Fueled

by K. Bromberg

  “Paradise is most definitely not the word I’d use to describe it,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off of Colton. “Try a sinking ship without life preservers and a whole shitload of issues.”

  “Everybody’s got issues, honey. Too bad he doesn’t swing my way because I could definitely take care of any mommy issues he may have by making sure he tends to my big daddy issue if you catch my drift.” He wags his eyebrows playfully.

  “Eew gross!” I slap his shoulder but burst out laughing. I can’t help it. It’s the first good laugh I’ve had in weeks, and it feels good to just let go.

  “I have a feeling there are going to be fireworks in St. Petersburg, and it’s nowhere near the fourth of July.” Dane snickers.

  I have a serious case of the giggles, my catharsis over my pent up emotions happening at the oddest time, and several of the boys look at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. “Okay...c’mon you guys,” I say, struggling to contain my laughter, “it’s time to cut the cake.”

  Everyone gathers around the table, Shane sitting in front of the cake as we light the candles and sing to him. His face full of excitement when he closes his eyes to make his wish, and I wonder what it is he is hoping for. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying a piece, so I slip inside to bring the ice cream back to the freezer and clean off the knife. I shut the freezer door and jump out of my skin when I see Colton standing there in the kitchen.

  “Who’s the Brit?”

  “Jesus! You scared me!”

  I keep my hand on the refrigerator handle, unsure what to do as we just stare at each other. Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve wished that I could rewind time and take back those three little words that I’d said, but I realize right now in this moment—as he stands before me so achingly beautiful inside and out—that I don’t think I would. I did love him. I still love him. And he needed someone to tell him so that at some point in the future he can look back and accept the fact that he is worthy of such a love. I just don’t know if I’m willing to stick around and accept the pain that I’m positive he’ll inflict on the person willing to assert such a notion.

  “Sorry.” He smirks halfheartedly, but the smile never reaches his eyes. Rather, I sense irritation and impatience from him. “Who is he?” he demands again, and there is no masking his annoyance now. “Is he with you because you sure looked cozy? You moved on awfully quick, Rylee.”

  Every part of me that sagged in relief at seeing him here tonight is now bristling with irritation. Who the hell does he think he is coming here and accusing me of having a date? If he thought this was the right way to start our conversation, he’s sadly mistaken.

  “Seriously, Colton?” I roll my eyes using Shane’s word, not wanting to deal or spend the time to assuage Colton’s fragile ego. When he just stands there and stares at me, I relent for the sake of not making a scene despite the jealous, alpha-male tantrum he’s throwing. “He’s a counselor here.” I huff out.

  He angles his head and stares at me, muscle ticking in his jaw, eyes piercing. “Have you fucked him?”

  “That’s none of your goddamn business.” I sneer at him, anger rising as I try to brush past him.

  He reaches out and grabs my bicep, holding me in place so my shoulder hits the middle of his chest. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my arm and hear his uneven breathing as I stare straight ahead. “Everything about you is my business, Rylee.” A disgusted snort is my only response. “Did you?”

  “Hypocrite. Unlike you, Ace, I don’t make a habit of fucking the people that work for me.” I tilt my chin up and look into his eyes to let him see the anger, hurt, and defiance brimming in mine. The grimace he emotes on his otherwise stoic countenance lets me know I’ve made my point. We just stand like this for a moment, staring at each other. “Why are you here, Colton?” I eventually ask with resignation.

  “Shane invited me to his birthday party.” He shrugs, taking his hand from my arm and shoving both hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I couldn’t let him down just because you refuse to see me.”

  What can I say to that? How can I be mad at him for being here, when he’s here for one of the boys?

  “And because…” He runs a hand through his hair and steps back while he struggles to figure out what to say next. He blows out an audible breath and is about to speak again when Shane comes barreling into the house.

  “We’re going to…open presents now,” he finishes after looking back and forth from Colton and me, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he tries to figure out the dynamic between the two of us.

