt was tucked into your underwear.”

  “Not the point!” I yelled for real this time. Why the heck had I drunk that entire bottle of wine and confessed all my embarrassing moments to Max? The terrible two outside my car began banging loudly on the windows. Great, I’d probably captured their attention when I raised my voice. And fantastic, the car began to move. I’d officially awakened the beasts.

  “I’m in hell.”

  “Well . . .” Max laughed. “Don’t let the flames give you a sunburn. I gotta run, just saw my Starbucks barista . . . I will get a date if it kills me! Oh, and good luck. You’ll need it.”

  “Right.” I clicked “End” and shut off the car.

  Nothing was going as planned—that was for sure.

  CHAPTER TWO

  MILO

  I opened the car door and faced the guys.

  “Hey, Milo! You made it!” Jason, my older, sweeter brother joined Colton on the other side of the car and smacked him on the back. “You gonna stay in your car all night or come congratulate me?”

  I shrugged and unbuckled my seat belt. “Sure, Jason, congrats. You grew a pair of balls and settled down. I’m so proud.” I jumped into his arms for a hug before he could put me into a headlock.

  “Very funny,” he murmured against my hair. “By the way, Colt’s date bailed on him so I kinda sacrificed you on the family favor altar. You guys are stuck with one another. That okay?”

  Is that okay? I tried to keep my face from falling. How the heck was I supposed to get over my childhood crush if he was going to be around me every second of every day that weekend? Ever since Colton took my heart and drowned it in the bottom of his parents’ pool, I’d been strategic about my visits home. It kinda pissed me off how easy it had been for us to grow apart. We went from spending every week together to barely seeing one another on Christmas. This last year he’d gone with his parents to Europe for Christmas so I was going on eighteen months of no Colton exposure . . . I imagined him kind of like the plague, only the good kind, the kind that I had to keep away from my girl parts at all costs. In theory I’d known he would be here for the wedding, I just hadn’t realized I’d be forced into his presence or that just by smelling him I would be transported back to freshman year of high school when I used to trace his name with a glitter pen.

  The point was, the eighteen months had been good. I’d done some casual dating and I’d stopped comparing every guy to him. Well, sort of. Okay, let’s just say I was doing better, loads better. I was actually looking forward to the future, to graduation, to starting my life, and I couldn’t do that if I was still stuck in the past. And Colton needed to stay in the past. I refused to keep hoping that he saw me as anything other than what I was . . . a friend.

  “Sure,” I heard myself croak. “No problem.”

  “I didn’t think it would be.” Jason gave me a lazy smile. “Besides, didn’t you and that one guy break up like a few weeks ago?”

  “Max?” I squeaked in full-on panic mode.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who’s Max?” asked Colton.

  “Her boyfriend, they were pretty serious for a while.” Jason elbowed me and waggled his eyebrows. “Right?”

  “Uhh.” Great. I was officially without words. Max was a friend—my best friend. He’d been a friend since my freshman year of college. He’d hit on me, my insecure self had thought he was gay, and, well, it was a match made in heaven. Max was gorgeous, and I was pretty sure the guy had a revolving door into his bedroom, not that I paid much attention. Guys like Max were never friends with girls—ever. But somehow it worked for us even though people always assumed there was more going on.

  Until now.

  “Why haven’t I heard of Max?” Colton’s gaze narrowed. “Is he a good guy? Does he still call you? Say the word and I’ll kill him if he touches you, Milo.”

  “Whoa, dude.” Jason put his hands on Colton’s shoulders and massaged. “Back off, she has a brother.”

  “Yeah,” I repeated. “I have a brother. Last time I checked you weren’t family.” I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a barb, but it was still hard not to feel upset over his rejection from four years ago. Even now I still felt rejected, and he hadn’t even done anything except remind me that I was the little sister. It was like a bad movie on replay.

  “Believe me . . .” Colton’s green eyes held mine. “I know.”

  “You’re here!” my mom shouted from the door, waving the spatula in her hand. Her black hair was piled high on her head in a bun. Pearls adorned her ears and she wore a trendy apron that had a picture of a red stiletto heel.

  “That I am.” I smiled and walked into her embrace. She smelled of Oscar de La Renta perfume, my favorite scent next to Colton’s. Which was just sad when I thought about it.

  “How was the drive?” She draped her arm around my shoulder. “Boys, get Milo’s stuff, will ya?”

  “Sure, Mom!” Jason and Colton disappeared as Mom led me into the house.

  “The drive was good.” The smell of turkey dinner filled the room, and my stomach growled in anticipation. “I made it in record time.”

  Mom released me and walked over to the stove. “I still don’t know why you don’t just take the train, it’s so much easier.”

  Shrugging, I answered, “I like to drive.” And I did, but I also liked to have my own car and freedom whenever I came back to New Haven. Especially this time. Being stuck with Colton all weekend was sure to make me crazy. I couldn’t even speak complete sentences around the guy, let alone be his date for the weekend wedding.

  “Everything ready?” Dad bounded into the room and kissed my mom on the cheek before smacking her butt. “Oh, Milo, didn’t see ya.” He winked.

  “Rogue, yes you did.” I jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you too, squirt.”

