I shake my head. Something tells me that it would be prudent to keep my wits about me this evening. Already, I feel myself falling hard, and it’s a scary prospect. All I want to do is pump the brakes. Colton has promised that we would take this relationship slowly. But I’m no longer sure that’s possible, everything seems to be happening at lightning speed.
“I’ll have a water, as well,” Colton says.
Jenna moves to the mini-fridge built into the side of the island and pulls out two bottles of water. I grab the one that is set in front of me before twisting off the cap and taking a sip. Again, I’m afforded another opportunity to observe Colton’s interaction with his stepmother. There’s an easy banter between them. It’s obvious they have a strong connection as she teases him with sparkling eyes. I’ve known Colton for more than a decade, and this is probably the first time I’ve seen him this relaxed. It only makes me realize that even though we spent six months together, he never fully lowered his guard. A pang of sadness blooms inside me at that knowledge.
I’m yanked from those thoughts by the sound of the backdoor opening from down the hall before an older man walks into the kitchen carrying two white bags with the Marco’s logo stamped across them. He sets the containers on the counter and immediately leans over to kiss Jenna. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
With a smile, he greets Colton before pulling him in for a hug. It’s one of those manly types where they clap each other on the back before quickly stepping away. His friendly gaze falls to me. Before I can stretch out my hand for him to shake, he swallows me up in a giant bear hug. Warren Montgomery is a big, burly man. He and his son are similar in height, but Warren is broader in the chest and shoulders. Kind of like a bull. His dark hair and beard have silvered over the years. His eyes, much like his wife’s, twinkle with kindness.
“Hello, Alyssa. It’s nice to meet you. Jenna and I are glad you could join us tonight.”
“Thank you for extending an invitation,” I tell him.
The older man’s eyes flicker to Colton. “It’s not often my son brings home friends from college.”
“Dad,” Colton grumbles as if embarrassed.
Unbothered by the rebuke, he continues, “I heard that you grew up around here, and the two of you attended high school together.” He unpacks a few of the covered containers before spreading them out on the massive island.
“Yes, we did,” I say with a nod.
“I’ve already set the table in the dining room, Warren. Let’s take everything in there,” Jenna cuts in before the remaining food can be unloaded.
We each grab a couple of containers and follow her into the two-story dining room off the kitchen. When all of the dishes have been laid out, we settle on our respective chairs. The table is sleek and black, stretching at least thirty feet in length. There is enough seating for twenty people. Since it’s just the four of us, delicate ivory and cerulean-colored China has been set at one end. Warren takes his place at the head of the table. Jenna settles on one side as Colton and I move opposite of her. Everything is family-style, and we all dig in, helping ourselves to the entrees.
His parents pepper me with surface-level questions throughout the meal. They tease Colton every chance they get. They talk about the upcoming game next weekend, and how they’re both looking forward to cheering him on. If I weren’t so attuned to Colton’s presence, I would have missed the barely perceptible tightening of his jaw.
Jenna turns to me and says, “Hopefully, we’ll see you there.”
I’ve avoided attending football games this season. I’ve been trying to break free from the hold Colton has over me, and sitting in the stands for three hours, watching him on the field, certainly won’t help reach that objective.
“Maybe,” I say lightly.
“You know,” Colton clears his throat before shifting on his seat, “if you guys are busy, there’s no need for you to make the trip. It’s cool.”
Jenna’s brows draw together as she scoffs, “Are you kidding? We haven’t been able to attend any this season.” She glances at her husband. “We’ve missed watching you play. Now that your father isn’t traveling so much, we’ll be able to make the rest of your home games.”
A look of dismay flashes across his expression. It’s there and gone before I can decipher exactly what it means. Even though I get the feeling Colton wants to argue, he jerks his head into a tight nod. “Great.”
As the conversation turns to other topics, I’m aware of the thick tension radiating off Colton. I can’t help but wonder what’s going on with him. Since I’ve returned from my study abroad program, I’ve tried so hard to keep my distance. If people are talking about Wildcats football or the blond wide receiver, I promptly tune them out. Only now do I wonder if there’s a problem.