Page 8 of Want You Back (Second Chance Ranch #1)

Chapter 8

Maverick

Then: Prom, Senior Year

“Thanks for the ride, Maverick.” Lulu gazed up at me with expectant eyes. Her porch light winked at us, maybe twenty paces away, but it might as well be Disappointment Canyon between here and there. I’d gotten out to open her door because that was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“No problem.” I nodded curtly, not meeting those big brown eyes. She’d looked at me plenty during dinner and dancing. I’d tried to only do the fast songs with her and Betsey, but Lulu had trapped me for two slow songs and keeping a respectful distance had been an endeavor.

“You going to walk me to the porch?” she came right out and asked, exactly how I’d hoped she wouldn’t.

“I…” I opened my mouth. Closed it. For once, I had neither a sarcastic remark nor the charm to smoothly revoke her advances. “You’re sweet, Lulu.”

“It was a fun night.” Shifting on her heels, she winced and leaned down to pull the strappy sandals off. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” I forced a smile, wishing I had ESP to tell her it wasn’t her. And maybe she knew because she leaned in and brushed a kiss on my cheek before rushing up the sidewalk in bare feet, carrying her shoes.

Back in the truck, I rested my head on the steering wheel. “Well, that was awkward.”

“Was the whole night miserable?” Colt asked from the passenger seat. He’d seen and heard the whole damn thing, same as Lulu and I’d had to wait while he gave Betsey a fifteen-minute goodnight.

“Not all of it.” I was lying so hard it was a wonder my tuxedo didn’t start smoking. I’d agreed to go to prom for Colt and Colt alone, and watching him and Betsey had been torture. Hell, I’d sign up to break in horses before doing another prom.

“It’s way early yet.” Colt stretched in the passenger seat, looking in no hurry to get home. All his football buddies were probably either getting lucky or drunk or both. But he was here with me. Good for something.

“I liberated a bottle of Jack from the liquor cabinet,” I shared, keeping my voice carefully indifferent. “You wanna go look at some stars?”

“Hell yeah.” He slapped his thigh, and I hightailed out of Lulu’s driveway in a spray of gravel. I headed out toward the overlook before veering north. Overlook would be full of kids partying and making out. I wanted the middle of nowhere.

And Colt, but that went without saying.

I blasted my music, listening to the pop band Colt said he hated but knew all the lyrics better than me. Maybe he listened only for me, and selfishly, I liked that. I took us way out on a dirt road off one of the smaller roads on the state land. Technically, we weren’t supposed to be here after dark, but I didn’t see a ranger. We arranged ourselves on the tailgate, staring up at the night sky. It was a clear night, crisp late spring, the sort of weather Colorado poets wrote about, and the sky hung inky black with millions of stars. I’d miss this when I was gone. I was still leaving, but I’d miss the stars.

And Colt.

“To us.” I unscrewed the cap on the bottle of Jack. I’d neglected to bring a shot glass, but Colt and I had shared before. Our first beer. The first time we’d snuck whiskey. I took a long slug of Jack before passing the bottle to Colt.

“To us.” Colt took a swallow and then shuddered. We passed the bottle a few more times until warmth bloomed in my cheeks and chest. Colt scooted into the truck bed and stretched his legs out. “You might as well get comfortable, Mav. I’m not about to let you drive wasted.”

His dad might be gone five or six years now, but Colt would always be a sheriff’s kid. Squeaky clean. The kind of kid mamas dreamed about. The kind I wasn’t.

“I’m not even tipsy yet.” I scooted backward anyway. Get comfortable. Ha. Impossible with Colt around. Easier to see the stars this way, though, lying on our backs, gazing up at the heavens. I hadn’t wanted to run my battery down, so I’d shut off the music, but the last tune lingered in my brain. “At least the music at prom was decent.”

“Yeah.” Colt stretched his arms out, shoulders rubbing against mine, familiar and electric. “You’re a good dancer. I think the girls had fun.”

I snorted. “I feel bad for Lulu. At least Betsey got the kiss she was angling for.”

“What are you on about?” Colt rolled toward me, propping himself up on an elbow. “Betsey wanted to show me the summer rodeo schedule. That’s what took so long.”

“You didn’t kiss her?” I narrowed my gaze. Even in the dark, I’d be able to tell if he was lying.

“No.” Colt let out a groan and flopped backward. “I don’t know if I like her like that. It’s…hard.”

“Is it?” I cackled at his unintended innuendo, although the thought of Colt and hard in the same sentence was dangerous territory indeed.

“I’m serious, Mav.” Colt addressed the sky rather than looking at me directly. “How do you know if you’d like to kiss someone?”

And now we’d left dangerous terrain for deadly. I’d wanted to kiss Colt Jennings for at least three years. I’d seen a movie with a gay kiss and had instantly known I wanted to kiss my best friend, but I’d also known it was never happening. How did I know? How did I ever exist without knowing was the better question.

“I’ll tell you when it happens,” I said lightly. And it would happen. Somewhere not here. Someone not Colt. A brick hit the bottom of my stomach, a sick weight. I shifted against the truck bed.

“You’ve never…?” Colt returned to his side, peering down at me like I was some sort of scientific oddity being shown in Mr. Humpert’s biology class.

“Around here?” I scoffed. “Who do you think I’m kissing, Colt?”

