Page 31 of One Little Kiss

“And you didn’t sleep with her?”

My head jerks to the left at his words. “Why would that matter?”

“Just making sure you didn’t scare her away with your micropenis.”

What an asshole.

“No, dickhead. I didn’t sleep with her. I barely even touched her. One little kiss is all I got.” But it was enough to ruin me, I think. I haven’t been able to even look at another woman since that kiss and it’s really starting to piss me off.

I’m officially in the longest dry spell I’ve had since I started having sex and it’s putting me on edge. I also don’t admit to purchasing all the Bonne Bell cherry cola lip balm I could find or that my hand is working overtime thinking about a woman who ghosted me.

“What exactly did you want me to do with this?” he asks, staring at the picture again. When he brings it in for a closer inspection, I know he’s staring at me. I’m watching Winnie in the picture, and the expression on my face haunts my dreams. It looks an awful lot like love.

“I-I don’t know. The girls said I needed something to go above the fireplace in the family room. So maybe that?”

“You sure you want a constant reminder right in your face like that?”

No. No, I’m not. But since she occupies my every waking moment anyway, I might as well have a visual to go along with it.

“Yeah, I do,” is what I tell him. “I may not know what happened, but she was a good girl, Halt. I’m sure of it. In just twelve hours, she made me think of possibilities. She was … enchanting. Having a reminder of that feeling I had with her is exactly what I want.”

His expression is neutral, but I can see his mind whirling.

“Also,” I clear my throat, “I’m invoking a Westy.”

Halton chokes on his beer, the smirk falling from his face. A Westy is something we made up as kids. Invoking a Westy swore the other person to secrecy. It was our childhood version of the bro-code.

“You don’t want anyone to know about her?” he asks incredulously.

I shrug. “For what? She’s gone. I know nothing about her except she meant more to me than I did to her. Why would I want to broadcast that?”

“You’ve always been a leap and be damned with the consequences kind of person, Colt. You go a hundred miles an hour and expect everyone to keep up with you. Maybe it scared her.”

Like I hadn’t already thought of that.

“Then she wasn’t the girl for me, right?” I smile through the words, even though they feel like walking on shards of glass. “It’s not a big deal, Halt. She’s just a girl I spent a few hours with that left an impression I don’t want to forget. No big deal.”

“No big deal,” he echoes.

“So, can you do something with it?”

He stares at the piece of paper in his hands for a long time. “Yeah.” He glances up with sympathy I don’t want. “Yeah, I can do something with it. I’m working with some colors right now. Give me a bit to work on it.”

“No rush,” I say, picking up my empty bottle. Carrying it to the kitchen, I spot Halton and Rylan’s wedding photos on the counter. Love. Happiness. Contentment. They’re overflowing with it all in every picture. My chest aches with that unfamiliar pang of longing that’s becoming a daily habit.

I need to get out of here. Suddenly, the love my family has always exuded is suffocating. “I’ll see you for brunch tomorrow,” I call over my shoulder.

Getting drunk feels like a great fucking idea, so I head back down the mountain and grab some beer before crashing Ashton’s solitude.

* * *

“What now?” Ash grumbles as he opens the door.

I hold up the case of beer. “Halt and Rylan are still in the honeymoon phase. I’m in the getting drunk phase. Care to join me?”

“If I say no, are you going to leave?”

“Nope.” I smirk, pushing past him.