  I inhale deeply; glad to be saved because I don’t think I’d made my mind up on what to do just yet. My heart tells me I want to listen to him, understand what happened, and figure out where to go from here. But my head, my head tells me, “Quack.”

  “Presents!” I repeat as I walk out of the kitchen and brush past Colton without acknowledging his comment.

  Shane’s excitement is more than contagious to the rest of us bystanders as he opens his gifts. His eyes are full of excitement, and his smile reflects a teenager who feels loved. I stand on the fringe of the crowd, watching the action and reflecting a bit on what a good job we’re doing here with these boys. It’s odd how sometimes it just hits you, and right now is one of those moments. I lean against the beam of the patio cover as Shane lifts his last present up and shakes it as the little ones yell out what they think it might be.

  It’s a flat rectangular box that I hadn’t seen on the table before, and I take a step closer to see what it is, my curiosity getting the better of me. Shane rips the paper off and when he opens the box, a card slides out. He turns the card over in his hand, and when he sees nothing on the envelope, he shrugs and tears it open. I watch his eyes widen and his lips fall open as he reads the words inside. His head snaps up and he searches the partygoers to meet Colton’s eyes. “Seriously?” he asks, incredulity in his voice.

  I’m curious as to what’s written in the card and my sight focuses on Colton’s as a shy smile spreads across his lips, and he shakes his head, “Seriously, Shane.”

  “You’re shittin’ me?”

  “Shane!” Dane snaps out at him in warning, and Shane’s cheeks turn red as he blushes at the reprimand.

  Colton laughs out loud. “No, I’m not. Keep your grades up and I will. I promise.”

  Still mystified as to what the two of them are talking about, I ease out of the shadows and walk up to Shane. He holds the card out for me to see. The card is a typical birthday card, but it’s the penmanship inside that makes my heart flop.

  Happy Birthday, Shane! What I remember the most about turning 16 is wanting desperately to learn how to drive…so this card entitles you to driving lessons—from me. (I get to pick the car though…and the Aston is off limits). Have a good one bud. –Colton

  I look down at Shane who still seems like he can’t believe that a famous race car driver has offered up to be his behind-the-wheel instructor. And I see in his eyes the self-worth that Colton has given him in this one offering and bite back the tears that burn my throat. He doesn’t offer him something of material value that he can buy easily, but rather gives Shane something much more valuable—time. Someone to look up to. Someone to spend time with. Colton understands these boys so well and what they need at what times, and yet he can’t comprehend what I need and how I feel about what I walked in to.

  Shane gets up and walks over to Colton and shakes his hand to thank him before passing the card to everyone to show them what it says. I look away from observing Shane to see Colton silently watching me. I just shake my head softly at him trying to convey my appreciation for his well thought out gift. He holds my gaze as he slowly walks over to me. I bite my bottom lip in hesitation. My body is filled with a civil war of emotions, and I just don’t know what to do anymore.

  Colton places his hand on my lower back, the contact sending my nerves dancing even more than they already are. His signature scent envelops me, and
I reflexively part my lips, craving the taste of him that I’ve missed so much.

  He leans in to me and asks for the second time tonight, “Can we speak for a moment?” His rasp fills my ears and the warmth of his breath feathers over my cheek.

  I step back from him, needing distance to keep a clear head. “Um…I don’t think it’s a good idea…The House isn’t the best place to…” I fumble with the words.

  “Don’t care. This won’t take long,” is his only response as he steers me the fringe of activity on the patio. The short reprieve gives my mind time to think. To rationalize. To decide. “I’m talking, you’re listening. Understood?”

