Into the Tomorrows (Bleeding Hearts Book 1) (6 page)

I took in what he was saying, let it fill me up. I loved Colin—that wasn’t a question in my head. I didn’t fill up with all that love while just looking at him, but it was there, nonetheless. It wasn’t romantic, but it held a tenuous grip on me all the same.

Because I may have been heartless when it came to my relationship, but I had once held real, deep feelings for Colin. And while I knew I’d cling to my safety sooner than I’d cling to a reconciliation—I wanted to give him a chance so he wouldn’t have regret.

I’d taken six years of his life. I could give him a few weeks to see the reality of our situation.

Ellie’s death was more than a lesson against drugs or a moment of breaking for my relationship, I told myself. So I nodded to Colin and he held me as the sun fell over the mountains, kissing me hard, as if he was trying to prove his determination with a press of his lips.

We kissed for several minutes and his hands roamed my body and my hair, touching me everywhere.

I didn’t feel it where I should. But, God, I wanted to.

For his sake. Not for mine.

Because I needed safe.

* * *

W
hen we arrived
to his apartment, Colin hauled in my suitcase as I carried the box of Ellie. His apartment was at the base of a steep hill that was stacked in front of a much larger mountain.

Colin pointed to the first door in the hallway. “That’s Jude’s room.”

I hadn’t met him, but I knew him to be one of Colin’s roommates for the last couple years. The last two years that I hadn’t traveled to Colorado had meant not seeing Colin, but also not meeting the people in his life.

As he moved down the hallway, he placed his hand on another door. “This is Mila’s room.” He paused and gave me a smile before he pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, bringing me into his bedroom. I plopped my box on the bed and looked around the room, sparsely decorated apart from the large black headboard and TV stand against the opposite wall.

“Don’t worry, we’re all three very neat.”

He said it as if I’d been thinking it, but I hadn’t. I just nodded and offered a small smile, wrapping my arms around my waist.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

There was a weird turmoil in my head, asking me to humor him even though I didn’t care. But as he’d kissed me against the sunset, I’d made a silent promise to give him a chance to fix us. And I’d see it through, right until the end, before I packed up my things and hit the road. I told myself that as I watched him rifle through his DVD stack by the TV.

He was asleep ten minutes into the first movie, leaving me blissfully alone to shut my brain off. It wasn’t until then that I realized I’d been schooling my features to keep him from seeing my melancholy.

Slipping from the bed quietly, I walked back to the living room where my laptop was and curled up on the couch with it.

I shook when I closed my laptop.

I crawled into the bed quietly, hoping not to wake him from sleep. Colin had always been a deep sleeper—so deep that more than once I’d pinched his nose to see if he was even breathing. It’d been a game back then, me pinching his nose to wake him up. Back then, he’d initially been annoyed with me before saying something about how it was my fault he was awake, and I’d need to make him tired again.

I’d always rolled my eyes when he said that, even as he’d rolled over and on top of me, arms gripping my forearms as he stared at me intently.

So now, this was new. Not having him to roll to. Part of me wanted to slip between the cool sheets quietly, pulling the blanket up to my chin. But another part of me craved to feel something.

“Are you awake?” I asked.

“No, I sleep with my eyes open.”

“I can’t see them.”

I was afraid of his body, in a way, but I wanted to be soothed by it. I rolled to my side, facing him. I touched his shoulder and pushed gently.

“Are you giving me a massage?”

“No.” My hand slid down his chest, over the lightly toned muscles before his hand stopped me.

He laughed and shook his head. I watched the dark curls jiggle from the movement, sliding across his pillow. “I’m tired.”

I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt from that. He’d never said that to me, especially after we’d been apart for so long.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, letting a small, sleeping sigh escape his lips.

“Talk to me.” I hadn’t meant to command him, but I wanted to know what he was thinking.

“How’s your grandfather?”

As I thought of how to answer, Colin pushed me off of him. “What’s wrong?”

“I said I’m tired, Trista.”

I touched his chest again. It was a little desperate, but I needed connection. His hand came to mine again and I waited once again, for him to push me away.

Instead, he sighed, sounding resigned. His fingers moved down my arm, came to rest at the crease where my arm was bent.

