“Nothing good,” he answered. “How did your mom die?”
“Cancer,” I spit out, thinking he’d be more willing to answer my questions if I opened up a little more about my own answers. “When was the last time you saw your mom?”
“About seven months ago. Before that, I was…” He paused to think before answering, “Eight. Did you get to tell your mom goodbye before she died?”
“No, I didn’t. She went crazy delirious at the end. Hallucinated I was the devil come to take her soul to hell. She screamed and threw a vase of flowers at me.” I still had a scar on my forearm where I’d lifted my hands to shield my face. “So I wasn’t allowed in her room the last few days.”
“Holy shit,” Colton wheezed, his eyes growing large. “That had to suck.”
“If your mom left when you were eight,” I started before he could ask me anything else, “who raised you after that? Your dad?”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “No idea who that loser was. Our big brother Noel took guardianship over me and Brandt, and our sister, Caroline.”
“I…I never knew that,” I murmured, blinking wildly as my mind raced. “Wow.”
Brandt had never mentioned how he’d been raised all those times we’d worked together. And here, I thought he and I had been through a couple in-depth conversations. He’d opened up to me about his feelings for Sarah in a way that no guy had ever opened up to me. That was one reason why my crush on him had lingered all these months. I thought I’d seen an integral, intimate part of him.
But he hadn’t really shared himself with me at all, had he?
That was a sobering wake-up call.
“Who raised you?” Colton asked, making me veer my attention back to him and blink myself to the present.
“Oh, uh...” I shook my head. “My dad did.”
“He a good dad?”
Again, it was startling to even be asked such a question. I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
So he nodded too. “Good.”
I wanted to change the subject. I wasn’t sure why. But talking about this made me feel vulnerable. Or something. And it definitely made me feel softer toward Colton, which seemed as if it should be wrong in itself, though it didn’t feel wrong at all. It felt nice and warm and…that should be wrong. Right? I wasn’t supposed to feel good things for Colton Gamble, though for the life of me I couldn’t remember why.
I just knew I needed to stop this.
Change the subject.
Change it to anything.
The first thing that came to mind.
“I have to pee,” I blurted.
Crap, had I announced that out loud?
Colton’s laugh answered my question. “Thanks for telling me.”
Scowling at him, I bolted to my feet, only to sway once I was upright. I reached for my chair to catch my balance. “Stop laughing, jerk, and just tell me where the damn bathroom is.”
“Sure, baby dol
l. Anything for you. It’s uh...down that hall there, and one of those doors to the right. Or is it the left?” He frowned thoughtfully. “Shit, I can’t remember. I’ll just show you.” He pushed to his feet and took my hand.
His grip was warm and protective, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But I wasn’t about to let go.
Because I liked it.
“Are you sure you know where the bathroom is?” I asked once he led me from the main reception room and into a long quiet corridor.