Page 103 of Fighting the Odds

Instead of driving me home, Colton dropped me off in the parking lot of the grocery store. I needed to pick up some stuff, and it gave him time to run Sam home.

Watching them drive off gutted me, but it was the best day I’ve had in a long time. Just being able to hold her gave me the energy I needed to fight all this shit. She’s worth it and a million times more.

I push the shopping cart up and down the aisles, mindlessly grabbing the needed items from the shelves. It’s muscle memory at this point.

Toilet paper, trash bags, tampons, body wash. Once I’ve put everything in my cart, I head to checkout. Oddly, this store is one that still has actual people checking its customers out and not you having to do it yourself.

Amen for a business that still wants to provide employment for people, instead of adding to the population of unemployed individuals.

It doesn’t take long to ring out the items, and I place the bags back in the shopping cart and head outside to wait for Colton. We decided to wait and have our conversation once we got back to the apartment.

I’m nervous as hell about it. But after talking with Arizona about what’s taken place between Colton and me, and the feelings I have for him, she helped me decide what I need to do. It’s helped to hear about the struggles with the relationships with her own men, especially Bash, who fought it in the beginning.

My phone vibrates in my hand from where I stand leaning against the building.

Colton: OTW 10 minutes out

Me: K I’m outside waiting

I almost slide my phone back in my pocket, but I stop and pull up my messages to send a new text.

Me: I’m doing it today. I’m going to tell him exactly what we talked about. He did something today that sealed that decision for me.

Arizona: Yay! That’s exciting. I can’t wait to hear how it went.

Arizona: See you tonight at the club. The old man is demanding some time if you catch my drift.

I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Crap, did I interrupt them having sex? I’ll apologize later, but shit, why did she answer?

Switching to my camera roll, I look through the pictures I took earlier today with Sam. I can’t wait to show them to Mrs. Butler. She wouldn’t ever tell anyone.

I’m so lost in them that when someone grabs my arm, I panic. I scream and hit them before I realize who it is. When did Colton pull up?

“Sorry.” I pull back and wince.

“Fuck, you got a wicked backhand,” he tells me as he rubs his head. “Go ahead and get in and I’ll put these bags in the backseat.”

I smile and head to the Jeep, looking over my shoulder when I get there, watching him gather all the bags in his hand, looping the handles over his arm, so he only has to make one trip.

Once they’re all safely stored inside, he rushes around and gets in the driver's seat.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“I am. Today wore me out more than dancing,” I joke, wondering how he’ll take the reference to what I do for work. All three of them have been oddly okay with it.

“Your sister is a spitfire. I don’t know where she gets all that energy. I’ve been enjoying getting to know her, but I’m just sorry that it comes at a price to you.” He bites his lip as he grips the steering wheel tighter.

Reaching over, I place a hand on his and squeeze it. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel guilty about that. Take me home so we can talk and you can show me this other surprise. But I don’t see how you can top the first one.” I give him a wink, pulling my hand back and he pulls away from the curb.

“Did you make sure to remind Sam not to mention she saw me today? I had to remind her not to let our secret slip about once a week.”

“I did. In fact, she wanted to know that if she didn’t let it slip, if we could do it again.” He tilts his head slightly toward me and smiles.

“I’m looking forward to the day we can see each other without having to sneak around. I know I still have to wait a few more weeks until I’m eighteen to try to get custody,” I tell him quietly, letting my gaze drift out the window.

I sit down on the couch beside Colton, who has a bag sitting on the table in front of him. He hasn’t given me any hints. But now that I’ve got everything put away, it’s time to have a talk and to find out what it is.

Taking a deep breath, I blow it out as I count to ten in my head, calming my nerves. It’s what I used to do when I first started dancing at the club.

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