Falling Fast

“Do you have someone you’re interested in?” she asks, and instantly Gia comes to mind. Gia, with beautiful green eyes, cute dimples in both cheeks, full lips I want to taste, long dark hair I can picture spread across my pillow, and curves in all the right places. Gia, who likes to knit and turns adorably embarrassed whenever I get too close to her. Yeah, there is definitely someone I’m interested in.

“That’s not the point,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.

“When you start having a woman over here, I’ll start knocking,” she mumbles, pulling things out of the bags, setting them on the counter, and placing all the empties in a pile.

Taking a bite of the eggs on my plate, I shove a piece of bacon into my mouth then pick up my plate and walk around to the sink, saying, “I can also do my own shopping.”

“I was already at the store.” She shrugs, not looking at me. “I figured I’d just pick you up some stuff and save you the trip.”

“Ma, I love you, but I need to be doing shit on my own,” I tell her softly, watching her shoulders sag.

“Watch your mouth. I swear, you, your brothers, and your dad could make a sailor blush.” Smiling, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hug.

“You curse more than all of us together,” I say, and it’s not a lie. My mom has a mouth worse than most men I know.

“Whatever.” She tightens her hold on me then looks up. “And so you know, as your mom, it’s ingrained in me to take care of you.”

“I know, and I appreciate you taking care of me, but it’s important that I get back to some sense of normal,” I tell her gently, when I see tears start to fill her eyes. I know her seeing me in the hospital half dead fucked with her, but I didn’t die.

“Fine,” she agrees reluctantly.

Kissing the top of her head, I let her go and turn back to the sink. “Where’s Dad?” I ask, washing my dish out and setting it in the drying rack.

“At the storage building. The truck came in this morning, so he’s been there doing stock since six.”

“He should have called me.”

“He knows you worked late last night,” she explains, and I cross my arms over my chest then lean back against the counter behind me watching her put stuff away. “I also ran into Lisa this morning.” My hackles rise at the mention of that bitch, but I keep my mouth closed. “She was asking how you’re doing,” she says softly, putting a gallon of milk in the fridge.

“I don’t want to hear from that cunt, so next time you see her, you can tell her I said that,” I growl.

Looking at me, her eyes close briefly. “Honey, it was hard on her, on all of us,” she whispers.

“Yeah, was it?” I raise my brows as blood roars through my veins, making it hard to see clearly. “She wasn’t the one laid up in the hospital. She wasn’t the one who had to learn how to walk again. And she sure as fuck wasn’t the one who saw their future slip through their fingers. That bitch doesn’t exist to me, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t bring her up to me again.”

“Colton!”

“No, Ma.” I jerk a hand through my hair, looking away from her and trying to get myself under control so I don’t flip the fuck out. “I know you liked her, but she is a fucking bitch.”

“Okay,” she whispers, looking like she’s going to cry again.

“Come here, Ma.” I hold out my arms toward her.

“Are you still mad?” she asks, and I sigh, tugging her hand and forcing her into my hold.

“I’m not mad at you, but you need to understand I don’t want one fucking thing to do with her.”

“Stop cursing! And fine, I’ll stop bringing her up.”

“I love you, but seriously, I don’t know how Dad puts up with you.”

“Your father counts his lucky stars every night, ‘cause I put up with him.” She pats my back.

“I’m not sure about that.” I grin then dodge her hand when she tries to smack at me.

“You’re a pain,” she mutters.

“You love me,” I remind her then look at the clock. “I need to go get ready. I’ll see you tonight. Let Loki out for me when you leave.”

“Will do, see you tonight.” She shakes her head as I head for my room.

After getting dressed, I head back to the kitchen, grabbing my keys and gym bag before going to the garage. Looking at my bike longingly, I head for my Suburban. This spring has been worse than most. It’s rained almost every day, and with the temperature dropping the way it has been, the roads have been icing over—meaning I can’t ride my bike, even though that’s all I want to do. I’ve been riding since I was eight. Back then it was dirt bikes, and then I moved up to motorcycles. My first ride was a bike. I didn’t get a car like everyone else. I didn’t want to be like anyone else, except maybe my dad.