Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

30 - Rebecca

          I took the sketchbook with me. I didn't know why, but the next thing I knew, I was locking my office door with the sketchbook tucked under my arm and a million ideas going through my head. I still had so many and I didn't know where they had come from or why I was feeling them. My good mood, maybe? Flattery? I didn't know. I passed the designers packing up to go as I walked out. Some of them looked surprised to see me, unaware that I had been here to start with. BCG was staring at me curiously and Jax was looking at me hopefully. I glared at them both and moved a little faster towards the front door.

When I got to my car, I heaved a big sigh. Unfair. It was unfair that everything I had run from in the past couple of years of my life was coming back to me now. It was chasing me before, had me caught now, and... what, in the future? The thought of designing had been drilled into my head for so long that I didn't know if I could escape it again. Why did I take the sketchbook?

I pulled up at my apartment and was suddenly grateful that Colby distracted me from absolutely everything. Taking my sketchbook with me — it was mine now — I darted up to my apartment and slammed the door shut behind myself. I listened out, hearing the shower. Of course he was already awake.

I dropped the sketchbook on the coffee table with my phone and keys and walked to the kitchen, intent on eating some dinner before I went to Colby's house to see his friends again. I was sure Tara was anticipating my return, waiting to see if I really was still alive. As I was turning the stove on, two arms wrapped around my waist and a face dug into my neck. Colby kissed my skin, snuggling. I had to smile, just for a second, then I elbowed him.

"I'm hungry," I said harshly.

I felt him smirk. "Me too."

I elbowed him again.

"Alright, geez." His voice was annoyed now.

I clenched my jaw, breathing in a sigh. I was rude. I should apologise... I couldn't apologise, so I just kissed him for a second and turned back to start cooking.

"Is that your version of sorry?"

I hummed. "I don't apologise."

"I realise."

I glared slightly at him.

"Becks, just come here for a second. Don't start the night off badly." Colby sounded annoyed, but pleading, and the look on his face was killing me. So I finished what I was doing and walked to him. He was sat on a stool. I stepped inbetween his legs, tilting my head up. He kissed me lightly, a hello rather than something hungry.

His voice had a hard edge when he spoke, though. "How was the studio?"

"Aggravating."

He looked a little happier. "Why?"

"I really liked the design — they based it off of me."

His nostrils flared.

"Don't start with that," I snapped.

"I told you... I don't like Jax," he said matter-of-factly, huffing.

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Do you think that I would ever go for him? Even if he went for me?"

Colby didn't answer.

"Exactly. So don't, Colbs. You just asked me to start the night off well."

"Okay, I'll try to forget how much I want to kill Jax."

I bit the inside of my cheek as I got closer to him. He knew exactly what I was silently saying, that I wasn't going to let that happen and that he needed to control himself. He just read it on my face. And he sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist to tug me as close as he could.

"You're going to have to keep me in check," he muttered, staring into my eyes.

"I'm aware."

He kissed me gently, rubbing circles on my back with his thumbs. He looked defeated again, realising that this was going to be hard like I was. But the benefits were starting to shine through every time we saw one another. I pulled back when my stomach audibly rumbled, and Colby chuckled at me. I punched his arm — partly playfully — then walked back to the stove.

"What are you cooking?" he asked, laying his chin on his arm, which was now resting on the island countertop.

"Bolognese, I think. I'm starved."

He frowned. "Haven't you eaten?"

"No, I was incredibly distracted. But it's okay because I can catch up now."

Colby silently watched me as I cooked for us. I made the proportions larger knowing that I was going to be having quite a lot after how long I'd waited to eat. There was a silent question in the air about tonight — when we would go — but I wasn't prepared to ask it yet, and neither was Colby. We both liked the alone time. Eventually, we were sitting side by side at my island with filled plates. Colby ate with only one hand, resting the other on my thigh. I let him, enjoying the heat that flowed through me from it. And the tingles. The tingles always felt good.

We finished dinner about an hour later, but were still quiet. I even did the dishes in silence before, finally, I whipped around to face him. He saw the question.

"When are we going to your place?" I asked, leaning against the counter behind me, my hands spread either side to support myself.

He bit his lip, looking down. I supposed he didn't mean to. "I don't know."

"We are going tonight," I said sternly.

"I know," he said through a sigh. He threw his head back to stare at the ceiling for a long second, his chest rising and falling calmly. And then he looked at me. "I like being alone with you. I don't know what I'll be like when I'm with my friends."

"I'll keep you in check," I promised — because I knew I would.

"I doubt that'll work."

I raised a brow.

"What?"

"It'll work, trust me." I walked up to him and used the footrest of the stool for leverage, easily climbing onto his lap. He pulled me closer, holding me up so that I didn't fall.

"I want it to work," he whispered, but I didn't think he was just talking about tonight. I placed my hands flat on his chest, arched my back, and kissed him. He kissed me back lightly, hesitant with the thoughts in his head.

When I pulled back, I saw the determination set over his face. "Alright. We have to go at some point."