“wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you”—Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley
Lily
“I have no idea what flavors they are,” Colin says as he places a box down onto the coffee table.
The living room is a bit small for ten huge hockey players, and one massive soccer player…and me. Well, maybe the living room itself isn’t, but the sofa most definitely is.
We’re only five people (Wees, Aaron, Zac, Miles and I) sitting on the sofa while the others seated themselves on the floor, and it’s getting a bit crowded. And well, Brooklyn is fast asleep behind her father.
Colin is still standing, as of now. I’m sure in less than a minute I’m going to be sitting on him instead of a comfortable sofa.
“Chocolate, obviously,” Miles states the obvious with some great sarcasm.
“Duh,” Kaiden adds to the conversation.
Colin rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying hard not to make some comment about his friends’ stupidity.
He takes my hands from my lap, pulling me up to my feet. When I’m about to protest, Colin sits down and as predicted, seats me onto his lap.
His arms wrap around my stomach, holding me close to him. “You okay?” he asks quietly so that only I can hear.
I nod, then voice a quick, “Yes.”
“Are you tired?”
I am. I really am. It’s only eleven, yet I’m exhausted. If I wasn’t excited to see some hockey guys rate chocolate, I for sure would have gone upstairs already. I don’t even know what’s so exciting about jocks tasting chocolate, but it just is.
“I’m not,” I lie, “but thank you for asking.”
“Come on, does anyone not know what Hershey’s tastes like?” Wees, I’m still not sure if that’s his actual name, asks, chuckling. He pulls out a box filled with Hershey bars, setting it down on the coffee table.
“This is a chocolate tasting, Ezra”—I guess it’s Ezra then—“we’ll try different ones. Hershey’s clearly should be on the list,” one of the other guys says. I have absolutely no idea who’s talking. Maybe I should have asked Colin for their names.
Miles rips open the box and then opens up one bar, handing one piece to each person. To our luck, we’re exactly twelve people and this Hershey bar has twelve pieces to offer, so there’s no waste at all. Except for the rest of the box, but we’re not talking about that. They’re closed and will be eaten eventually, I’m sure of it.
On the count of three, we’re all eating this one piece. It’s nothing new to either of us.
Some of those guys take the tasting part really seriously, savoring the flavor, opening another bar to get yet another try.
“I’ll rate it two out of five Oompa Loompa’s,” I say, starting the rating. If only I had known my rating would have about nine heads from sports guys turn toward me like I’ve insulted someone.
“What the hell is an Oompa-Padoompa?” Zac looks at me with wide eyes, eyebrows raised and impatiently waiting for an explanation.
“Oompa Loompa,” I correct. “From Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”
“Do we have a chocolate bar from there, too?”
Miles laughs, bringing his hand to his mouth to cover it. “It’s a movie.”
“As if not one of you guys know it?” I look at Colin, praying he’s seen the movie, but when he shrugs instead, I almost fall off him and onto the floor. “We’ll change that once we’re done here.”
After the guys give their ranking, we move on to the next chocolate bar. It takes us good thirty minutes to get through the next three options, simply because Colin, Ezra and Zac take the rating a bit too seriously. They’re analyzing each piece to the gods, comparing them to previous ones. If they were only comparing tastes, it would be understandable, but no, they’re comparing price to volume and all that.
It’s ridiculous, but fun…in some ways. I assume Colin does that mainly to make me laugh, and it does make me laugh. A lot.
Every time he reaches for another piece and makes those tasting sounds—which, by the way, annoy the hell out of me—I can’t help but laugh.
Another half an hour passes, and we’re finally down to the last bar. My stomach is hurting, protesting to try the last bar that’s being handed around right now.
I feel like, if I were to eat one more piece, I’ll explode. The guys seem less like it. In fact, I think they could go on for another hour. I’d love to see how that would play out.
Something about this last piece of chocolate seems off though. Well, not that it’s expired or poisoned…but something tells me that trying this is a bad idea.
When Parker, apparently Wees’s best friend, counts down from three, telling us to hurry up because he wants to try it oh so badly, my brain suddenly starts working, trying to figure out what is wrong with this piece of chocolate in my hands.
It isn’t until Parker reaches the number three that I realize why this is a bad idea.
“Wait.” I wrap my hand around Colin’s wrist, stopping him from plopping his piece into his mouth.
His eyebrows draw together, eyes locked on mine as he waits. I’m sure there’s even some concern for me drawn over his face, but I ignore that. He should be concerned for himself.
“Lily, this is just the same piece of chocolate we’ve tried before. Different taste, probably, different brand, but still just chocolate,” Zac says, chuckling. I’m sure he’s making fun of me in some ways, but I couldn’t care less right now. Especially not when Colin glares at Zac with heat in his eyes, as if he’s telling Zac to fuck off.
Taking the piece of chocolate from Colin, I turn to Miles. “Give me the wrapper,” I demand, holding my hand out. He picks it up and hands it to me, his brows drawn together just like everyone else’s.