“Your skin is so soft.”

“Come here,” I whispered.

He rolled onto his side, but looked as though he was talking himself into it.

His hand brushed the hair away from my face and I closed my eyes, remembering how he’d done it a thousand times; the movement itself was so practiced that my face curved into his touch and reacted the same way it always had.

“You’re so pretty, Trista,” he said, speaking the words he always used. Colin was the only person I’d ever been with, but I guessed that most men had a playbook of things to do and say when it came to sex. The same words and same moves all guaranteed the same outcome. I was an actress sometimes, remembering my lines and my movements

I sat up and pulled him with me, so we were sitting up on his bed facing each other. His eyes were on me and I hoped he wasn’t waiting for me to meet his gaze. I grabbed the hem of my tank and lifted it up and over my head, tossing it across the room with barely any effort.

I shivered. Colin always kept his room cold, at least ten degrees cooler at night. And sitting up, half naked, in fifty-seven degrees made my skin pebble and my arms fight to cross over my chest. But I stayed completely still, even as he ran a finger up my arm. “Soft,” he repeated.

Needing warmth, I pulled his shirt up and over his head. My fingers found his shoulders and I squeezed, encouraging him to come closer. Hands moved up and over the muscles of his arms and shoulders before I brought my hands down his chest and over the faded scar that ran several inches below his neck downward.

He’d told me once that he’d needed surgery for an accident, but never elaborated on it. And against his pale skin, the scar had a pearl-like quality about it. The new skin shimmered and I touched it softly.

His hand gripped mine and I looked up at him. “Lay back,” he said in whisper.

I felt the tingle then. I lowered myself to the pillows, keeping my eyes on him, as my blood simmered. This was the Colin I missed. Whatever was absent from my heart, I still found him desirable.

“Just like that,” he whispered, watching me as I leaned back. He climbed over me slowly and I couldn’t look away from his face as he lowered until he was horizontal over me, hands braced by my shoulders.

His mouth lowered and he pressed his lips to me. I surprised myself by angling my head up to press more firmly into his kiss. He was always kissing me like that, lightly, as he was afraid to put too much pressure on me.

“Mmm,” he murmured against my mouth. My hands came up to his chest, gripping the sides of his body. The muscles under my fingers clenched and he lowered himself closer, until we were just inches apart.

His head moved down my body, planting kisses down the center of my chest, between my breasts and all the way past my belly button. He gripped my hips and kissed the skin between my belly button and the hem of my panties.

The ache between my legs was strong, thrumming like a heartbeat. I nearly crossed them, to give myself some relief, but then Colin grabbed the edges of my panties and pulled them down. I lifted my lower body, giving him a chance to remove them. He dragged them down my legs slowly, before climbing off of the bed and removing his pajama pants.

I turned my head to look at the clock as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer. It was two-sixteen in the morning, and I wasn’t nearly tired yet.

The bed dipped as he climbed back onto the bed and my body rolled with it. He placed a hand on my bare hip and gestured for me to turn onto my stomach.

I rolled, my breasts flattening against the mattress, as his weight came down on me. A hand snaked between my legs, flicking my clit and then quickly dipping inside of me before pulling out. I groaned quietly, not wanting to be teased. And as the groan died on my lips, he was inside of me.

He grunted and his hand moved up under me, encouraging me to raise up off the bed. He palmed one of my breasts as he thrusted against me.

I felt my thoughts escaping this—and I couldn’t explain it. I should be in the moment with Colin. Each time he thrust, my back arched instinctively, but my mind was already thinking about how it was good that we weren’t face to face. Because I wasn’t sure what my face would tell him.

Over and over, he slid into me. His movements increased and while I knew my body was climbing toward a release, I couldn’t stay mentally with Colin. It was like my thoughts were in a fishbowl, and I was plucking them out one by one. The disconnect from him was so significant that my body began to backtrack its climb.

I squeezed my eyes tight and grabbed the hand he had cupped to my breast, covering it with my fingers as I encouraged him to hold me a little tighter.

I’m slipping away
, I thought.
Let me go.

But just moments later, he stilled, his fingers flexing into my hips as he released.

And moments after that, he climbed off of me and walked into the adjoining bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on before I let myself roll onto my back.