  My eyes narrowed into slits.

  “Oh, come on,” Jason said from the door. “You still think if you eat enough spinach you’ll gain another few inches.”

  I ignored him and grabbed a stick of celery. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  “You’re not short.” Colton snagged the celery out of my hand and stuck it between his teeth and wiggled it up and down like a fat green stick.

  I reached across and snatched it back, taking a huge bite. So attractive, I know.

  “You’re just . . .” He tilted his head and eyed me up and down. The celery went dry in my mouth. “Perfect.”

  “Suck-up,” Jason cough-spoke. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want her to stab you in your sleep this weekend.”

  Colton chuckled. “Got me there. No way am I going to escape this wedding unscathed, not with that one on the loose.” He pointed at me, and my stomach sank.

  I liked being one of them. Loved being included, which I always was. But I was grown. I was finally twenty-one and graduating college. I didn’t want to be the kid sister who played basketball with the boys and refused to wear dresses.

  I wanted to be a girl, and Colton had never seen me that way.

  I swear he cried the day I hit puberty.

  It was like he was more affected than I was that I was turning into a girl instead of a boy.

  So started the first day of the rest of my life. Colton and Jason were two years older than me. In high school the girls wanted to date either Jason or Colton, which meant everyone wanted to be my friend.

  My locker had more love notes in it than homework and books. I was always a good sport, passing on the not
es and laughing when the guys read them.

  I would have never lived it down had they known that every night in my diary I wrote my own love note to Colton. Though mine didn’t suck; mine were awesome. Not that he would ever see them. Ever. Crap. I need to go burn that book. In the unlikely case that I died this weekend, the last thing I wanted was for them to read it at my funeral.

  “Be right back.” I ran up the stairs and opened the door to my childhood bedroom. Pictures of Justin Timberlake and Harry Potter littered my wall. Ah, memories.

  I rummaged through my drawers and located the diary, stuffing it as far underneath my mattress as I could. Tomorrow I would burn it. Tonight I would read it, and then I would forget Colton for good. But before all that . . . before I gave up . . .

  I was going to wear a dress.

  And he was going to kiss me, damn it! I’d done nothing but try to forget him for the past four years and all it took was ten minutes in his presence and I was ready to jump back on the Colton bandwagon. Suddenly this weekend was about more than my brother getting married, it was also about me finally getting the thing I’d wanted since I knew I liked boys. One kiss and I’d be able to bury my diary along with the rest of my desires for Colton. I just wanted one instance where he saw me as something other than his little sister. I deserved it and I was going to take it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MILO

  “Milo! Dinner!” Mom called from downstairs. I quickly brushed out my hair and put on some clear lip gloss. I checked myself in the mirror. My long, golden-brown hair hung past my shoulders in loose waves. I had on a pair of ripped jeans topped by a white t-shirt that fell off my shoulder, revealing the tan I’d been trying to perfect for the past month in hopes of looking hot for my brother’s wedding. My brown, almond-shaped eyes stared back at me with too much hope in them. Yes, I wanted to say aloud, we’re doing this. Operation Get Kissed is officially a go. I ran my hands down my torso and took two soothing breaths. The outfit looked good, it showed off my athletic build. Plus I was showing skin, not a lot, but enough to make him wonder . . . at least I hoped.

  “Coming.” With one final glance in the mirror, I ran down the stairs and collided directly with a firm chest.

  “Hungry?” Colton looked down at me; his hands moved to my shoulders to steady me. Instinctively, I looked at his lips and licked my own.

  He pulled away and laughed. “Watch where you’re going, squirt.”

  I stuck out my tongue and went to my usual chair at the table.

  “So, Milo.” Dad folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “How’s your senior year?”

  “Yeah . . .” Colton smirked in my direction. “You still majoring in . . . what was that again? Cartoons?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Art, with a minor in graphic design.” I had to force myself to keep from sticking out my tongue again in self-defense. After all, he knew exactly what I did.

  When he’d asked me to do a tattoo in honor of his father—I’d cried. I was so embarrassed. I mean, his dad had died saving people’s lives on 9/11, and instead of crying, he was comforting me.

  “What do you want?” I whispered through my tears.

  “Something that represents strength, honor, love . . .” His voice trailed off as he reached up and wiped the stray tears from my cheeks. “I trust you, Milo. I’ll love whatever you come up with.”

  My breath caught in my throat. We were so close, I wanted to lean in; I wanted to feel his lips—just once—against mine.

  “Anyway.” He chuckled and looked away from me. “I’ll pay you or whatever.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You won’t pay me. I’m your friend.” Crap, that word felt bitter. “It’s what friends do.”

  “Right.” He sighed, and repeated, “Friends.”

  “A favor from a friend,” I said, trying to make it sound better.

  “Thanks, Milo.” He let out a sigh. “Thanks a lot.”

  He had left. And that day I’d cried some more, not because of the refreshed grief but because I felt like I was constantly in limbo with him, so close but so far away, and I hated that it always seemed like if anything was going to happen, I would have to be the one to take the first step.

  “Milo? You hear anything I just said?” Jason threw a dinner roll at my face.

