Page 66 of Friends Don't Kiss

“Who the hell is Luke?”

“New guy in town. The guy who pretended to be Nigel. So you wouldn’t recognize my voice.”

I swallow, tears still threatening to spill but the feeling teetering between disbelieving and bitter.

Eyes to the ceiling, he sighs deeply. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he mutters.

This is so crazy. “Prove it,” I say. “Prove it was your friend with the sexy voice talking and not Nigel.”

“He said he was staying in Prattsville for a month or so. He didn’t really want to answer the question about his previous relationship. He said something about not having an accent. And then he messed up and said you were reading too much into stuff.” Colton’s jaw tenses. “I thought I’d lost you then, but I tried anyway. He kept laughing because he didn’t know what to say and he needed time to read what I was scribbling.”

The whole time he’s talking, his eyes are scanning my face. Colton is scared that he messed up, that I’m going to ream into him.

Should I? He did play me. Made me believe he was someone else. I told him already I don’t want to date him.Can’t take the risk.

Then why am I so jealous when he mentions Country Club messaging him? Why do I feel so threatened knowing Valerie is back in town, even for a visit?

Is this the person I want to be? Scared to commit because a long time ago, my trust in men was shattered by my piece-of-shit dad? (And my boyfriend. That makes two.) But Colton? Colton isnothinglike these men. Colton has always made me feel safe. He has always been there for me. Hell, he’s the one who gave me my life back.

I pretend-huff and take a step to the side. “Lemme get my ticket.”

He produces two night passes and a million-dollar smile. “You’re not paying for anything when you’re on a date with me.”

My heart ba-booms but I try to conceal it.

“And don’t you give me an eye roll,” he adds just as I’m ready to… yup, roll my eyes at him.

“He has a nice voice.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Sexier than yours,” I add to rile him up—to see if he’ll be jealous. If he’s really that into me, or if this is just a lazy move, like I’ve told him before.

“Didn’t factor that in, but I’m sure glad it worked.” He leans over to attach the pass on my jacket like I’m some kid, the brush of his fingers against me warming me up. “Anything to get you here, Kiara,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through my chest.

Special.He’s making me feel special, and my heart threatens to explode already, as if it knew it was in for a world of pain. “What’s this guy’s name again? I might want to catch a beer with him.”

He straightens, chuckles, and attaches his own pass. “You mean the guy who thinks you read too much into things? Who thinks being a foodie means you like to eat?”

“You were really writing down what to tell me?”

He tilts my chin up to look me in the eyes, and dammit if his fingers don’t burn my skin in the best possible way. “This is how this date is gonna go,” he says, and it doesn’t escape me that he’s not answering my question.

I want to know what Colton told Nigel—or whatever his name was. I want to know which parts were Colton and which were not, but Colton has moved onto his topic of choice.

“We’re going to freeze our asses on the slopes,” he’s saying, “but have a lot of fun.”

I suppose, if I let Colton take things further, I’ll get to know if he’s also a sweet talker, or if that was all Nig—what’s-his-name. Though I have to say, what’s-his-face’s voice might have been objectively sexy, but it did nothing for me. Not the way Colton’s does. Not even close.

“We’ll take the gondola,” he’s saying, “so I won’t be tempted to put my arm around you on the chairlift.” The traitor manages to smirk at that. “When you’re done having fun you let me know, we’ll come back in and get a hot chocolate. Then we’ll drive our separate ways. Sound good to you?”

My shoulders relax, yet I feel a tinge of disappointment. This is just going to be snowboarding, after all.

His lip tips up at the corner. “Don’t worry, there’ll be other dates.” He lets my chin go, but not without tracing my jawline with his knuckle, then adds, “Taking it slow.”

My knees buckle slightly at his words, spoken under his breath, his gaze showing all he’s not saying in case I needed captions.

I don’t know how to feel about the fact that Colton went through all the trouble of creating a fake profile and getting some guy to stand in for him on the phone. Basically catfished me. I should be angry, maybe even concerned over his state of mind.

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