My fingers trembled. I’d been close initially, but then my mind had taken over, pulling me further from Colin and further into myself. The disconnect between us was deep enough to drown me.

I watched the light from the bathroom door, only partly closed. I listened as he brushed his teeth, the whirr of the mechanical toothbrush and then his spitting.

And when the light flicked off, I closed my eyes and waited silently as he returned.

The bed dipped when he climbed into it and I kept my breathing even, my body still.

But I didn’t need to pretend to be asleep for long, because seconds later I heard his light snoring.

After opening my eyes slowly, I immediately looked to the clock. Two-twenty-two. Six minutes.

I listened to his breathing, to the sound of the breeze outside the window. To the creaks in the bed when Colin rolled over. I heard my heart beat; steady, easy. I wanted something that made my heart pick up, thunder in a storm. But my heart stayed calm, beating a different rhythm from his breaths.

I wondered if Colin’s efforts to reconnect with me would mean I’d start to fill up what was empty within me. That this would backfire and instead of giving him the chance for him to finally see we were nothing but shells, I’d fall for him all over again.

The last time I looked at the clock before I fell asleep, the time said three-thirty-one.

And I’d felt no deeper attachment to Colin. I was still safe.

I
woke up first
, so conditioned to waking up before my grandfather to prepare his breakfast and set out his meds.

Colin and I had moved to opposite sides of the king-size bed during the night and I tried not to analyze that so much as I pulled on a sweater and exited the bedroom.

I smelled bacon as I padded down the hallway and quickened my steps to find a very tall, deeply tan man in the kitchen.

At first I just stared. His back was to me, so I took the opportunity to take in all his muscles and the ink that hinted on his left arm, spanning across his back, as he worked over the stove. He was wearing gray flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt. I must have made a noise because he turned around quickly, spotting me on the other side of the breakfast bar.

“Oh, hello,” he said. His voice was warm, a little husky. My gaze skipped nervously over the ink I saw on his chest—but gave little attention to—and moved up his neck to a jaw that was covered in a short, groomed beard. I kept moving up, over full lips and defined cheekbones and brown irises.

I was speechless for a moment, and quickly looked away from his eyes. He had long lashes, heavy lids. If I had to describe his eyes, I would have said they looked soulful, sleepy. And that sounded embarrassingly silly to me.

His gaze was on me while the bacon popped in the pan. The longer we stood there, with his eyes on me and my eyes on the wall, the longer I felt supremely uncomfortable. “What are you staring at?” I asked, finally looking at him again.

He sniffed and his eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed like a hundred years before he spoke. “Just waiting for you to say hi back.”

I ground my teeth. “Hi back,” I managed, though my tongue was thick and heavy in my mouth.

Virile. That’s what he was. From the rounded biceps, the tight lines in his stomach to the short beard and the very singular gaze he was returning. Had a man ever looked at me like that? So entirely focused?

He looked down for a moment, long black lashes brushing the skin under his eyes. And when he looked up, he nodded at me once before turning back to the pan. “Hungry?” he asked.

Frowning, I took a seat at the breakfast bar. “You’re offering me food and you don’t even know who I am?” I hesitated only a moment. “I’m Trista.”

“I figured you were. Either that or a terrible burglar.” He looked over his shoulder at me, his features relaxing into an easy smile. “I’m Jude.”

“I figured you were Jude,” I said, repeating him. “Or Colin’s live-in cook.”

“Well, I’m pretty much that too,” he said with a laugh as he used tongs to pull the bacon off the skillet and onto a waiting plate lined with paper towels. “Are you hungry?”

I wasn’t until I’d smelled the bacon. “Yeah.”

“Yum!” The voice came from behind me and I spun around, startled, met a pair of golden brown eyes. The woman behind them smiled. “You’re Trista.”

I nodded once, watched as she walked into the kitchen and patted Jude’s back. Her hair was long, straight, black like Ellie’s. With her tanned skin and dark hair, she reminded me so much of my best friend that the ache was like a dagger dipped in acid, plunged into my belly. My hands clutched the granite countertop, trying to keep my heart from pouring out of my mouth.