“Dunno.” He continued to stare at me, dark eyes way too intense and me way too buzzed for this conversation. “But you’ve wanted to, right?”

Only every damn minute. Especially this one as I watched him take another pull from the bottle of Jack.

“You’re past tipsy now.” I grabbed the bottle from him, took my own sip. My throat burned and my lips tingled. And the iron lock I kept on certain topics around Colt loosened. “When you want to kiss someone, you think about them all the time. How they smell. How they talk. Their laugh. Their hands?—”

Colt made a skeptical noise. “Their hands?”

“Yeah, Colt. Hands are sexy. Deal.” I made a dismissive gesture before flopping back down in the truck bed, head heavy and lips apparently not done yapping. “Anyway, you just want to be near them all the time, even if you can’t touch. Maybe you start to want them so much your stomach hurts.”

“And then what?” Colt loomed over me, eyes as wide as if I’d handed him one of the gold nuggets these hills had failed to yield for centuries.

“What do you mean?”

“And then you kiss them?” Colt’s face, those big eyes, angular nose, and most especially, those wide lips hovered inches from me. Far, far too close.

“What are you on, Colt?” I couldn’t sit fully up because then our faces would bump. Couldn’t gracefully duck under him either, so I settled for glaring up at him.

“Sometimes my stomach hurts around you.” He spoke slowly like he was reasoning something out. “And you smell good. Always. I hate it when you miss school or aren’t around. Never thought about your hands, but you’ve got nice eyes.”

“Colt.” I put a hand over my eyes like that might help me forget that my best friend thought I had nice eyes and smelled good. “Save the sweet talk for Betsey. I’m begging you.”

“I wanna know what it’s like.” Colt’s voice was husky and demanding.

“You? Want me? To kiss you?” I put a question mark on each phrase.

“I think so.” He nodded solemnly, forearms going a little wobbly as he continued to hold himself over me.

“Kinda need you to know so, Colt.” I gave a pained groan. If nothing else, I was going to die by erection soon, if not by my own stupid nobility. “No maybe.”

“That’s my whole problem. I don’t know.” Colt sounded mournful, eyes shiny under all the stars. “I don’t know anything . Not for certain.”

Seeing as how I’d known girls weren’t it for me since forever, I didn’t have the most sympathy for Colt’s uncertainty. I took a deep breath and let it go slowly. Colt—my best friend—was hurting. Confused. Seeking answers. Answers I could potentially give. My stomach clenched.

“Are you gonna hate me in the morning?” I asked warily.

“I could never hate you, Mav. Ever.” Colt had the earnestness only the tipsy could manage. “If I don’t like it, I’ll say. Simple as that. But then I’ll know what kissing feels like.”

“Not sure I like being your experiment.”

“You don’t want me to be your first.” Colt sounded utterly dejected, a sadness I hadn’t heard from him before. “I get it?—”

I cut him off by stretching upward enough to clamp my mouth on his. Your first. As soon as he’d said it, a fire had been lit in me. Spontaneous combustion. Colt Jennings could be my first kiss. I could be his. And it wasn’t the prettiest kiss. We bumped noses. One of us said ow. Might have been me.

But then Colt shifted. Maybe his arms got tired, but his body was more solidly against mine. His mouth softened. Mine did too. I tried again, a little pressure, tried to make it like the kisses I’d seen on TV, sweet, slow. The tip of my tongue darted out to trace his lower lip.

“Oh.” Colt made a dazed sound, gazing down at me through glassy eyes.

“How was that?” I asked, tone guarded.

“Good.” Colt sounded all thoughtful, almost academic. “Real good. Kissing is weird when you stop and think about it, like lips and tongues and shit, but the doing… The doing is real nice.”

“Nice.” I had never been more turned on in my entire life. Spontaneous eruption might be even more likely than combustion at this point. “I’m over here harder than a fence post, and you’re going on about nice.”

“Kiss me again,” Colt demanded. “This time for real.”

“That was?—”

Colt cut off my protest with another kiss. We still didn’t know what we were doing, but at least no one’s nose got broken. He imitated what I’d done with my tongue, so I parted my lips, letting him explore more. His tongue touched mine, and I almost came in my pants. My skin felt feverish, hot and clammy.

Colt made a low, needy noise, so I chased his tongue back to his mouth. He sucked lightly on my tongue, and my toes curled inside my dress boots. I did him one better and sucked on his lower lip. He growled, moving against me. He was hard too, and I needed to do trigonometry in my head to keep from coming in my tuxedo pants. Finally, he pulled away, panting hard.

“Holy hell, Colt. I don’t know what that was, but if you say nice, I’m gonna deck you.”

“I liked that.” Colt’s voice was a revelation, like some old-time preacher talking about the second coming. “I really liked it.” He moved against me again. “I want more.”

“You’re drunk.” I needed to remember that. We both were. He was likely to either forget this or regret it tomorrow.

“Just kissing.” Colt’s tone turned pleading. “Please?”

“Like I can say no to your face.” I groaned, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Gotta do something till one of us sobers up enough to drive.” Colt gave a very uncharacteristic giggle. Yeah. He was drunk, and clearly, I was too because I giggled right along with him.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

“Kiss me again, I hope.” He was so damn earnest.

And even knowing everything had just changed and would change again in the morning, I was powerless to do anything other than continue kissing my best friend under the stars. A dozen meteors could have fallen, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than right here.