by K. Bromberg
He walks to the front door, opens it, and then turns back to me, “Hey, Ryles?”
“Hmmm-hmmm.”
“No more running away from me,” he cautions before flashing a quick grin and closing the door behind him. With his departure, I can suddenly breathe again. His presence is so strong, so overpowering, it overwhelms the room. Infiltrates my senses. With him gone, I feel like I can process what just happened. Finally breathe.
I stand facing the door, and close my eyes absorbing everything that has just transpired. Nothing is solved. None of my questions are answered: Why he doesn’t do the girlfriend thing? What is this between us since it’s not a one-night stand? What was he really going to say when he said I made him, but never finished? What is he trying to protect me from? What kind of baggage fills his 747?
I sigh heavily. So much has been left unanswered, and yet I feel like so much has been expressed without being said. I sit down on the couch, my head reeling from my whirlwind of a week.
“Is he gone?” I hear Haddie’s hushed voice from the other side of the wall.
“Yes, nosy girl,” I laugh, “Come out here and give me your two cents.”
“Holy crap!” she shouts as she hurries around the wall and flops down on the couch next to me. “Hot date tonight!” she sings loudly, raising her arms up in the air. “Whew, I need to take a cold shower after that.”
“You watched?” I blush quickly, embarrassed at the thought of having an audience.
“No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” she corrects. “I was in the kitchen when you guys came in the house. If I would’ve left, you’d have seen me, and I didn’t want to distract from your floor show,” she teases, referring to my stretching routine. “I heard only.”
I blush at the thought of her listening to our conversation, but find comfort in the notion that she’d listened. Now I can get an unbiased opinion about our exchange.
“Ace? Does he know what that stands for?”
“Nope!” I smirk, recalling Haddie and my private acronym and the words it represents.
“Damn, Ry,” Haddie shakes her head, “the man’s got it bad for you.”
I falter in my immediate response. Her statement blindsides me. I pick at the cuticle on the side of my nail for a moment, trying not to jump to conclusions. “Nah, it’s more like pure, unadulterated lust.”
“Not how I see it,” Haddie responds, my eyebrows quirking up in question to her comment. “Smitten is the word that comes to mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, c’mon, Rylee! Hard and fast?” she sputters.
“That’s just sex,” I shrug, “Not commitment.”
“It’s unfathomable how much he wants you?” she tries.
“Sex again,” I correct.
“Unimaginable how much he wanted you to say yes to tonight?”
“Because he thinks it will lead to sex,” I reply, a smile on my face from having fun with this game.
“How about when he said it wasn’t a one-night stand?” she tries again, eyes full of humor. Her heart shaped lips form a smile, thinking she’s proven me wrong this time.
“Semantics,” I answer. “Maybe he wants a thirty-night stand? I mean he only said it wasn’t a one-nighter.”
“Your incorrigible,” she laughs at me, grabbing my knee and squeezing it lightly. “But hell, at least it’d be thirty days worth of great sex, Rylee!” she gushes, her excitement for me palpable. “You’re going out with him again tonight! On a real date!”
“I know,” I sigh, shaking my head at the thought of getting to spend more time with Colton. “At least there might be conversation tonight before we have sex,” I joke, although a rational part of me admits its truth.
Haddie bursts out laughing. “Oh, Rylee, my sensible friend,” she pats my leg, “this is going to be so much fun to watch you experience.”
I quirk my eyebrow at her and shake my head, filled with so much love for her and so much confusion over the situation with Colton. I sigh deeply, leaning my head back on the comfortable couch, and angle it to the side so that I can look at her. “Did I handle that right, Haddie? I tried so hard to be what he wants and—”
“You are what he wants, Rylee, or he wouldn’t have tracked you down to your house.” She is exasperated at having to explain this to me. Again.
“What did you just say?” The magnitude of her comment hits home. How does Colton know where I live? I’ve never told him. Something to ask him.
“C’mon, Ry,” she says oblivious to my train of thought, “What you did was brilliant! You walk out on him after sex last night and the next morning he shows up at our doorstep. I mean—” she shakes her head, a knowing smile on her lips, “that’s more than just sex, Ry. The man’s got it bad for you.”
I feel her words take hold and enter into my conscious, but I’m afraid to believe them. Afraid to hope that there’s a chance at anything with Colton. My head tries to shut out the surge from my heart, but it fails miserably. The hopeless romantic in me allows me a moment to daydream. To hope. I close my eyes sinking in to the glimmer of possibility and the warmth of the idea.
