Page 3 of Better Together

Colt shivered at the memory of the time he got caught in the barbed wire fence while chasing a foal that was heading toward a ravine. “Why’d you have to bring that up?”

Remi pursed her lips together, and even in the faint light of the moon he could make out her warning expression. She pointed her key to the side, gesturing for him to move it or lose it.

He studied her one last time. Was she worried about him, or was there something else going on with her? “Fine, but I get to choose the radio station.” He grabbed the driver’s door handle and pulled, but the door didn’t budge.

“You have to pull up, then out,” Remi explained. “If you’re going to be chivalrous, at least do it with gusto.”

Colt did as instructed, and the door opened. He lifted a flimsy piece of tape that hung from the side-view mirror. “Is this duct tape? When are you going to get a vehicle that isn’t held together by a hope and a prayer?”

Remi slipped in and reached for the door. “Never.”

The metallic screech of her dramatic door slam was loud in the quiet night. Colt slipped into the passenger side and leaned the seat all the way back.

“Jess is going to be mad that you messed up her seat situation,” Remi said.

“This ismyseat.”

“I don’t know. She’s my friend and roommate. I think she trumps you with your measly friend status.”

Wow. Words hurt.

“You should promote me then. I think we’ve been friends long enough that I deserve a raise or something.”

“I get mediocre friend benefits from you.”

The truth again. And another blatant reminder that Remi would never see him as anything more than a friend.

He’d tried. Given it his best shot. It had been three years and five months since she set the record straight. Friends without a hint of anything more. Bottom line. Write it in stone. Remi Taylor was off-limits.

There may have been laughing. At his expense. He wasn’t sure anymore because that horrible and embarrassing memory was almost one hundred percent suppressed.

The ride to Ridge’s house was short, but this was one of those times when Colt wished he still lived on the ranch.

The upside: Ridge used to be a professional football player, and he was ridiculously rich. Therefore, his house was a mega mansion, and Colt got to live there rent free.

The downside: He couldn’t walk to his cabin and crash after a long workday.

His shoulder throbbed, and the pain was radiating into his neck and up his jaw.

“Colt, do you want some medicine?” Remi’s voice was quiet in the dark cab.

“No. I’m fine.”

But even he could hear the bite in his voice. He wasn’t fine, but meds weren’t an option for him. He could thank his old man for that family curse. Addiction could turn the best man into a devil, and Colt wasn’t taking any chances.

Remi reached for the radio dial and skipped through a few stations until she found a Tammy Wynette song. Remi sang along, and her twang matched the country music legend’s. There was something about Remi’s voice that made his attention perk up like a dog on a trail.

Colt’s mom had been a singer. Well, she might be living that dream now for all he knew. She’d been gone for over twenty years, and he’d never gotten the urge to look for her. If she wanted him, she would have come back a long time ago.

Remi turned into the driveway and parked in her usual spot beside the garage. She killed the engine and jumped out. Colt reluctantly sat up and crawled out of the truck. It was going to be a long night, if the pain didn’t ease up.

Remi met him at the front of the SUV. “You look awful.”

Colt gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain in his arm. “You don’t. You always look good.”

Sometimes, he could get away with the truth. Only when Remi would assume he was joking. He didn’t need a professional to tell him his relationship with Remi was messed up.

“I’m serious, Colt. Are you okay?”

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