Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(67)

I shrugged. “Because you’re human.”

A bitter laugh spilled from him. “A little too human tonight. I can usually read her better. I can tell when she wants space or when she needs me around. I guess she wanted space tonight, except I tried to be there. Big mistake.”

“But a fixable one,” I reasoned. “From what I heard, neither of you said anything that couldn’t be taken back. You’re still… tonight was a hiccup. That’s all.”

“Yeah, but how much longer is this shit going to last? The therapy sessions haven’t worked. The medicine hasn’t worked. Nothing I do works. I just want my wife back. My children want their mother. I want…Jesus f*cking Christ, I hate this. I hate being so f*cking worthless and helpless to her. I hate not being able to fix anything. Why does nothing I do help her?”

When he couldn’t speak anymore, emotion clogged my veins before I cleared my throat and shook my head. “I don’t think what you’re doing is worthless. I think maybe it is working. You are helping her. But maybe all the stuff that’s been fixed on the inside just hasn’t started showing results on the outside yet.”

Noel didn’t immediately answer. He waited a quiet, contemplative moment before saying, “Maybe. I hope so.” Then he lifted his gaze to me. “Thank you, Colton. For everything. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you tonight. You saved the day.”





JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 20





I only received those three text messages from Colton on Saturday morning. I don’t know how, but they kept me full of hope and promise and excitement throughout the entire day, and yet they didn’t…because I wanted more from him.

It was like reading a really good book. I wanted to rush through it because I wanted it all now, and yet I wanted to draw it out and make it last for as long as possible because I didn’t want it to end.

The damn boy was conflicting my heart.

I ignored the little warning bells clanging in the back of my mind, telling me how bad it was to count on and look forward to my next encounter with him because it wasn’t serious between us, we weren’t starting anything long-term. But I didn’t want to think about that. So I didn’t.

I was still rocking my afterglow all through Saturday. I even smiled during karaoke night at the bar. And I smiled as I fell asleep that night when I got home from work.

The next morning, I woke with a grin because my phone was chiming with a new message. Not sure how I knew it was him, but I did. I was even sure I knew what it’d say.

And I was right.





I replied:





And then ran my fingers over the screen where his name was displayed at the top.

He quipped back:





And that was our communication for the day.

I didn’t realize I had the phone pressed to my heart until I was leaving the bedroom with it. Blushing hard, I hurried it back to my nightstand to set it down, cleared my throat, and made my way to the kitchen.

Theo was the only one stirring. He grumbled a halfhearted greeting from where he stood leaning against the counter and hovered over the coffeepot that was still brewing as he bit into a piece of toast.

“Morning,” I chirped, unable to stop smiling until I opened the cabinet to pull down my special loaf of wheat bread so I could make myself some toast too. The bag was still there, but it was empty save for a few crumbs.

Mouth falling open, I turned to gape at Theo as he swallowed the last piece of my bread. He’d never eaten my bread before. I don’t think he even liked wheat bread. “What…?” I started, completely confounded.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said with his mouth still full as he lifted his hand to his bulging cheeks. “Was that your bread?”

I blinked, still confused. “You know it was my bread,” I said slowly. He’d seen me eat that bread every morning he’d ever stayed overnight with Tyla.

“My bad.” He shrugged and dropped his hand, smirking. “I could’ve sworn you only took it white these days.”

I gasped and slapped his arm. “You f*cking son of a bitch. How dare you?”

He laughed and dodged away from me, only to grow serious a few seconds later. “For real, Juli? What the f*ck? If you were that hard up, you should’ve just said something. I know plenty of black guys who would’ve agreed to hook up with you.”

“Oh, well thank you so much,” I sneered sarcastically. “I didn’t realize I was so freaking lame that you were willing to set me up with just any benevolent guy handing out pity f*cks.”

“Hey, anything would’ve been better than you picking up some white jackass. I mean, seriously. It’s f*cking embarrassing. What am I supposed to tell my crew when they ask about how one of my girl’s roommates is f*cking a—”

“Yo, man, leave her be,” Chad chastised as he came shuffling into the kitchen, bare-chested with his track pants hanging low on his waist. “The guy can’t help what color he is.” He went straight to the coffeepot where it had just finished brewing and poured himself a cup. “My momma’s half white and dad’s a quarter Filipino. I have relatives all over the color spectrum, and honestly, we’re basically all the same. We smile when we’re happy, cry when we’re sad, eat when we’re hungry, and sleep when we’re tired. Juli did nothing wrong, so stop hating.”