The Consequence of Loving Colton (Consequence 1)

“Be right back.” I ran up the stairs and opened the door to my childhood bedroom. Pictures of Justin Timberlake and Harry Potter littered my wall. Ah, memories.

I rummaged through my drawers and located the diary, stuffing it as far underneath my mattress as I could. Tomorrow I would burn it. Tonight I would read it, and then I would forget Colton for good. But before all that . . . before I gave up . . .

I was going to wear a dress.

And he was going to kiss me, damn it! I’d done nothing but try to forget him for the past four years and all it took was ten minutes in his presence and I was ready to jump back on the Colton bandwagon. Suddenly this weekend was about more than my brother getting married, it was also about me finally getting the thing I’d wanted since I knew I liked boys. One kiss and I’d be able to bury my diary along with the rest of my desires for Colton. I just wanted one instance where he saw me as something other than his little sister. I deserved it and I was going to take it.

CHAPTER THREE

MILO

“Milo! Dinner!” Mom called from downstairs. I quickly brushed out my hair and put on some clear lip gloss. I checked myself in the mirror. My long, golden-brown hair hung past my shoulders in loose waves. I had on a pair of ripped jeans topped by a white t-shirt that fell off my shoulder, revealing the tan I’d been trying to perfect for the past month in hopes of looking hot for my brother’s wedding. My brown, almond-shaped eyes stared back at me with too much hope in them. Yes, I wanted to say aloud, we’re doing this. Operation Get Kissed is officially a go. I ran my hands down my torso and took two soothing breaths. The outfit looked good, it showed off my athletic build. Plus I was showing skin, not a lot, but enough to make him wonder . . . at least I hoped.

“Coming.” With one final glance in the mirror, I ran down the stairs and collided directly with a firm chest.

“Hungry?” Colton looked down at me; his hands moved to my shoulders to steady me. Instinctively, I looked at his lips and licked my own.

He pulled away and laughed. “Watch where you’re going, squirt.”

I stuck out my tongue and went to my usual chair at the table.

“So, Milo.” Dad folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “How’s your senior year?”

“Yeah . . .” Colton smirked in my direction. “You still majoring in . . . what was that again? Cartoons?”

I rolled my eyes. “Art, with a minor in graphic design.” I had to force myself to keep from sticking out my tongue again in self-defense. After all, he knew exactly what I did.

When he’d asked me to do a tattoo in honor of his father—I’d cried. I was so embarrassed. I mean, his dad had died saving people’s lives on 9/11, and instead of crying, he was comforting me.

“What do you want?” I whispered through my tears.

“Something that represents strength, honor, love . . .” His voice trailed off as he reached up and wiped the stray tears from my cheeks. “I trust you, Milo. I’ll love whatever you come up with.”

My breath caught in my throat. We were so close, I wanted to lean in; I wanted to feel his lips—just once—against mine.

“Anyway.” He chuckled and looked away from me. “I’ll pay you or whatever.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You won’t pay me. I’m your friend.” Crap, that word felt bitter. “It’s what friends do.”

“Right.” He sighed, and repeated, “Friends.”

“A favor from a friend,” I said, trying to make it sound better.

“Thanks, Milo.” He let out a sigh. “Thanks a lot.”

He had left. And that day I’d cried some more, not because of the refreshed grief but because I felt like I was constantly in limbo with him, so close but so far away, and I hated that it always seemed like if anything was going to happen, I would have to be the one to take the first step.

“Milo? You hear anything I just said?” Jason threw a dinner roll at my face.

I felt my cheeks heat. “Uh, sorry, just tired from the drive.”

“It’s an hour and a half,” Colton teased. “Then again, you drive slower than my grandma, so—”

I aimed the roll at his wide grin and launched. Take that! The golden bun arched through the air on the perfect track to annihilation, but instead of its impacting my target, Colt intervened, snatching it out of the air and taking a huge bite, his perfect mouth taunting me with each chew. Yeah, good luck getting that particular image out of my mind for the next ten years. Perfect teeth, biting into a soft roll. I shivered and looked away. Great, so rolls did it for me now. Nice.

“Colton,” Mom scolded. “Be nice, she just got done with finals. Besides, you said you slept in until noon today—at least she isn’t lazy.”

“He slept in till noon because he was on call all night,” Jason defended his friend, and then held up his hand. “Roll me.”

Colton tossed the roll.

And so went our normal-ish family dinner. It saddens me to report that I ate at least three helpings of mashed potatoes—all because they were right in front of Colton and every damn time he passed them our fingers brushed.

Maybe Max was right. I needed to either seduce him or abandon the whole idea that he could see me as a potential girlfriend.

I groaned.

Out loud.

“Too many potatoes?” Colton winked from across the table.

“Starving college student.” I patted my stomach. Yes, patted it like a frat boy after too many beers. “You understand.”