Page 21 of Blurred Love

And then the next text from her reads. “How embarrassing. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. Disregard the first message. I had fun tonight. See you tomorrow.”

I look at the computer screens in front of me. I turn on notifications so if there is any movement, I will be notified with a special ringtone, and then I go back to my phone and start to type.

“I got called into work, that’s why I didn’t return your text right away. But same. I can’t stop thinking of you or our date tonight.”

I hit send, and it’s then that I realize she sent that text a couple of hours ago and she’s probably asleep.

I glance at the computer screen and then at my phone. My heart starts to race when the little dots appear, telling me that she’s typing something back to me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Colter. And just so you know, I won’t be changing my mind. Good night. Sweet dreams.”

I suck in a breath and read her text again. Instantly, my cock is hard again, and I have to fight with myself not to drive across town and take Poppy like I want to. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

I force myself to put down my phone. I ignore my massive hard-on and get back to work because the sooner I get this done, the sooner I get to focus on Poppy and figure out how I’m going to convince her that even though I’m a broken man, we can be really good together.

CHAPTER11

POPPY

It’s been twenty-four hours since my date with Colter, and we should be out right now, but instead I’m sitting in my car with a Tupperware container full of food and a bag from the pharmacy, and I’m filled with doubt.

I re-read the text that Colter sent me a few hours ago.

“I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to cancel. I have a migraine.”

I had texted him back, asking him if he needed anything, but when I didn’t get a response, I got worried. I tracked down Abby’s phone number and called her asking her for her help. She didn’t want to give me Colter’s home address at first, but I finally convinced her that I was just worried and wanted to check on him.

I’ve parked in the parking lot of the rehab center, and I’m facing the path that goes behind it. I’ve been here multiple times, but this is the first time I’ve noticed this path. I get out of my car, grab everything I need, and start walking. The whole way to his cabin, I’m second-guessing myself. I should have put on something else besides a T-shirt and shorts. I had just gotten out of the shower when he texted, and I just went with it. As I pass the first few cabins, I start to get nervous. What if he was just trying to break the date without hurting my feelings? What if he’s at home with another woman?

I practically stumble on my feet. The thought of him with another woman makes me crazy.

I stop on the sidewalk, then turn to look behind me and then back in front of me. Before I can talk myself out of it, I put one foot in front of the other and keep walking until I’m standing on Colter’s porch. I breathe in, trying to calm my nerves, and then tentatively knock on the door.

I’m about to knock again when I hear footsteps and then the door swings open. Colter is standing in front of me wearing black shorts that hang low on his hips, and my mouth drops as I take in his bare chest with the smattering of hair. My first thought is I want to touch him, but when I see the way his eyes are closed to barely slits and the pain on his face, I know I can’t just stand here and drool over him.

I hold up the bag and speak to him in a low tone. “I hope it’s okay that I stopped by. I wanted to make sure you were okay and bring you a few things.”

He leans against the edge of the door. He’s trying to hide the pain he’s in, but I can tell he’s hurting. He brings a hand up to shade his eyes. “I need to lie down.”

He turns on his heel, and I’m left standing at the front door. I don’t even hesitate. I walk in, take my shoes off, put the container of food in the refrigerator, the headache relief wrap in the freezer, and then follow through the door that Colter walked through.

He’s sprawled on his back, one arm up covering his face, and he groans. “I’m sorry, Poppy.”

I sit on the edge of the bed beside his hip. I hate to see him in pain like this. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this, but maybe it’s a good thing. This is me. This is the shit I have to deal with, and it’s not pretty most of the time.”

I run a hand across his arm. “And what? You think this is going to scare me off?”

He sounds so sad and dejected. “It should.”

“Well, you don’t know me very well then.” I don’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I open the bag and start pulling out the contents of my purchase. Pain reliever, over the counter, pain patches, ice packs, anti-nausea medication. I set them all on the nightstand. “Have you taken anything?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’ve taken two migraine medicines.”

“Okay, well, I put some headache wraps in the freezer. It will take a few hours for them to get cold. I have some pain meds, a pain patch, and I put some food in the refrigerator.”

His voice is soft as a whisper. “Do you need to be anywhere?”

---