“Hello,” she smiled at Jude, and then I noticed her accent. She reached for the bacon and managed to snag a piece before he gave her a steely glare. She leaned over the counter, elbows resting on the granite, staring at me. “I’m Mila,” she said, pronouncing it mee-LAH, with an accent I decided sounded Australian, accentuating the “lah” of her name. “One of the roomies.”

“Oh, hi. I like your accent,” I said and Jude looked at me over her head and rolled his eyes dramatically. I was confused by his reaction.

“Yup,” she replied, grinning as she chomped through her slice of bacon. Her teeth were shiny and white, her lips a pretty pink color. She looked like she belonged on some tropical island, climbing palm trees and throwing spears into schools of fish.

When Jude turned around and pushed her away from facing me, he said, “You’ll have to excuse the animal. She hasn’t managed to grasp the concept of manners just yet.” Mila and Jude exchanged a look and I was even more confused.

“Are you” —I pointed a finger between them— “together?” I was confused by their dynamic, by the way Mila tried unsuccessfully shoving Jude aside so that she was directly in front of me.

“Oh, gross,” Mila said with a very pronounced curl of her lip. “He’s my brother.” She jerked a thumb at Jude and swiped another piece of bacon before dancing away.

“Oh.” But I was even more confused. “And you’re Australian?” I asked, looking at Mila.

Jude sighed, leaned on the counter so he was considerably closer to me. “No, Mila’s a voice actress. She likes to try out her accents on unsuspecting people, to see if they believe it.”

Mila’s eyes glittered with humor and she pumped a fist into the air. “And I did it!” She pushed Jude completely out of the way so she was facing me again, leaning on the counter across from me. “So how long are you here for?” It was then that I saw the similarities between Jude and Mila, with her tanned skin, long black lashes and full lips.

“Not sure.” I glanced at Jude as he turned and resumed flipping bacon on the skillet. “For a while, at least.”
Nothing to go back to in Wyoming
.

“Cool.” Mila pushed off the counter. “Well, I’ve got shit to do today.” She reached around for another slice of bacon, but Jude snapped the tongs at her and she jumped back. “Fine. But save me some, pretty please, dear older brother.”

“I’ll think about it.” When she was out of hearing distance, he asked me, “Are you a vegetarian?”

I laughed. “No way.”

“Good, because I’m not sure my heart could handle this much bacon myself and I want to make sure it’s all gone before she demands more.” He gave me another smile over his shoulder. “Sleep well?”

I nodded, not wanting to say anything else as he stared at me like that, so focused, as if he was listening to my words but monitoring my face for my expression too. It was easier to lie with your lips than your eyes, and I wondered if that was something he knew too.

I kicked myself for not even checking my reflection in the mirror. And I mentally kicked myself again for thinking that, because I shouldn’t be worried about my looks around Jude when I was dating his roommate.

Jude turned back to the stove and I relaxed. “Is Colin still asleep?”

“He is.”

“Are you going camping with us this weekend?”

Whoa, change of subject. “Uh…I…”

“Did he not tell you about it?” Jude turned completely around to face me. I averted my gaze to the counter top so I didn’t linger too long on his chest.

“No.”

“Well, a bunch of us are going up for a three-day hike. It’s fun. You should come.”

With that, I met his eyes again. “You don’t even know me; why do you think I should come?”

“Are you allergic to fun?”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling my hormones finally chilling out. “Of course not,” I said, but I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t remember the last thing I did for fun.

“Then,” he said, holding a hand out as if it was that easy, “come.”

“Come to what?” a voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to see Colin standing in the doorway from the hall. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he approached us, nodded at Jude before reaching down and giving me a kiss. I reminded myself that Colin was my boyfriend and I was here to fix us as I leaned into the kiss, closing my eyes and letting the warmth from his touch cover me. But still, I knew I was overcompensating.

I told myself I wasn’t attracted to Jude.

I told myself a lot of things that weren’t true.

“Camping,” Jude said, holding the plate of bacon out to us. I picked up a slice and held it pinched between my forefinger and thumb. “She’s coming, yeah?”

I looked up to Colin because it was better than staring at Jude’s chest. “Camping?”

Colin held Jude’s stare for a minute before looking down to me. “I don’t think you’d enjoy it.”

