m out of here.”
“Sit, look at the stars, forget about the rest of the ship for a while. You ’ re on a cruise and I bet you haven ’ t even looked out at the water yet.”
“Now that ’ s the pot calling the kettle black.” Another sip and the bubbles tickled her nose as she watched the stars sparkle above them, brighter than they ever looked in Miami even on the darkest night.
“Only because you ’ re such a hard-nosed task master.” He clinked his glass against hers. “If the promotion thing doesn ’ t work out, you should talk to Coach Carter. He ’ d love your approach.”
They sat, relaxed in each other ’ s company, as one glass turned into three and the soothing sound of the ocean washed away the barriers between them. Angie felt them erode with each story about the prank wars during the Thunder training camp and her explanations of the many dating profiles her mother insisted on creating and monitoring for her.
“Sorry I threatened to throw you overboard,” she said.
He cut his eyes at her. “You didn ’ t.”
“ Oops. ” She giggled. “I must have said it only in my head.”
“It wouldn ’ t be the first time someone threatened to knock some sense into my thick skull,” he said. “My dad was the master of getting just what he wanted using only a look.”
“That ’ s a good trick. For me it ’ s my mom. That woman gets an idea in her head and I ’ m helpless to shake it back out. I guess all mothers are like that though.”
He shook his head, his lips forming a tight, straight line. “Wouldn ’ t know, my mom disappeared early on in my life.”
“Disappeared?”
“Meth.” Colt stared straight out past the balcony, but there was no way he was seeing the ocean ’ s gentle waves. Whatever image had grabbed ahold of him was darker than the ocean at its deepest depths.
She reached for him, but he stood from his chair before she could make contact and he began to pace the small balcony, every step rigid with suppressed emotion. “I ’ m sorry.”
He shrugged then downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp. “She ’ s still out there.” He palmed the empty glass and drew back his arm as if he was about to fling it over the edge, but at the last moment set the flute down on the small table next to her chair. “My pops hears from her every once in a while. Usually when she ’ s doing the Narconon during her latest stint in jail and is at the apology step.”
Colt stood next to her, a giant block of a man, so hard and yet vulnerable. He didn ’ t ask for comfort. She doubted he even knew how.
“And after that call?” The question hung in the air between them like a poisoned balloon with a leak. Her heart ached for him. Her mom was a handful, to put it mildly, but at least she was there. She reached up and slipped her fingers between his and tugged him down to sit beside her. “What about your dad?”
“He taught me everything I know.” He lay back on the chaise, somehow angling his muscular frame so there was enough room for both of them to lay beside each other, and wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in tight against him.
Heat radiated between them, but not like in Vegas. That had been mindless passion…attraction…lust…there were a thousand different names for it. This was different. It squeezed her lungs tight, making it hard to breathe because it took up so much space. The desire that always raged between them was there like the tip of an iceberg, but underneath the waterline there was so much more to it, and it scared her out of her mind.
“If it wasn ’ t for Pops, ” he went on, “I wouldn ’ t be in the league, and without that I wouldn ’ t be anything but another poor kid living in a doublewide in Nowheresville, Alabama.”
She turned so they were face-to-face on the lounge chair, the position allowing them for once to see eye to eye. “You ’ re wrong. Even if you were still in the doublewide, you ’ d still be someone amazing.
“Sit, look at the stars, forget about the rest of the ship for a while. You ’ re on a cruise and I bet you haven ’ t even looked out at the water yet.”
“Now that ’ s the pot calling the kettle black.” Another sip and the bubbles tickled her nose as she watched the stars sparkle above them, brighter than they ever looked in Miami even on the darkest night.
“Only because you ’ re such a hard-nosed task master.” He clinked his glass against hers. “If the promotion thing doesn ’ t work out, you should talk to Coach Carter. He ’ d love your approach.”
They sat, relaxed in each other ’ s company, as one glass turned into three and the soothing sound of the ocean washed away the barriers between them. Angie felt them erode with each story about the prank wars during the Thunder training camp and her explanations of the many dating profiles her mother insisted on creating and monitoring for her.
“Sorry I threatened to throw you overboard,” she said.
He cut his eyes at her. “You didn ’ t.”
“ Oops. ” She giggled. “I must have said it only in my head.”
“It wouldn ’ t be the first time someone threatened to knock some sense into my thick skull,” he said. “My dad was the master of getting just what he wanted using only a look.”
“That ’ s a good trick. For me it ’ s my mom. That woman gets an idea in her head and I ’ m helpless to shake it back out. I guess all mothers are like that though.”
He shook his head, his lips forming a tight, straight line. “Wouldn ’ t know, my mom disappeared early on in my life.”
“Disappeared?”
“Meth.” Colt stared straight out past the balcony, but there was no way he was seeing the ocean ’ s gentle waves. Whatever image had grabbed ahold of him was darker than the ocean at its deepest depths.
She reached for him, but he stood from his chair before she could make contact and he began to pace the small balcony, every step rigid with suppressed emotion. “I ’ m sorry.”
He shrugged then downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp. “She ’ s still out there.” He palmed the empty glass and drew back his arm as if he was about to fling it over the edge, but at the last moment set the flute down on the small table next to her chair. “My pops hears from her every once in a while. Usually when she ’ s doing the Narconon during her latest stint in jail and is at the apology step.”
Colt stood next to her, a giant block of a man, so hard and yet vulnerable. He didn ’ t ask for comfort. She doubted he even knew how.
“And after that call?” The question hung in the air between them like a poisoned balloon with a leak. Her heart ached for him. Her mom was a handful, to put it mildly, but at least she was there. She reached up and slipped her fingers between his and tugged him down to sit beside her. “What about your dad?”
“He taught me everything I know.” He lay back on the chaise, somehow angling his muscular frame so there was enough room for both of them to lay beside each other, and wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in tight against him.
Heat radiated between them, but not like in Vegas. That had been mindless passion…attraction…lust…there were a thousand different names for it. This was different. It squeezed her lungs tight, making it hard to breathe because it took up so much space. The desire that always raged between them was there like the tip of an iceberg, but underneath the waterline there was so much more to it, and it scared her out of her mind.
“If it wasn ’ t for Pops, ” he went on, “I wouldn ’ t be in the league, and without that I wouldn ’ t be anything but another poor kid living in a doublewide in Nowheresville, Alabama.”
She turned so they were face-to-face on the lounge chair, the position allowing them for once to see eye to eye. “You ’ re wrong. Even if you were still in the doublewide, you ’ d still be someone amazing.
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