Page 24 of Freeing Denver

He must be fed up, because he doesn’t stop me from tying it around his wrist. While JJ and Taf go to raid the refrigerators, Ichange seats so I’m across from Alistair. He doesn’t look at me, but he’s fiddling with the bracelet.

“Do you think we have anything in common?”

“No,” he says simply, still not looking at me.

I run my fingertip across the table’s surface, moving around the unused lettered beads. “You never know. One day I might mention having a soft spot for operas, and you could be like, ‘oh wow, me too,’ and then we’re opera buddies.”

“I hate the opera.”

“The opera is beautiful, you monster.”

He slides his gaze to meet mine. “Why are you trying to bond with me?”

“Because maybe someone sent the snow to force us to actually talk. And would it be such a bad thing if we got along? I’m dating your best friend. I love your best friend. We should?—”

“You don’t love him, Denver. You don’t even know him.”

My shoulders lower, and I can’t ignore the sting in my chest. “That might be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Then I’ll try harder.”

I carefully sweep the bracelet materials aside. “He played center in hockey in high school, and he tried to get everyone to call him Whiplash because of how quick he was on the ice. Taf called him a loser for it. He met Callie in a bar when they were twenty-one and offered to buy her a drink, and she said that was a weak attempt at flirting, so he bought her the bar instead. He cut up heart-shaped strawberries for Amy to go with her pancakes, and she ate them last because she said they were too pretty. He shaved his beard for Callie because she thought it made him look angry. He lovesCasablancaand says Humphrey Bogart is his favorite actor, but he couldn’t name a single other movie he's in.” Alistair watches me as I list off more things I know and love about Colt Harland. “His lucky number is five because he said it’s the middle child of the top ten, and he feelssorry for it. He first killed a man when he was fifteen and didn’t sleep for three days.”

“Okay,” he says. “I see your point.”

“I know you don’t get me, Alistair. I don’t blame you for being suspicious of the woman who appeared one day and never left. But I didn’t plan on staying here, and I definitely didn’t plan on falling in love with Colt. I saved his life one day and it led to this, but I don’t regret anything other than not telling him I loved him sooner.”

Alistair stares at me, his expression a war between understanding and annoyance.

I continue, “I don’t need you to love me. I don’t even really need you to like me. But I need to know that we can spend time together, all of us, and Colt won’t be constantly in the middle of whatever this is.” I wave my hand between us. “He’s been through enough, hasn’t he?”

Things are going to be difficult enough when Colt and Ronan wake up. The Morellis have fallen quiet when it comes to business, which means we could be on the verge of losing them. They may not be big-time, but their connections are vital. War isn’t here, but it’s close, and we don’t need a battle in our home, too. My focus is Colt and Holly over Alistair, but if I can ease at least one tension in our lives, I’ll do it.

Alistair is about to speak when my phone rings. It’s Antonia.

“Hello?” I say as Alistair returns his attention to the window. The line is quiet, but a crackle of a voice comes through. “I can’t hear you. This cell service …” I glance at the screen, the bars on the top right coming in and out. Placing the phone against my ear again, I say, “Antonia? Are you still there?”

Silence.

Then, “Del?”

The phone almost slips from my hand, and the onslaught of emotions makes me wonder if maybe I’ve fallen asleep, because it can’t be him.

“Colt?”

“And he definitely sounded okay?”Alistair asks for the thousandth time as we sit in never-ending traffic to get home.

“I could hardly hear him,” I admit. “But he said my name. It was definitely him.”

“You’re sure?”

We tried to call back, to get through to the nurse at the house, to anyone, but nothing connected. The city seems to be in an almost total blackout, but if I’m right, if I didn’t imagine it … then Colt is awake. After over a week, he’s awake, and I’m sat in fucking traffic, the snow causing countless delays that I am not in the mood for.

I grip the driver’s seat. “Taf, can’t you just drive on the sidewalk?”

He gestures at the cars either side of us. “Do you think we’re in a monster truck?”

“Screw it.” I get out of the car, the cold blasting me, fat snowflakes landing on my coat and hair.