Page 35 of Send It
Something crashes over her and I can see her shoulders tense. “If you like her tits so much, I’m sure there’s enough of Tate’s sister to go around.”
She’s feisty and it turns me on, “Are you jealous?”
“No, Colson. I’m not jealous.”
I mess with her, “It sounds like jealousy.”
She nods stiffly, “Well it isn’t.”
“I don’t believe you.” I snap back quickly.
“I don’t really care what you believe, Colson. I can’t keep doing this with you.”
“Doing what?”
She drops her arms down by her side and instinctively places her thumbs inside her fists and rubs her knuckle with the other fingers. Something she does when she’s upset. Something she’s always done.
Before I even realize what I’m doing both of my hands are entwined with hers. It’s hard to keep the crutches under my arms and reach for her at the same time. Lincolnnotices and steps closer to me. I think she might pull away but she doesn’t.
She looks down at my leg and back up at me, “Lying.”
“We aren’t lying,” I say, reaching up to brush her hair back.
She takes a tiny step back but it might as well be a mile because that’s how far away she feels. Mentally and physically. “We aren’t being truthful. I told you I can’t keep this from Reiss.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I blurt without totally thinking it through. It does seem to make her feel better though. She steps closer to me and presses her lips gently against mine before looking up at me.
“Is that what you want?”
My best friend to hate my guts? No, Linc. Not really.
“I want you, Lincoln. The only way that happens is if I talk to Reiss.”
She smirks up at me, “You’ve always had me, Colson Raines.”
I bop her on the nose, “That’s better than dipshit, baby Bane.”
Her face twists, “Ugh stop callin me that.”
“Never.”
18
Colson
The anxious feeling I have when hobbling with my crutches into the Bane house isn’t a familiar feeling. Knowing that I’m about to tell Reiss I’m into his sister makes me physically sick.
My mind swirls with different scenarios but most end with me getting punched.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Reiss says with a giant smirk on his face that falls the instant he sees my crutches. “Geez, notthose. God dude, Nationals are like right around the corner and you are hobbling around on fucking crutches.”
“I’m alright, man. Just trying to rest it.” I lie, not really wanting to deep dive into the end of my racing career right now.
“Lincoln acted like you needed surgery.”
I chuckle nervously, “Lincoln exaggerates.”
“That she does,” he agrees. “Where is she?”
