The Driven Series

by Bromberg, K.

  I hear Haddie’s loud sigh of frustration but ignore it. “Ry, you’ve got to talk to him. You’re miserable. You said yourself he said nothing happened.”

  I snort in jest. “’He’ being the operative word Haddie.” I say, turning to her, a chill in my voice as a result of her constant meddling in regards to how I’m handling the relationship that I no longer have with Colton. “Put yourself in my shoes. Let’s say that you went to talk to the guy you’re seeing and some long-legged bimbo, the one who has made it crystal clear to you in previous conversations that she wants your man, opens his door. In the morning. The only thing she is wearing is his T-shirt. Definitely no bra. And your boyfriend comes to answer the door, buttoning up his jeans, happy trail showing and then some to let you know that he was naked just prior to that moment. You realize that Long-Legged-Bimbo is most likely wearing the T-shirt that is missing from your boyfriend’s bare chest. You ask said boyfriend what the hell is going on, and you can see his mind trying to figure out how to explain what you’ve just seen.” I shove another game back on the shelf. “As he’s denying nothing happened, a condom wrapper falls from his pocket. He still claims nothing happened. I believe the actual words he used were absolutely nothing happened, but push him a little—get him flustered—and oops, out slips that it was just a kiss. Only a kiss. I guarantee if I push him a little harder, more truths will spill out. Nothing happened my ass!”

  “There could be a perfectly good reason…” she throws in there but stops when I glare at her.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I just hate seeing you like this.” She angles her head at me and twists her lips. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from, Ry, I do. I really do, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I just sat back and watched you make a mistake. I think you’re so upset—and rightfully so—at what happened that you’re not seeing the forest through the trees right now. You need to talk to him and hear him out. I mean the guy is still chasing after you relentlessly.”

  I raise my eyebrows in agitation, my feathers automatically ruffled. “Guilt will do that to you,” I mutter as I move on looking at other possible gift options.

  “It will,” she agrees, “but so will being falsely accused of something.” I peer up from the case of iPods and accessories, meeting her eyes. She reaches out and places a hand on my upper arm. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m watching his non-stop attempts to get your attention. Shit, he’s been to our house three times in the last week trying to get you to listen to him. I’m not going to lie to him anymore for you and tell him you’re not home. I know you’re scared to let him back in again, but I think that fear might be healthy. The man’s got it bad for you. Just like you do him. Please, keep that in mind.”

  I stare at her for a moment and then turn back to the case, needing a minute to digest what the one person that knows me better than anyone else has just said. “I’ll think about it,” is all I can manage. “Am I missing something here? Why are you pushing this so hard when you are the queen of moving on to the next guy when there is the smallest transgression let alone the guy screwing someone else? I just don’t get it.”

  “Because he makes you happy. He challenges you. Pushes you outside your comfort zone. Makes you feel again—both good and bad—but at least you’re feeling. How can I not when in the short time you’ve been together, you’ve come back to life again?” She throws a box of cereal in the cart I’m pushing. “I know I’m supposed to side whole-heartedly with you because you’re my best friend, but I’m holding out hope.”

  I try and let her words sink in. “You didn’t see what I saw, Haddie. And let’s face it, words mean nothing. One minute he says nothing happened and then the next that it was just a kiss, but you know what? Something did happen, and I’m not just talking about between him and Tawny. I told him I loved him—and the something that happened was him running away and turning to another woman.” My voice cracks on my last words, my resolve weakening. “I understand that he might have issues because of his past—I get that. Running away for a while to figure your head out is one thing, but running to another woman? That’s unacceptable.”

  “I’ve never known you to be so hard on someone. To not give him the benefit of the doubt. From what you said, he seems to be as miserable as you are.”

  “We’re done here,” I tell her, and I mean more than just the shopping. I don’t want to listen to her sympathize with Colton any more. I roll my eyes on a sigh as Haddie steps in front of the cart to block me.