  I turn to face him and look up at the lines of his magnificent face partially hidden by the shadows of the night. My angel struggling between the dark and the light. I take a fortifying breath before I open my mouth to speak, options and indecision swirling around with mixed emotions. “Colton…” I begin before he can speak and when I see the annoyance flash across his face, I decide to change tactics. Try to protect my heart from further devastation even though it’s crying in protest over what I’m about to do. “There’s nothing to explain.” I shrug; swallowing down the lump clogging my throat so the lies can prevail. “You made it clear from the beginning what was between us. I mistook our physical chemistry for love.” Colton’s eyes narrow and his mouth falls lax at my words. “Typical female mistake. Great sex doesn’t mean love. Sorry about that. I know how much you hate drama, but I realize that you’re right. This would’ve never worked.” I grit my teeth, knowing this is for the best as I watch the confusion flicker across his face. “It’s not like we were exclusive. What you did with Tawny is your business. I may not like it, but that’s the breaks right?”

  If I write him off, it might make having to work together less awkward for the both of us despite knowing deep down that having to be beside him when my heart still desires him—hell, when every cell in my body wants him in one way or another—will be brutal.

  Trying to prevent the memory of the wounded look in those crystalline green eyes, I start to turn away from him, moving so he can’t see the welling tears or my trembling chin. He reaches out and holds his favored spot on my bicep. “Get back here, Rylee…”

  I squeeze my eyes shut at the forlorn sound of my name from his lips and try to infuse nonchalance in my voice when I actually find it. “Thanks for the good time. It was real while it lasted.” I shrug my arm out of his grasp, and only when I open my eyes to walk away do I see Shane watching the interaction, concern in his eyes at the expression on my face.

  Colton mutters a curse beneath his breath as I walk away under the pretense of going to help clean up. Rather than going in to the kitchen to wash dishes, I walk right past it and go into the counselors’ room. I sit on the edge of one of the twin beds there and hold my head in my hands.

  What did I just do? I try to catch my breath, my conscience and my heart not agreeing with what my head decided was the best course of action. I fall back on the bed and rub my eyes with my hands, a litany of curses falling quietly from my lips as I chastise myself. A soft knock is at the door and before I can sit myself up, Shane pokes his head into the open doorway.

  “Rylee?”

  “Hey, bud.” I sit up and the smile I think I’m going to have to force comes naturally at the look of concern on his face. “What’s up?” I ask as I pat the spot on the bed next to me. I can tell something is bugging him.

  He shuffles over and sits down next to me, eyes angled down as he laces and unlaces his own fingers. “I’m sorry.” He breathes.

  “For what?” I’m usually pretty good at following the moods of the boys, but I’m thrown here.

  “I just…you’ve been sad…and he makes you happy…usually…so I invited him so that you’d be happy again. And now you’re sad…and it’s because of him. And I…” He clenches his fists and grits his teeth.

  Shane’s discomfort is obvious as it hits me what he’s saying. My heart breaks as I realize that he’s invited Colton here to try and cheer me up without knowing he’s the reason I’ve been so somber the past few days. And then I feel guilty because I obviously did let my relationship with Colton affect my work. I reach out and squeeze his hand.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Shane.” I wait until he raises his eyes to mine—eyes of the man he’s becoming but still reflecting the unsettled little boy deep inside. “What makes you think I’ve been sad?”

  He just shakes his head, tears starting to collect at the corners of his eyes. “You just have been…” He stops, and I wait for him to finish the thought I can see working its way to his mouth. “My mom was always so sad…always so upset because it was just us two…I never did anything to help…and then…” One day you found her dead with the empty bottles of pills beside her bed. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make things better…I didn’t realize he’s the one who made it worse.”

  “Oh, sweet boy,” I tell him, pulling him into my arms as a lone tear slides down his cheek. My heart swells with the love I have for this boy, so much older than his years for unfathomable reasons but with such a tender heart, trying to make me feel better. “That is one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done for me.” I lean back and frame his face in my hands. “You, Shane—you and the rest of the boys in our family—are what makes me happy on a daily basis.”

  “Kay… Well, I don’t have to accept his present if it upsets you,” he offers without a hesitation.