I check the wrapper, reading every single word until I find what I’m looking for. It takes me a hot minute, but then on the back, written in the tiniest font size I could think of.
“It contains coconut,” I mumble, mostly to myself. “Why didn’t they write that information right on the front?”
Maybe it’s unreasonable to get angry at this, but I do get angry. I know allergies, especially nut allergies can turn into a matter-of-seconds kind of situation.
How many people with allergies must have eaten this, thinking it’s milk chocolate because that is what it says on the front of the wrapper?
And the worst bit, you can’t even smell the coconut. Maybe that’s also good? Considering that some people just have to smell the product they’re allergic to and trigger it.
“You don’t like that?”
Ignoring whoever just asked that, I look at Colin, seeing his dumbstruck expression. I want to touch his face, but I doubt that’s such a great idea, so instead I stand up, take his hand and force him to the next bathroom with me.
He doesn’t talk, which is unusual because Colin usually speaks a ton when he’s around me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, starting to panic. What if it’s already too late and his airways are about to clog up and he’s going to die? “Can you breathe?”
He nods lightly, so lightly I barely see it.
“Colin, you need to speak to me, please.” I don’t think I’ve ever begged someone to speak to me. “Should I call an ambulance?” Fuck it, I might do it anyway, just to be sure he’s completely okay.
“You—”
I grab my phone from my back pocket, struggling to unlock it with my Face-ID. Why is it that whenever you’re in a rush your phone just doesn’t want to corporate?
“Lily,” I hear Colin say, at the same time as water starts to run. I think he’s washing his hands. Typing in the emergency numbers, I’m about to dial when Colin takes the phone from me. “I’m fine,” he says, lifting my chin up so that our eyes meet.
A light breeze of air hits my face as he sighs. When he places his other hand to my face, tracing his thumbs underneath my eyes, only then do I notice tears running down my face.
Why am I crying? Lord, what is happening?
“Sweetheart, I’m alright,” he speaks softly, calmly. His voice is flat and low but reassuring. “I’m alright,” he repeats. I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
“You could have died,” I mumble, once again, to myself, but of course he hears it.
Tears continue to slip past my eyes, running down my cheeks. The thought of Colin dying is too absurd, too much to think about, too painful to think about.
What would I have done if he ate it? What if he would have died?
The only source of light in my life can’t die on me. Colin can’t die on me. He can’t die even if he wanted to. Not ever. Okay, maybe of old age, but even that is almost crossing the line.
I need to get a grip. I can’t feel the way I do about Colin. It’s not fair to him.
Sure, Colin didn’t want me to die right from the start, but this is not about him dying that’s bugging me so much. I mean, I don’t want him to die, but the pain I feel just thinking about his death…that’s what’s bugging me.
The way my heart shrinks and my lungs tighten when I think about losing this guy. The way my head starts to hurt, and my eyes begin to water when I think about never seeing him ever again.
“Colin?” I sniff, still crying.
“Please stop the tears, mi sol, my heart can’t take those.” He wipes the couple of drops away as quickly as they came, just that they keep on coming. “You’re breaking my heart, Lilybug. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
You’re breaking my heart by saying these words, Colin.
A knock appears on the door, followed by someone asking, “Everything alright?” I don’t recognize the voice, but I’m sure Colin does.
“Yup, all good.” Colin talks a bit louder as to when he talked to me before.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” the guy informs Colin, I guess.
Colin shakes his head but of course his friend can’t see through the door, so he speaks. “No, it’s alright. I don’t need one, Wees.”
Oh, Wees, aka Ezra.
“You sure?”
Colin sighs, chuckling slightly. He seems annoyed by people caring about him. That’s quite ironic given that this guy cared, and still cares more about me than my mother ever truly has, right from the start.
As he walks off to open the door and speak to Ezra face to face, I use that time to wash my hands, freeing myself from any kind of coconut remains.
“The guys have cleared the room from everything coconut, so you’re safe to come out,” I hear Wees say, followed by a quiet chuckle from Colin.
“I figured you’d call some more people in and ask them to bring coconuts.”
“I was thinking about it,” Wees laughs, “just to mess with you. But the risk wasn’t worth it.”
“I’m alright, Wees, I promise. I didn’t smell it, and even if I did, I don’t think it would have caused me to die. I don’t react to smell, just the intake of it.”
“That means, hottie saved your life.” I bet Wees is smiling cockily.
“Her name is Lily.”
“Everyone deserves a nickname.”
Drying off my hands as a distraction, I try to stay calm before I’d punch Wees in his average-looking face. Okay, who am I kidding? This guy is handsome, and I thought he was nice…before those words left his mouth.
“Lily has one, in fact, I have a few for her. She doesn’t need any more, especially none that are based off of her appearance.”
In a matter of seconds, Colin reaches out for my hand and pulls me to his side, wrapping an arm around me like he’s just offered himself to be my own personal shield. Which he is. I know he is. Colin wouldn’t let anyone do me wrong, I just know he wouldn’t.