  I felt my cheeks heat. “Uh, sorry, just tired from the drive.”

  “It’s an hour and a half,” Colton teased. “Then again, you drive slower than my grandma, so—”

  I aimed the roll at his wide grin and launched. Take that! The golden bun arched through the air on the perfect track to annihilation, but instead of its impacting my target, Colt intervened, snatching it out of the air and taking a huge bite, his perfect mouth taunting me with each chew. Yeah, good luck getting that particular image out of my mind for the next ten years. Perfect teeth, biting into a soft roll. I shivered and looked away. Great, so rolls did it for me now. Nice.

  “Colton,” Mom scolded. “Be nice, she just got done with finals. Besides, you said you slept in until noon today—at least she isn’t lazy.”

  “He slept in till noon because he was on call all night,” Jason defended his friend, and then held up his hand. “Roll me.”

  Colton tossed the roll.

  And so went our normal-ish family dinner. It saddens me to report that I ate at least three helpings of mashed potatoes—all because they were right in front of Colton and every damn time he passed them our fingers brushed.

  Maybe Max was right. I needed to either seduce him or abandon the whole idea that he could see me as a potential girlfriend.

  I groaned.

  Out loud.

  “Too many potatoes?” Colton winked from across the table.

  “Starving college student.” I patted my stomach. Yes, patted it like a frat boy after too many beers. “You understand.”

  “Aw, they don’t feed you down at NYU?”

  “I’m an artist.” I folded my arms. “It’s basically in the curriculum, if you aren’t starving, you aren’t talented.”

  “Oh, baby,” Mom interrupted. “Of course you’re talented. And if you’re hungry just tell me and I’ll send Colton or Jason down there with some cookies.”

  Colton at my door? With cookies? Naked? Yes, please.

  “Hate to interrupt all this fun talk about starving, but . . .” Jason clapped his hands and leaned forward on the table. “Wedding weekend.”

  Mom held up her finger and reached under the table, pulling out the biggest notebook I’d ever seen in my entire life and then slamming it down onto the wooden surface in front of her.

  Two words: destination wedding. No way was I going to allow my mom to do to me what she was doing to Jason and Jayne. I was going to fly to Mexico, get married, then sip margaritas all week long. No wedding book. Ever.

  “So.” Mom jerked the book open, using both hands, which was probably necessary, all things considered. A few papers floated to the floor. Sighing, she scanned the page. “The event company gets here at six a.m., so you’ll need to be up at five if you want breakfast in time.”

  “And when you say you”—I played with my napkin—“you mean . . . ?”

  “You,” everyone said in unison.

  “Me?”

  “All of us.” Mom smiled triumphantly. “As a family.”

  “Yeah, I’d been kind of worried about that.”

  I wasn’t a morning person. How was I supposed to look my best when my eyes were swollen shut?

  My mom started firing off instructions, and with each new task my eyes threatened to close out of sheer boredom.

  Peonies?

  Wedding tent?

  Cupcakes that needed frosting?

  Chairs?

  Centerpieces?

  Well, my mom was a woman possessed. It was the only explanation.

  “That’s it.” She sighed happily. “Now on to Saturday.”

  “That was one day?” I shouted.

  Everyone’s head sn
apped in my direction.

  “I mean . . .” I coughed. “Wow, that’s all we have to do tomorrow?” I gave a solitary clap. “Yay.”

  “Very convincing,” Colton mouthed.

  I flipped him off.

  Not a proud moment.

  He gasped and pointed. “Your daughter just gave me the bird.”

  “He’s a liar!” I argued. “Need I remind everyone of the pancake incident of ninety-seven?” During Thanksgiving Colton and I had gotten into mom’s pancake mix. I’d told Colton that Mom said there was a prize at the bottom—but he had to eat all the mix in order to get it. He didn’t believe me. So I got angry. And put the pancake mix down his pants. The funny part was, he was a scrawny kid so I was easily able to overtake him. Unfortunately I didn’t know my own strength and gave him a black eye.

  When my parents found out, Colton lied and said he gave himself the black eye. My parents told Colton’s parents, it was a whole . . . thing. Needless to say everyone found out he was lying and that I was to blame. Our parents were convinced that we had been fighting, so they said we had to learn how to solve our differences through competition rather than beating on each other.

  “That was one time!” Jason pushed his chair back as Dad maneuvered himself around an irate Colton.

  Smirking, I rose from my chair. “I rest my case.”

  “There’s only one way to settle this dispute.” Colton’s eyes darkened.

  “Oh, hell,” I muttered under my breath, my heart hammering against my chest as I recognized the look in his eyes.

  “You ready, squirt?” Colton breathed down my neck. Not how I’d imagined us spending the rest of the evening. I’d had witty banter, romantic movies, and possible kissing on my mind, not . . . this.

  “I’m always ready,” I fired back. “I was ready last Christmas when you fell on your ass—”

  “Mom! Milo said ass,” Jason yelled up the stairs.

  Ignoring him, I continued. “—and I was ready last summer when we ended the game at a tie because you were bleeding all over the table.”

  “I broke my finger.” Colton threw his hands into the air. “And you laughed!”