I maintained eye contact with Colin to the point where it was almost uncomfortable. “Why not?”

“It’s outside.”

I gave him a look that held annoyance, because he didn’t know me well enough to decide I didn’t like being outside. “Is Mila going?” I asked.

“No.” I blinked, waiting for him to continue. “Have you ever gone camping before?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

I hadn’t, and I wasn’t sure if Colin knew that or not.

Before I could speak, Jude interrupted. “When was the first time you’d gone camping, Colin?”

Colin’s eyebrows drew together in thought. “I was probably ten or so.”

Jude held a hand out again, like he was offering something to Colin. “You didn’t know whether or not you’d enjoy it until you went for the first time, correct?”

I watched the veins in Colin’s neck strain against his skin. “I suppose not.”

“Then how can you know she wouldn’t enjoy it if she hasn’t experienced it?”

Colin turned to me and seemed almost reluctant in his invitation. “Come camping with us.” It certainly didn’t have the same effect that it had when Jude had said it.

I took a bite of the bacon, chewed thoughtfully. “Well, I might as well.” I swallowed and looked him in the eyes. “Since I just came all this way for you.”

Colin turned away from me then, his absence replaced the arm he’d had around my shoulders and I suddenly wondered if I’d agreed to go camping in haste.

In the six years since Colin and I had started dating, we’d never actually lived together or done any kind of activities for an extended period of time. Going camping meant twenty-four-seven time with one another. It would be the first test of whether or not we could fix us.

Which was probably why Colin hesitated inviting me.

* * *

C
olin took me shopping
, having me try on gear and feel sleeping bags and even though we were inches apart the entire time, I could feel the frigid blast from the emotional distance he’d put between us. Somewhere between canteens and bug spray, I put my hand on his arm.

“Did you not want me to come?”

He looked at my arm and sighed. I swore I felt his arm relax under my fingers. “What if you’re miserable?”

“Well, what did you expect me to do for three days while you were gone?”

He shrugged. “I figured you’d get a much-needed break from me.”

“Break? I’ve been here a whole day.”

“We haven’t spent any considerable amount of time together since high school. You might get sick of me.” He turned to me and looked genuinely worried. “What if you hate camping?”

“Then I go home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Home?”

I knew he was asking where was home for me now that I was more or less a vagabond at the moment. I shrugged. “I don’t know where home is yet.” Colin threw a handful of things into the cart and continued on. “Mila seems cool,” I casually said.

He looked at me, searching my face as if he anticipated something else. “Yeah, she is.” He looked down at the flashlight he held, reading its packaging. “But she’s too busy working to go camping this weekend.”

“Does she go a lot? With you guys, I mean?”

Colin didn’t look up from the flashlight, just grabbed batteries from beside it and checked the packaging again. “I guess. Usually.”

“You’re preoccupied.” It was an observation, not a question, but he answered it anyway.

“I love camping,” he burst out, dropping the flashlight and batteries into the cart.

“Okay…?”

“And if you hate it…” his voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his hair. “Well. If you hate it, we’ll figure it out.” He steered the cart toward the front of the store. “Maybe you have some adventurer in you. Regardless, if you come up the mountain with me, you won’t be able to say you don’t know me well.”

I didn’t know him well now. So I hoped he was right.

“And if I don’t like what I see?”

He seemed genuinely perturbed by the idea, his blue-green eyes dulling in their brightness. “Then we’ll figure it out, like I said.”

But that’s not what he’d wanted to say, I knew. He wanted to tell me that we wouldn’t work, which wasn’t surprising to me at the moment. So much was wrong between us that I couldn’t see what was right.

“We can always be friends,” I said softly.

He wouldn’t look at me then, just quietly led me to checkout and swiped his card before I could pull out cash for my purchases. It wasn’t until he was loading his Jeep with our purchases that he said, “Friends aren’t in love with one another.”

I nodded, but said nothing. What could I say?

If Ellie hadn’t died, would we have stayed together?

If you could go back in time, would you have chosen me again?

And, the question that plagued me the most:
What if you find out, that while I love you, I’m not in love with you?

The questions would remain unanswered, because he’d never hear them from my lips.