“Shit!” I scrub my hands over my face as panic hedges its way through my thoughts.
“What?” Haddie opens her eyes, narrowing them as she looks over at me.
“What if I can’t do it?”
“Which part of it are you referring to?” she questions warily. “Because it’s a little late, sister, if the it you’re referring to is sex.”
“Very funny.” I huff. “I meant what if I can’t turn off the emotions. What if I fall for him, Had?” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair, and the action makes me think of Colton’s fingers there earlier. “I mean he’s arrogant and overconfident and he warns me away but tells me he’s drawn to me and he’s reckless and he’s passionate and sexy as hell and…so, so much more.” I press my fingers to my eyes and sit there for a minute, Haddie allowing me the moment to absorb everything. “I know without a doubt that it’s a good possibility.” I look up at her. “Then what? “
“It seems he’s not the only one who’s smitten,” she says softly before I glare at her. She scoots over next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. “No one can fault you for being afraid, Rylee, but life’s about taking chances. About having fun and not always playing it safe. So what if he’s a little reckless? The fact that he scares you might be a good thing. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone,” she leans back and wriggles her eyebrows. “Have some wild, reckless sex with him. He obviously likes you. Who knows, maybe it will turn into something more. Maybe it won’t. But at least you took the chance.”
CHAPTER 15
Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I reiterate Haddie’s advice as I get ready for my date with Colton. The song in the background makes me smile. It is the song that Colton’s earlier text referred to:
Dress casual. Since you still seem to run away rather than talk to me, I’ll use your method of communication to relay my message. Taio Cruz, “Fast Car.” See you at six.
Haddie had smiled knowingly when I showed her the text and scrambled for her iPad to play the song for me. We laughed out loud at the song’s words. “I want to drive you like a fast car.” Perfectly fitting for Colton to send.
We then scrambled to find a song I could send back to him. “Something to make him think about you the rest of the day and knock his socks off,” Haddie had said while scrolling through her vast library of music. After several minutes of silence, she yelled, “I’ve got the perfect song, Rylee!”
“What is it?”
“Just listen,” she said as the opening line of the song started. I started laughing out loud, knowing the song and liking the sexiness of it. Before we knew it, Haddie and I were dancing around the living room singing at the top of our lungs. The song was perfect! Sexy, suggestive, and confident—everything I felt but was too shy to be in front of him. So before I lost my nerve, I grabbed my phone and texted Colton back:
&n
bsp; Nice song, Ace. It fits you perfectly. Now, I’ve got one for you that fits me. Mya, “My love is like whoa!” I’ll be waiting for you at six.
A few minutes later, I received a response back:
Shit. Now I’m hard. Six o’clock.
I smile at the thought of our earlier exchange, a small thrill running through me that I have such an effect on him. I look in the mirror and scrutinize my outfit, heeding Colton’s advice from the text to dress casual. I have my favorite True Religion jeans on with a violet-colored cashmere sweater that has capped sleeves and a sexy but tasteful low V-neckline. I’ve forgone the Haddie makeover tonight, opting to do my own make-up and hair. My make-up is natural and light; a little blush, some lip-gloss, smudged eyeliner, and thick mascara to highlight my eyes. Despite playing around with my hair for a while, I opt to keep it down, my curls loose on my back. I add simple diamond studs to my ears and some gold bangles to my wrist.
I twist my ring around and around on my finger, contemplating whether I should wear it or not. I take it off and look at it; three thin, wavy, intertwined diamond bands. Past, present, and future. I can still hear him whisper those words in my ear as we stared at it on my finger the night he proposed. I close my eyes and smile at the memory, surprised when the tears that usually threaten don’t come. I play with it on my finger a moment more before hesitantly twisting it off. I stare at it for a beat before I place it in my jewelry box. I pick it back up in indecision, the war of emotions raging inside of me.
Fresh start, I remind myself with a deep, steadying breath, and place it back in the box. I’ve worn the ring, in one way or another, everyday for three years. I feel naked without it, both inside and out. I wiggle my fingers and look at the lighter band of skin marked by time. I feel a weight lifting off of me and at the same time a sadness in the acceptance that it’s time to move on. I kiss the spot on my finger and say a silent I love you to Max, taking a moment to absorb the importance of this moment before turning to do my last minute touch ups in the mirror.
