The Consequence of Loving Colton (Consequence 1)
I think I puked a bit in my mouth as Max’s eyes widened in horror.
“No, but thank you, ma’am.” Max backed away. “I’m gay.”
“You’re what?”
“Gay.” Max nodded. “So, very, very”—his eyes pleaded with mine—“gay.”
“Shit.” I put my arm around him and smiled at Grandma.
“But didn’t you just get married?” she asked me.
“Twin.” Max coughed. “That was his twin, er, Carlton.”
“Oh.” Her eyes narrowed. Good thing she was old and senile.
Max nodded and then kissed me on the cheek. “See? Totally not into elderly women with enough strength to hold me down for twelve hours straight while they feed off my beating heart.” He slapped my chest. “I’m all for men!”
Conversations around us stilled.
Max coughed. “To the bride and groom?”
“Please let everyone be too drunk to care,” I mumbled.
“Drat.” Grandma snapped her fingers. “Guess I’ll go take a nap then. Ta-ta.”
I sighed in relief when she rounded the corner and walked down the hall to the bedrooms.
“You can let go of my hand now.” I bit down on my lip. “I mean, unless you’re digging holding it and then hell, who cares? I’m still having sex tonight and now everyone really thinks you’re gay.”
Max’s eyes narrowed as he released my hand and scowled. “Damn Reid. If he was capable of pleasing a woman, she wouldn’t be coming back for seconds!”
“Please don’t ever repeat that sentence again.”
“Damn baby powder.” Max continued talking. “I swear it’s like her tell.”
“Huh?”
“She smells like baby powder.” He sniffled. “I have a theory that she powdered Reid up before she—”
“Please! No more stories.” I held up my hand like a shield, knowing I’d need years of therapy if he finished that sentence. “I may never be able to sleep with my wife because of you. I’ll never look at baby powder the same again.”
“Look.” Max pointed at the couch. “Reid’s back.”
“Reid’s drunk off his ass.” I laughed as Reid held a bottle of tequila to his lips and started dancing in his seat, eyes closed. The champ was probably living the dream. Pain-free. Grandma-free. That was the life.
“All in all”—Max looked around the room—“I think the weekend went pretty good.” He slapped my back. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes.
“Colt?” Milo walked up to us and smiled shyly. “Um, Mom says we don’t have to stay any longer, so . . .” She looked down at the ground, blushing to the roots of her hair.
Max puffed out his chest. “I got this.”
“Max—”
“Let me.” He thrust his chin high into the air. “It’s the least I can do for interrupting you guys in the pool. But dude, for the love, just look at the damn diagram, seriously, one glance won’t kill you.”
“Max—”
“What I do, I do for my friends. Milo, I love you. Now go make babies.” He saluted us, then walked into the middle of the crowd of people and started taking his clothes off.
“Aw, how cute.” Milo laughed. “He’s creating a diversion.”
I smirked as Grandma made her way down the hall; a look of pure evil crossed her features. “Right, and he’s about to get taken advantage of, poor chap.” Inspiration struck, and I gripped Milo’s hand in mine and whispered in her ear, “I have an idea, let’s go.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
MILO
Last time Colton said the words “I have an idea,” I ended up getting frostbite on my ass.
I’d had to sit in a tub of hot water for what felt like days while I thawed out. I was only six so I don’t remember much—what I do remember? The fact that he called me “icicle cheeks” for three years straight after it happened. Never mind that he was the one who dared me to—well, never mind. Water under the bridge.
I gripped his hand and followed him out of the house. “What’s your bright idea? Set Max on fire and make a run for it?”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
Colton’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bad friend.”
“Well,” I huffed, “you’re a bad husband!”
He stopped walking. “Pardon?”
I looked down at my feet. “You heard me. I’m tired, I’m hungry, it’s possible Reid’s going to sue Grandma for improper touching, my brother hates me, and, and, I’m sexually—”
Crap. I stopped talking. I really, really needed a censor for that mouth of mine.
“Sexually?” Colton chuckled. “What?”
“Nothing.” I tried to walk past him but he grabbed me by the shoulders, holding me in place.
“Sexually.”
“Stop saying sexually.” I hissed. The fact that that word was coming out of his mouth while he was touching me, while I wanted to pounce on him, was not doing me any favors—physically, that is.
I felt trapped in my body.
Like a caged animal just waiting to get set free.
See! That’s probably why I inflicted pain on others—it really wasn’t my fault! It was Colton’s! “Aha!” I shouted.