  “A man like Colton isn’t going to wait around forever,” she warns. “You need to figure out what you want or else you’re going to run the risk of losing him. Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do and say things you never thought you ever would—like forgiving. It sucks donkeys, but that’s just the way it is.” She steps to the side of the cart, her eyes steadfast on mine. “There’s a fine line between being stubborn and being stupid, Rylee,”

  “Hmpf,” is all I manage to say in response, pushing the cart past her, but her words hit their target. I blow out a long breath as I fight back the tears threatening and the images that flood my memory. I struggle to figure out where exactly that line is. At what point do I actually open myself up and listen to Colton’s explanations with the possibility of believing him? And at what part of that process do I become stupid for either forgiving or not forgiving him. Am I willing to let the man I love walk away on principle alone?

  It’s a no win situation, and I’m so sick of thinking about it and dwelling over it. Seeing as how I will be spending time with him and his team in St. Petersburg starting Thursday, I think I’ll have more than ample time to dwell some more on it then. Right now, I just want to buy Shane his birthday present and go enjoy his party without the complication of Colton’s presence.

  Fuck! I groan internally. I’m being a coward and I know it. I’m just so afraid to forgive and get hurt again. To get sucked up in the tornado that is Colton and be hurled back into emotional suicide. I laid myself out bare and he chewed me up and spit me out just like Tawny said he would. But what if Haddie’s right? What if I’m fucking this up? What if he didn’t do it?

  And it’s in the middle of my self-deprecation that I look up and my eyes catch the latest issue of People. And there he is—the current cause of my misery and schizophrenic emotional state—gracing the cover of the magazine. A candid shot of him and Cassandra Miller together at a party.

  The pang hits me in a flash and I do my best to recover quickly. Unfortunately I’ve been getting good at it over the past few days.

  “As miserable as I am?” I question Haddie, sarcasm rich in my voice. I try to tear my eyes away but they won’t budge. They scrape over every detail of the picture. “Yeah he looks like he’s really suffering.”

  Haddie sighs in exasperation. “Ry, it was a charity auction. One that you were supposed to attend as his date if I recall, and I read online that he showed up alone.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s bad enough to think of him with Tawny, but now I have to push the image of Cassie out of my head too. “Arriving alone and leaving alone are two completely different things,” I respond wryly, forcing my eyes from the cover.

  “Ry—”

  “Just drop it, Haddie,” I say, knowing I’m being irrational but so beyond caring any more.

  Haddie and I chat about everything but Colton as we leave the store, our earlier conversation tucked away for me to ponder later and a new set of noise canceling head phones and an iTunes gift card for Shane under my arm. Haddie and I are a few feet from my car when I hear, “Excuse me, Miss?”

  I glance at Haddie before turning to the voice at my back, suddenly grateful that Haddie asked to accompany me on my errand. There is nothing more unnerving to a female than a random man approaching you in a parking lot when you’re alone. “Can I help you?” I ask the gentleman as he nears me. He’s of average height with a baseball cap covering his longish brown hair and eyes ma
sked behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses. He looks completely normal, but he still makes me uncomfortable. Something about him seems familiar, but I know I’ve never met him before.

  “Are you...no, you couldn’t be?” he says in a uniquely sounding grate of a voice while shaking his head.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You look like that young lady that was featured in the paper with those orphaned kids and that racing guy. Was that you?”

  His comment surprises me. I look at him for a moment thinking how to best respond and trying to figure out why he’d remember that particular article. Odd but possible. “Uh…yeah.”

  He just tilts his head and despite not being able to see his eyes behind his dark lenses, I get the distinct feeling that he is running his eyes over the length of my body and it unnerves me. Just as I’m about to say screw this and get in the car, he speaks again. “What a great program you have there. Just thought I’d let you know.”

  “Thanks,” I say absently as I climb in my car, dismissing him and breathing a sigh of relief when he walks away without another word.

  Haddie looks over at me, concern etched in her eyes. “Creepy,” she mutters, and I can’t help but agree.

  “NOT YET!” I CHASTISE SHANE as he begs again to open one of his presents.

  “Oh c’mon, Ry,” he flashes his lady killer grin at me. “Can’t I at least open one?”

  “Nope! No presents are being opened until after cake. You have to make a wish first!” I smirk as I finish the last portion of dinner clean-up. “Besides, you already opened the presents from your friends last night when you all went to the movies.”

  “Can’t fault a guy for trying,” he says as he sits on a barstool.

  “What’d you guys see?”