“Could you tell everyone to go home. I think I need some time on my own. You know, dealing with the fact that I almost died.” Colin’s grip on my waist tightens, but not in an uncomfortable way, quite the opposite. It’s comforting.
Ezra nods. “On your own, with your girl.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t bother me. Like you said, my girl.”
Damned if that doesn’t have my cheeks heat up, feeling as though fire is tingling on my skin. For some reasons my body loves that feeling of fire on my skin now. It happens a lot with Colin around.
As much as I keep telling myself that I can’t let Colin get this close to me, that I can’t keep hurting him any more than I already did, I can’t seem to stop it.
It’s like this man is giving me some kind of strength that I never knew was possible to receive. He’s not only a light bulb, shining some brightness into the clouded space that is my life. No, he is the whole sun. Giving me light, warmth, helping flowers grow through rainy days.
I don’t even notice when Ezra leaves and Colin leads me upstairs into his bedroom. Or I subconsciously crawl into his bed and throw the covers over my body. It’s not that I’m tired, maybe I am, with Colin so close to me, I stay in my head and don’t even notice what I’m doing until I am.
“Mi sol, you should probably change into something more comfortable before going to sleep.” I hear him rummage through his closet.
Sending a silent prayer that Colin is about to hand me one of his shirts to sleep in, I allow myself to watch him looking through his clothes.
I love his scent. Colin smells like rosewood most of the time—every single day—and yet the scent that is Colin never passes me. He always smells nice, warm and comforting. I never even knew someone could smell comforting until I met Colin.
Maybe it’s some broken piece in my brain that says he smells comforting, but then again, I don’t mind it. Colin gives me comfort at all times, even when I don’t want him to. Just knowing he is here—with me—not letting me go without a fight, feels right, peaceful.
And as if my prayer has been heard, Colin throws a shirt right into my direction, landing on my head. He laughs, filling my chest with some weird warmth. A warmth I grew so familiar with.
I pull it down, making sure to savor the smell of Colin. It brings an immediate smile to my face, to my broken and shaken soul.
Not caring that Colin’s eyes are on me, my body, I lay the shirt down in front of me and start to strip off my own. The gasp that rolls over Colin’s soft lips when I sit on his bed in just my bra and jeans quickly turns into a low toned groan when my hands reach behind my back, unclasping my bra.
To put up a show for Colin—as I pretend, I wouldn’t know he is staring with hunger in his eyes—I stretch. My back arching, pressing my breasts a tad more into the air.
Avoiding Colin’s eyes, which I’m sure are more focused on my breasts than my eyes, I pull his shirt over my head, slowly lowering it over my breasts, then pull it down over my stomach a bit quicker.
Couldn’t have him think I did all this on purpose.
My eyes follow his body as he walks over to my side of the bed, coming to a halt next to me. Colin removes the blanket from my legs, then gently, yet firmly, tugs on them, causing me to lie on my back.
I don’t question him. I wouldn’t dare to do so. Colin could do whatever he wanted with me for all I care. Okay, maybe that’s a bit exaggerated. But right now, I would let him do anything. Except for maybe bad stuff, like…drug me.
Feeling his warm hands on my body sends another wave of comfort through my veins, just like his laughter had before. To my displeasure, it also leaves me craving him.
My breathing quickens when Colin pushes my shirt up until my stomach is freed again. Anticipating his touch, I’m disappointed when he bends down and plants a kiss to my stomach, then undoes the button of my jeans, pulls down the zipper only to remove my pants from my body. The second my jeans are no longer on me, he tugs on the shirt, covering me up.
Grunting, I roll my eyes at him when I figure out, he only collects my clothes from the bed and isn’t about to jump me.
Why do I even care? Colin and I aren’t supposed to go at one another like rabbits. We’re supposed to be friends, and nothing more than just that.
He is supposed to try and convince me that I want to stay alive—which we all know won’t really work anyway.
We’re not supposed to have some kind of friends with benefits arrangement. And yet I’m longing for his touch. Longing for the sweet relief I know he would give me.
“What’s that movie called again?” I hear him say but my mind is still elsewhere.
My mind is still focusing on his hands on my body, skimming, gliding, caressing every inch. His lips on mine when our tongues meet. His hips pressing against mine, his erection pressing against my core right before he leaves me breathless, oblivious.
“Lilybug?” He sounds amused. Oh God, have I said all those things out loud? My eyes meet his and I’m sure my face is turning red when he grins at me knowingly. “The movie? With these chocolate figures.”
I can’t help my chuckle. “They’re not chocolate figures. They’re Oompa Loompa’s.”
“Oompa Loompa, Hoompa Poompa, Chocolate Shooter. It’s all the same thing. What’s the movie called?”
“Did you just say, ‘Chocolate Shooter’ to ‘Oompa Loompa?’” I laugh, genuinely laugh.
He shrugs. “I might have. Name?”
“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
Less than a few minutes later, Colin is in bed with me, pulling me close to him when the movie starts to play on his TV.
