Broken Saint (Seattle Saints #1)

31. Colton

31

COLTON

“ W hat the fuck is that on your face, Bro?” West barks as I finally accept his call.

He should be as busy training as I am, seeing as we’ve got a game on Sunday, but when I grabbed my cell from my locker, I already had a handful of missed calls from him.

I knew why.

I’d ignored his last few messages, and he wanted details.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already spoken to Ella and knows everything.

Lifting my hand, I attempt to scrub the smile from my lips.

But I can’t fucking do it.

Kane, Luca, and the guys have been ribbing me about it all day.

“Fuck off,” I mutter. “You’d be smiling too if you’d experienced what I had. Not that you’re likely to. When was the last time you got laid, exactly?”

“I’m not here to discuss me,” West snarks. “I’m here to discuss you and El.”

I swear, the second he says her name, my smile gets wider.

Or at least it does for a few seconds, because then reality hits, and everything, including my lungs, depress very quickly.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning closer to the camera with a frown on his face. “Don’t you fucking dare drop her, Colt. I swear to God, if you fucking hurt her again, I will get on the next plane and?—”

“I’m scared,” I confess quietly.

West begins to say something, but then he thinks better of it.

“What if…and I…”

“Colt,” he breathes before dragging his hand down his face and slumping back in his own driver’s seat. Something tells me that we’re sitting in the exact same place, only a few states apart.

A pang of longing hits me out of nowhere as I think about the last time I saw my little brother. It wasn’t all that long ago, before preseason started for both of us. But fuck, I miss him.

Growing up, he was one of my best friends. But unlike the others, he was always there—sometimes annoyingly so—no matter what, or how shitty our lives got. My one constant. And I’m not sure I’ve ever let him know just how much that meant to me back then.

“I get it, I really fucking do, but you can’t let fear rule your life and stop you from having something incredible—that you deserve—with Ella. Hell knows you guys have waited long enough.”

“I know,” I groan, slumping lower in my seat. It’s as if my biggest fears in life are literally pushing on my shoulders.

“Just tell her,” he states as if it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world.

“West,” I warn.

“What? It’s Ella. You should have told her a long time ago. Hell, I should have, but I was being loyal to my asshole brother.”

“Love you too,” I mutter.

“Colt, Ella loves you.” I can’t help but scoff, unable to accept that it might even be a possibility. “Don’t do that,” West chastises. “She’s loved you for years, and you know it. You were just too stubborn to accept or do anything about it.”

I want to argue, but I can’t. I am a stubborn asshole. But I don’t see that as a bad thing. It’s got me where I am right now.

I stare up at the blue and yellow Saints logo that’s sitting proudly on the side of our training facility.

As a boy, this was all I wanted. Every single game I played, every training session, every injury I battled through…all of it was to get here. To walk out on that field and stand on the giant SS in the middle.

That first day after I signed my contract, I walked out through the tunnel to an empty stadium and just stood there.

Fuck. It was the best day of my life.

Everything I’d planned and worked toward had finally paid off.

It was only overtaken by our first game.

The sound of the crowd as I ran out in Saints blue, my name proudly on my jersey just like Dad’s had been all those years ago.

I thought I’d found my home.

Little did I know, the stadium wasn’t really my home. Just a stand-in for when the real one returned to me.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be sitting here talking to West about what I should be doing, reminiscing on how I got here. All I want is the woman who is in my penthouse right now waiting for me.

“Colt? Colton,” West snaps, dragging me from my thoughts. “Jesus, you’d better not be fantasizing about being between Ella’s thighs while talking to me.”

A smirk twitches at my lips. “Jealous, Bro?”

“Ella is yours, man. I would never?—”

“I didn’t mean her. I meant a woman’s thighs generally. You remember what that’s like?”

“There is nothing wrong with being focused. We don’t all want to be photographed every other day with a different woman.”

“It’s been ages since that happened,” I argue.

“A few months at most.”

“That’s a long time.”

“For a dog like you, yeah.”

“If all you’re going to do is slut shame me, I’m hanging up.”

“I’m shaming no one.”

“Bro, go and get laid. It’ll make you play better if your balls aren’t so heavy.”

“Not advice I remember Dad ever giving us, but okay.”

“He doesn’t know everything,” I say with a smile.

“And neither do you. Tell Ella, Colt. She’ll understand.”

I blow out a pained breath, hating that he’s right.

Every time I’ve even thought about what has always held me back with her since she arrived in Seattle, I’ve known that it’s got to happen.

Even if this doesn’t go anywhere—even if she turns her back on me because the reality of a future with me is too much to handle—she deserves to know the truth. To understand the reason I always held back. Why I’m so fucking terrified.

“Yeah,” I agree after a long, silent moment.

“Trust her, Colt. She’s good people. If there’s anyone you want on your team, it’s her.”

“I know. I’m just?—”

“Scared?” he interrupts, repeating my confession from earlier. “Trust. Her.”

“I had other things I wanted to do with her tonight.”

“I’m sure you’ll find time to squeeze it all in,” he teases.

