singly unhappy. I thought watching them together while she was blissed-out in love was hard, but it’s nothing compared to watching him make her so damn miserable.
“Do you want to tell me why Colton’s about to lose his dick?” I ask. “You know, so I can be informed when I suggest alternatives. Or is it just the . . .” I clear my throat. I could go the rest of my days without talking about Ellie and Colton’s sex life and it would be just fine by me. “The dry spell.”
“It’s not just the dry spell. A few months ago, we were seriously considering moving to Florida together. Starting a life there together. Now we barely talk.” She sighs and flips her dark hair over one bare, freckled shoulder before meeting my eyes. “Has he told you anything? About another woman or . . . any other secrets that might explain why I feel like my relationship is falling apart?”
“I wish I knew.” I shake my head. When Colton and Ellie started getting shaky, Colton pulled away from me, too. We both race motocross and use the same team for almost everything, but he’s been off his game—missing workouts and practices, blowing off races, and pissing off all the people who depend on him to make their living. I scan the kitchen to make sure we’re still alone. “You think he’s using again?” The question’s been gnawing at me for months, but there’s no one I could ask but Ellie. I guess I didn’t want to make it real by saying it out loud.
“I think it’s possible. That would explain a lot.” She shrugs. “If he is, he’s hiding it. I can’t say as much for the late-night phone calls with his stepsister.”
“Molly?”
She nods, and her blue eyes fill with tears. “And now she’s moving back to town. You should see them out there—whispering to each other when I step away from the table.”
I blow out a breath. Fuck, Colton. I’ve been working behind the bar tonight to help out Jake, and I saw the way Colton was looking at Molly. The thing is, I didn’t think it was sexual. Colton’s always been attracted to Molly, but tonight was different. More intense. More like they had a secret. “You think they’re involved?”
“I think he hasn’t touched me in two months and barely talks to me, but he’s up at all hours on the phone with her and can’t keep his damn eyes off her. You do the math.”
“What did he say when you asked him about all the calls?”
She bites her bottom lip and folds her arms.
“You did ask him about it, right?” She avoids my eyes—in the same way she’s obviously avoiding this conversation with Colton. I shake my head. “El . . .”
“I mentioned I’d heard him on the phone late at night,” she says. “He said, ‘Sorry. I’ll be quieter next time.’” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I haven’t asked more directly because I’m scared of the answer.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
Her eyes fly open. “I want you to cut off his dick.”
I grimace, resisting the urge to cover my own equipment. “Is there an option B?”
“You’re right. Ugh.” She shakes her head. “I should go back out there and get Colton home before he’s too trashed to talk. Apparently, it’s time to face my fears.”
“Maybe it’s not what you think. Maybe there’s an explanation for all of this.”
“Yeah, like he’s not attracted to me anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not it.”
“Do you have any idea how quickly you feel ugly when the person sharing your bed never touches you? And I’m not just talking about sex. There’s been no kissing or cuddling or anything. It’s like I’m suddenly repulsive to him.”
“You’re anything but repulsive, Ellie.” My words are nearly a whisper, as if crossing this line is less of an offense if I do it quietly. “You’re as gorgeous now as you were the day you started dating him—hell, probably even more so. If Colton isn’t touching you, the problem is with him, not you.”
A blush creeps up her cheeks, and she swallows. “Thanks, Levi. I needed to hear that tonight.” The pink strapless dress she’s wearing is short as sin, creeping up her thighs as she scoots forward to jump off the counter. The less evolved part of my brain wants to look at those thighs again, maybe see if I can catch a flash of what she’s wearing beneath her dress. I don’t. “I promise to try talking to him before I start sharpening my knives.”
“Good. Orange isn’t your color.”
“I’ll see you around.” She hops off the counter and squeezes my shoulder.
Nodding, I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go. Ellie gives me restless hands. Hands that want to touch, to take, to steal what isn’t mine. I’m not that guy anymore, and no matter what I feel for her or how long I’ve felt it, I owe Colton way too much to betray him like that.
Ellie
Colton is quiet on the drive home. I’m behind the wheel, completely sober, and he’s slumped in the passenger seat, somewhere in that la la land between buzzed and drunk.
“Molly’s really moving home?” I ask.
His jaw hardens, and he nods, looking out the window and not at me. Not looking at me has become his specialty lately.