  “Don’t be silly.” I pat his leg, the gesture touching me. “Colton and I are fine,” I lie for good measure. “He’s just being a guy.” I get a slight smile out of him with that line despite his eyes still reflecting uncertainty. “Besides, think how cool it’ll be to tell all of your friends that a real race car driver taught you how to drive!”

  His grin widens, “I know! It’s so cool!” And once again we are back on even footing. He stands and starts toward the door, my little boy who is growing up so fast.

  “Hey, Shane?”

  “Yeah?” He stops at the door and turns around.

  “Happy birthday, buddy. I football you more than you’ll ever know.”

  A sheepish smile spreads across his face, his hair flopping down over his forehead when he just shakes his head and looks at me. “I’m sixteen now. We can stop with the whole football thing.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes as they meet mine. “I love you too,” he says before shrugging as only a sixteen year old can and walking away. I stare after him with a smile plastered on my face, a heart overflowing with love, and tears of joy pooling in my eyes.

  The beautiful Florida sunshine feels magnificent on my skin and elevates my spirits. Arriving a day earlier than needed in St. Petersburg, I have taken full advantage of the ever-present warm weather and lavish pool of the Vinoy Resort and Golf Club. The home base of CD Enterprises and Corporate Cares for the next few days. There’s nothing like relaxation and the touch of sun on my skin to rejuvenate me before my official duties and the whirlwind that will ensue tomorrow.

  It’s not that I mind the crazy schedule—in fact, I look forward to meeting and thanking the people that have helped make the project a reality—it’s that I will have to stand side by side with Colton to show the unity between our two companies. There are photo ops and sponsorship appreciation events among other things before the actual race on Sunday.

  I cringe at the thought of my schedule—my close proximity to Colton—seeing as how I was able to avoid him the rest of the night at Shane’s party and therefore didn’t follow through on my promise to talk with him. I’m sure my due will come tomorrow when I see him, but for now, my head swims of sun and relaxation.

  Rihanna’s Stay plays in my earbuds, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. Wanting to forgo getting sunburn on the first day here, I gather my belongings and head back toward the room.

  I step into the empty elevator, and just as the door starts to close, “Hold the elevator!” echoes off of the marbled walls
of the lobby. A hand sticks in the small space between the moving door and the wall, and it immediately retreats back open. I suck in a breath when a very sweaty, extremely delectable Colton jogs his way into the elevator. His momentum dies when his eyes meet mine.

  A pair of sweat soaked gym shorts ride low on his hips while the top portion of his torso remains bare. His tan is darker, no doubt from his work out in the bright sun, and sweat glistens off every inch of his bared skin. My eyes wander helplessly over the well-defined ridges of his abdomen, the intricate markings of his tattoos, and to where rivulets of sweat drip down into the deep V that travels below his waistband. I swallow reactively at the memory of my hands mapping those lines and the feel of them bunching beneath my fingertips as he buries himself in me. I drag my eyes away and up to those magnificent pools of green that stare at me with a somber intensity.

  Of all of the elevators in the entire frickin’ resort, he has to pick this one?

  A cautious smile turns up the corners of his mouth as he steps farther into the elevator toward me. He knows I’m affected. “Glad to see you got in okay.”

  “Yeah…” I clear my throat, finding it difficult to make my thoughts form into words when the temptation is so painstakingly clear in front of me. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  “Good,” he says, eyes locked on mine.

  The doors start to close again, and when a gentleman starts to walk in, Colton breaks our visual connection and steps in front of him, spreading his arms across the entrance. “Sorry, this elevator’s taken.” His voice that denotes that there is no arguing the matter.

  I start to protest as the doors close and Colton whirls around to me, his predatory glare matching the posture of his body. “Don’t even start, Rylee…” He growls, silencing me as he takes a step toward me. His chest is heaving and I’m not sure if it’s a result of the exertion from his run or because of our close proximity. His dominance of this small space is all consuming. “This ends right now.”