Page 21 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

My response catches in my throat. I don’t know what to say. Because even though I don’t want to admit it, I know why he didn’t say anything. He was distracted. He was texting someone from work. He was too busy to notice.

I don’t have a chance to admit the truth out loud as Colt leans closer, keeping me hostage in his already familiar gaze.

“Want to know a secret, Sunshine?” His tongue darts out between his lips, and his gaze drops to my mouth, then flicks back to my eyes. “I would’ve noticed.”

He walks away but pauses near the stairs. “And you’re right. You and I don’t know each other. But I’ll let you keep the shirt. It looks good on you.”

The corner cuts off my view as he disappears up the stairs.

9

COLT

“Come on, man. One more. You got it,” I say, spotting Logan in the weight section at the gym. He’s lying on the bench, and his chest heaves as he bends his arms one more time, making the 300 pounds his bitch.

Sweat beads across his forehead, but he extends his arms, puffs out his cheeks, and sets the bar back into its holding place with a metallic clang.

“Shit, I hate arm day,” he groans.

I offer my hand and help him sit up.

With his elbows on his knees, he catches his breath, and I say, “You’re doing good. You’re benching about a hundred pounds more than you could in high school.”

He laughs and puts his hands on top of his head, his breathing still staggered. “Yeah, ‘cause I was a scrawny ass in high school.”

“Not anymore, man. You’re gonna show me up if I’m not careful.”

“You should see me on the ice,” he jokes. “You gonna come to any games?”

I shake my head and adjust the weights, adding a few more pounds specifically to watch Logan’s shoulders deflate, and I answer, “Nah. Probably not.”

“You should,” he argues as we switch spots. I lay down on the bench, and he moves into position by my head to spot me.

Gripping the bar, I bend my elbows and shove the weight into the air as I grit out, “Not my thing anymore.”

“At least come hang out on the ice with us. Just for fun,” he clarifies. “You should be out there with me and Theo.”

I do a few more reps and set the bar back into its position, sitting up and resting my elbows on my knees. “You mean I should be out there beating your ass?”

He laughs. “I think I can hold my own now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. You should come practice with us. We’ll see if you still got it.”

I stand up and stretch my arms, shaking my head. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

With a frown, he prods, “How are you doing? Other than the hockey part.”

I know why he’s asking. I know it’s coming from a good place. I know I disconnected after the accident and pushed everyone away. But it doesn’t make his question any easier.

“I’m all right,” I lie.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You been home to see your family?”

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