Page 19 of Untamed

Nodding, I step closer to the couch, lowering myself on the opposite end. “He does. But I told him that I just want to be friends.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he demands, those green orbs darkening as they pin me in place.

Embarrassment cloaks my skin, but I need to push forward.

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Why am I telling Colter?

“I don’t know. I just thought you should know there’s nothing between us. At least not on my part,” I murmur, trying not to back down from his intense stare.

“Brandon clearly thinks differently. He’d have been less obvious if he pissed all over you,” he bites out as the tension turns almost suffocating.

A chuckle bursts from me before I can stop it, but I quickly sober, confirming. “He would have.”

Colter’s lips curl into that faint smile, the one I’ve only ever seen him give to me. My chest warms at that realization. I watch him closely, searching for anything that will give this guarded man away. As if he knows what I’m doing, he shakes his head, his face shifting into that infuriating blank mask.

Scrubbing a palm across his stubble, he sighs. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

I freeze, the pounding of my heart the only indication that I’m still breathing. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He huffs a humorless laugh. “I see the way you look at me, Mila.” Heat floods my cheeks, and I want to get out of here. Am I that obvious? “And don’t get me wrong, if things were different, I’d probably fuck you. But they’re not. Not only am I too old for you, but God knows I’m not a good man. I need this job. No pussy is worth losing more than I already have, even if that cunt belongs to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The crude words turn my stomach, but all I can focus on are the last six words out of his mouth.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I ask shyly.

Colter chuckles, the sound sardonic as he shakes his head. “You know you are. Is that all you took out of what I said? This,” he waves a finger between us. “Cannot happen.”

Sighing, I flop back against the arm of the couch, annoyed at the mess we’ve found ourselves in. Colter is right. I know that. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less to know he is just as off limitsas I am. Shame coats my skin as the weight of what I’ve just done hits me. What I put in this position with my silly crush.

The atmosphere turns thick, the weight of Colter’s words hanging heavily between us. I chew my bottom lip, suddenly feeling like an idiot for coming up here.

“We can still hang out, right? You’ll still play for me?”

He smirks, resting his head back against the couch. “Yeah.”

Hope blooms in my chest despite everything that’s been said. And then without thinking, I blurt. “How old are you?”

“How old are you?” he shoots back.

“Nineteen in a couple weeks. How old are you?” I repeat the question.

Those full lips curl underneath the coarse hair of his stubble. “Thirty. It’s my birthday today.”

I gasp, jumping off the couch in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve at least baked you a cake.”

His gaze narrows on me pointedly. “One, that’s a little hard to do when you’ve been avoiding me. And two, I’ve never celebrated a birthday, so I figured why start now.”

My chest cracks for this man. Though I haven’t known him long and he barely says two words to me, my heart hurts. I want to ask him questions, find out why his parents never celebrated his birthday, and why he’s so guarded. But I don’t want to be intrusive. At least not right now.

“I’m sorry. For both.” I say softly, then whisper. “Happy birthday, Colter.”

His face softens slightly, before his features harden again. “Thank you. But I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, it’s empathy. There’s a difference.”

He shrugs, indifferent. “Whatever. I don’t want it.”

Anger ignites inside me, and before I can stop it, I’m in his face. “Jesus Christ. I’m trying to be nice here. You may think I don’t see you Colter, see through that hard exterior, but Ido. You’re so used to pushing people away that when someone shows you even a hint of kindness, you take it as a personal attack, going into defensive mode. But guess what? I’m not everyone and no matter how much of an asshole you are, you won’t scare me away.” My chest heaves with my outburst but I don’t care. He needed to hear it.

He glares at me, his jaw ticking with barely contained annoyance. I take a step back, not because I’m scared but because I can’t be this close to him without wanting to do something reckless, like kiss him.

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