  His eyes light up like a normal sixteen-year-old boy at the mention of his coed movie night out, and it warms my heart. This kid is a heartbreaker, and I remind myself to speak to Jackson about having a little man-to-man with him about being responsible. “That new zombie movie. It was way cool!”

  “Mmm-hmm…did Sophie go with you guys?” His cheeks redden at her name, and I know that Jackson definitely needs to have that chat soon.

  Shane fills me in on the details about his evening while the rest of the boys are outside with Dane, Bailey, Jackson, and Austin—the other counselors here to help celebrate. They are decorating the patio area for the birthday party, as is our practiced tradition here at The House.

  “Okay, we’re ready for the birthday boy!” Austin announces as he enters the kitchen. Shane rolls his eyes at the babyish idea of a birthday party, but I know deep down he secretly enjoys the fuss.

  We head out to the patio where streamers and balloons hang haphazardly yet affectionately. It’s obvious that the younger boys helped with decorating. A cake sits on one table and another has a small gathering of birthday presents on it. Shane smiles brightly at the sight and at the chorus of cheers that erupt when he walks through the doorway.

  We visit for a bit and play childish party games because for these kids nothing is silly. They’ve missed out on numerous ridiculous traditions in their lifetimes, and we want to try and provide such things for them here. After pin the tail on the donkey, we decide it’s time for cake.

  “Oops, I forgot the party plates,” Bailey whispers to me as she places seventeen candles on the cake.

  “I’ll get them!” Scooter pipes up.

  “No! I’ve got them,” I say quickly as Bailey looks at me oddly. “All the stuff for the Easter baskets are in the same cabinet,” I whisper to her, not wanting Scooter to accidentally see the Easter Bunny’s secret stash. She just smiles and calls him back to help her.

  It takes me a while to get the plates out of the cabinet in the garage because I move and re-stash the Easter garb onto a higher shelf and place some stuff in front of it for better hiding. Austin is walking down the hall to find me when I come back in the door from the garage to the house.

  “Everything okay?” he asks, his English accent turning the corners of my mouth up a tad. He really is the epitome of handsome with his blond hair and golden skin and very serious girlfriend whom I’ve come to call a friend.

  “Yeah.” I smile. As we walk through the great room and out toward the back door, he slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close into his side to whisper what he got Shane for his birthday as we walk onto the patio. I laugh out loud as he tells me about his gag gift and then his real gift, when I refocus my attention on the party. And although it is completely innocent, Austin’s mouth is nuzzled into my ear divulging his birthday present secrets when I raise my head and surprisingly meet Colton’s eyes across the yard.

  I feel like the world falls out beneath my feet, my heart staggering in my chest and breath catching in my throat. His comments mingled with Haddie’s mix and meld in my head, and every part of my body and soul wants every part of his right now. I want the complications gone, the images in my head of him and Tawny to vanish, and to just be back to where we were with him shaving in my bathroom with the pink handle of my razor in his hand.

  And as much as I want to see him again regardless of the pain his presence causes, I can’t find it in me to forgive what he did. Wouldn’t it just happen again?

  His eyes hold mine for a beat, shooting daggers at Austin and his arm draped on my shoulder, before turning back to his conversation with of all people, intern Bailey. Yes, that Bailey. The girl I believe he’d messed around with prior to helping me out of the storage closet that first night we met. And even though Colton keeps glancing over at me, Bailey is clueless, all of her blatant flirting focused solely on him. My stomach revolts when I see her place a hand on his bicep and smile suggestively up at him.

  “Someone didn’t get the memo,” Dane whispers in my ear as Austin goes to help Ricky with something.

  “What?”

  “Bailey didn’t seem to get the memo that Colton’s no longer on the market.”

  “She can have him.” I snort, rolling my eyes as I see him dart another glance over at me. Dane looks at me oddly, and I realize that I’ve let our little no-longer-seeing-each other predicament slip. I’ve purposely kept what has happened quiet, not wanting anyone at the company to get wind that Colton and I are at odds so it wouldn’t get back to Teddy. It’s really been easy since I never spoke about it anyway; rather I just let the rumors run without confirming or denying them.

  “Uh-oh.” Dane smirks, always one for juicy gossip. “Sounds like trouble in paradise.”

  “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?”