“It is a tight fit,” I muse. “Fucking good, though.”

“Okay, I’m done. I’ll talk to you later, okay? You got this.”

“Thanks, Bro. See you on the weekend, yeah?”

“You got it. I’ll be the one beating your ass.”

“Whatever,” I scoff before cutting the call and sitting up higher.

Trust her.

Should be easy, right? It’s just Ella.

By the time I get back to my building and pull into the underground garage, my heart is in my throat. What I’m about to do is terrifying.

Every single reason why I shouldn’t confess has flickered through my head on the way here. But as much as I might want to latch onto one of them and run with it, I know I can’t.

West is right. Ella deserves more from me.

She deserves to know everything before she makes her decision about her future.

If she can’t hack it, then it’ll fucking break me. Watching her walk away would be up there with the worst thing that could happen to me. But at least I’d know. It’s got to be better than her walking away when the inevitable happens.

Blowing out a calming breath, the elevator doors open, and I hesitantly walk up to my front door.

From the second I left this morning to the moment I answered the call to West, all I could think about was coming home to her.

But that one phone call changed everything.

I’m still excited. Hell, I’m more than excited to see her. But now I’m nervous in a way I wouldn’t have been before.

Before giving myself another chance to second-guess myself, I unlock the door and throw it open.

Now or never, Rogers.

Man up and trust her, or run away like a pussy.

The apartment is silent as I step farther inside, and it makes my heart beat harder for a completely different reason.

I didn’t once question whether she’d follow my orders and wait for me. I just assumed she would.

But what if she didn’t actually want to be here? Didn’t want to wait to see me after practice?

Just because her life has gone to hell in a hand basket, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any kind of life. She has friends here. Friends she probably wants to spend time with instead of sitting around in my apartment, waiting for me to return.

Fuck.

Lifting my trembling hand, I rub at the back of my neck.

I’m such a fucking asshole.

I really thought that?—

A voice comes from the direction of the bedroom and I startle.

Hope blooms within me as I take a couple of steps closer.

“Ella?” I call, my voice sounding all kinds of desperate.

Nothing.

“El?”

“Y-Yeah. Wait there. Just give me a minute.”

The second her soft voice floats through the air, relief floods me.

She’s still here.

She waited.

“Uh…okay,” I call back, dumping my bag next to the couch as my impatience begins to get the better of me.

I missed her more than I thought possible today. Now that I’m home, all I want is her.

There’s movement in my bedroom before her shadow appears in the doorway.

“El, are you hiding from me or—oh shit,” I breathe, my eyes impossibly wide as I take her in. “Fuck, Bombshell. Fuck, I?—”

She stands there in the doorway to my bedroom in one of the sets of lingerie I chose for her from the driver’s seat of my car this morning before I managed to drag my ass in for training.

I wanted to do something nice for her. Something that would make her feel good, sexy. And…okay, selfishly, I wanted her to look fucking hot.

But fuck. The image in my head as I looked at the models on the website is nothing compared to the real thing.

As I stand there motionless, failing to find my words, Ella begins to lose her fight with her confidence.

Her shoulders begin to droop and curl in and her hands twitch, slowly lifting, ready to cover her belly.

“Perfect,” I force out through my dry throat. “Fucking perfect.”

Surging forward, I step right up to her, cup her face in my giant, still-trembling hands and slam my lips down on hers.

Fuck what I need to tell her. It can wait a little longer.

Licking across her bottom lip, I wait for her to open for me.

“Bombshell,” I growl as my hands slide down her body until I’m able to grip her hips and haul her into my body.

Her legs wrap around my waist as I press her back against the wall.

“No, put me—” Her argument is cut off when I plunge my tongue into her mouth.

I kiss her until my lungs are burning for air and my cock is aching with need.

Ripping my lips away, I suck in a deep, greedy breath as I gaze at my girl.

Her lips are swollen, her eyes are glassy, her pupils are blown with desire, and she’s wearing my favorite of the sets I chose.

So fucking perfect.

“I missed you so much,” I breathe, barely able to catch my breath.

"Colt,” she whispers.

“And you’ve no fucking idea how much I appreciate you waiting for me like this.”

A smirk curls at her lips. “I think I can feel how much you appreciate it. I was so nervous. I waited until the last minute because I knew I’d talk myself out of it otherwise.”

“I’m so fucking glad you didn’t. Best part of my day by far.”

“Oh baby, we’re only just getting started.”

Shifting her around before holding her up with one arm, I manage to shove my sweats over my ass, letting my dick spring free.

“You’re already wet for me, aren’t you, Bombshell?” I growl, staring her dead in the eyes. “You might have been nervous, but the anticipation got you hot as hell, didn’t it?”

She stares at me through her lashes before biting down on her full bottom lip.

“Dirty girl,” I muse before managing to tug her panties to the side. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Knew it.”

Dragging my dick through her folds, I coat myself in her juices before nudging against her entrance.

“Colt,” she moans, her muscles tightening, desperately trying to suck me deeper.

Lifting her a little higher, I slam my lips against hers before punching my hips forward and filling her in one move.

Home.

This is home.