“And on that note, we’re gonna head out,” Mia says as she and Kate reach for their jackets on the coat rack next to the door. “But thanks for the ice cream. Until we find another roommate to take the fourth room, my funds are too tight for junk food.”
“Where are you going?” he asks, letting me go. “It’s girls’ night.”
“No, it’s date night,” Kate argues as she motions to Colt and me. “Obviously.”
“Girls’ night,” Colt repeats. “I asked if I could join it, not cancel it. Stay. I even promise to keep my hands to myself.”
“You? Keep your hands to yourself and simply hang out?” Mia challenges. “I mean, I get us doing that”––she waggles her fingers between them––“since it’s basically what we’ve been doing for weeks. But you and Ash?” She shakes her head. “Not possible, buddy. Go have fun, you two. But if you decide to have sex again, can you do it in Ash’s room? I’d like to not taint the couch if possible.” She swings the pint of Half-Baked back and forth in goodbye and opens the front door. “See ya later.”
“Wait!” Colt yells. “Only girls’ night attendees get ice cream. You wanna pass up on girls’ night, you gotta pass up on Half-Baked and Brownie Batter.” He stretches out his hand, leaving the palm face up to collect payment.
Mia scoffs and turns around. Exchanging glances with Kate, she asks, “Are you serious?”
“Those are the rules, ladies. Come hang out with us.”
Kate frowns. “But…”
“I’m not trying to steal your friend away,” Colt argues. “At least not until after you guys convince me what’s so great about The Bachelor.”
Mia exchanges another quick glance with Kate, smiles, and turns to me. “Oh, honey, your boy toy has so much to learn.” They head back to the couch and turn on the first episode.
We spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, binging ice cream, and soaking up snuggles until Mia and Kate yawn a few hours later and go to bed.
Then, Colt and I taint the crap out of the couch while he makes me eat crow for my stamina comment yesterday.
After three orgasms and a sore va-jay-jay, Colt kisses my forehead, tucks us both in with a blanket, and snuggles up next to me.
And the crazy part? The annoying voice in my head who’s been screaming at me about how unlikely my whatever-this-is with Colt could work out? She hasn’t made a peep.
It’s one of the best nights of my life.
35
ASHLYN
When my phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, notifying me of a message, I slide the mascara wand back into its tube and look at the text.
Colt: Hey.
The butterflies in my stomach bat their wings, and I bite my lip to keep from grinning.
Me: Did I just get a text from the infamous Colt Thorne?
Colt: You’re surprised?
Me: I thought you hated texting.
Colt: I do hate texting.
Me: And yet, here we are.
Colt: I’m at the gym with the guys and figured texting might help us fly under the radar easier.
Me: Look at you, Mister Smarty Pants. You also mentioned you only text if you’re looking for a hookup. Does this mean what I think it means?
Colt: It means I kinda miss you, Sunshine.
My cheeks pinch from grinning so hard as I give up trying to keep it at bay as I scan the message again.