I’m slipping on my black, heeled boots when the doorbell rings. I press a hand to my belly, finding it oddly strange that I’m nervous. The man has seen me naked and yet I still have butterflies. Haddie calls out to me that she’ll answer the door. I grab my cropped leather jacket and purse, check myself in the mirror one last time, and make my way down the hallway. I nervously run my hands over my sides and hips, smoothing down my shirt, the clicking from the heels of my boots muted by the runner on the hardwood floor. I hear Colton laugh out loud as I turn the corner near the family room.
His back is to me when I enter the room. I suck in my breath when I see him. A pair of dark blue jeans hangs low on his hips, hugging his ass and thighs. The man can fill out denim, no question about that. His broad shoulders and strong back stretch the cotton of his plain white t-shirt. The back of his hair curls up at the nape of his neck, and I itch to run my fingers through it. He oozes sex appeal, smolders with rebellion, and radiates confidence. One look at him makes me crave and want and fear all at once. And he’s all mine for the night.
Before Haddie can acknowledge my entrance into the room, Colton stops midsentence. My body tightens at the anticipation, and the deep-seated ache he’s awakened in me rises to new heights as he looks over his shoulder, his body sensing my presence. I swear I can feel the air crackle with electricity as our eyes meet, our bodies vibrating with the awareness of each other’s.
“Rylee.” My name comes out in a breath. The single word laced with so much promise for the night.
“Hi, Ace.” It’s impossible to mask my pleasure at seeing him again. I smile, hoping he sees how much I want to spend time with him and fearing he might read the emotions simmering beneath the excitement.
We step toward each other as he flashes his megawatt grin at me. I fumble with the strap of my purse anxiously as he simply stares at me. “Gorgeous as ever,” he murmurs finally after I feel like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. He reaches out and runs his hand up and down my bare arm, the contact casual but resonating. “You ready?”
Two simple words. That’s all they are really, but with Colton, he makes those two simple words sound seductive with the implication of so much more. I nod my head and murmur, “Hmmm-hmmm,” and am caught off guard as he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. Such a simple gesture but so unexpected from someone like him.
“Let’s go, then.”
I glance over my shoulder and flash a smile at Haddie, my silent goodbye. I catch the quick thumbs up she flashes me before we exit the front door.
Colton places his hand on the small of my back as he walks me toward the Range Rover, the simple placement of his hand a comfort to my unsettled nerves. Before he reaches for the passenger side door handle, Colton moves the hand from my lower back around to my stomach and pulls me backwards into him so that his body ghosts mine. I hold my breath, the unexpected contact with him awakening the smoldering burn he’s set fire to. He wraps his other arm around my shoulders and he lowers his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of my neck. The warmth of his breath, the sandpaper feel of his shadowed beard, the suggested intimacy of the touch, and the rare glimpse at the affectionate side of Colton causes me to close my eyes momentarily to steady myself and quiet the mixture of sensations rioting inside of me.
“Thank you for saying yes, Ryles,” he murmurs before kissing the hollow spot just below my ear. “Now, let me show you a good time.” I angle my head against his cheek, and close my eyes enjoying the firm heat of him against me. And all too soon he’s released me from his arms and is opening the car door for me, ushering me in.
By the time Colton has reached the driver’s side, the glimpse inside his tough façade is gone and has been replaced with his brooding silence. He clicks his seatbelt and glances over at me. Despite the apprehension I see flickering his eyes, he reaches over and places a hand on my knee, squeezing it in reassurance.
We drive in a comfortable silence as I watch the tree lined street of my neighborhood pass by us. The moon is out, full and bright lighting up the warm January night sky. I look over at Colton, the dash lights casting a glow on his face. A shock of his dark hair has fallen haphazardly over his forehead and I watch his eyes, framed by thick lashes, scan the road ahead of us. The line of his profile is stunning with his imperfect nose, strong bone structure, and sensually sculpted lips. My gaze trails down to take in his strong arms and competent hands on the wheel. The combination of dark hair, translucent eyes, and bronzed skin mixed with the potency of his indifferent attitude—an attitude that makes you want to be the one who matters and be the one who can break through that tough exterior—that combination, it should be illegal. He really does take one’s breath away.
When I look back at his face, Colton glances over at me and his eyes holds my gaze before flicking back to the road. A shy smile forms on his lips, his only acknowledgement of my quiet observation of him. The car revs, gunning forward on the freeway, and I laugh freely at him.
“What?” he feigns innocently, squeezing my knee.
“You like to go fast don’t you, Ace?” I realize the innuendo behind my words the minute I say them.
He looks over at me, a wicked grin on his lips, annunciating every word of his answer. “You have no idea, Rylee.”
“Actually, I think I do,” I reply wryly. Colton throws his head back in a full-bodied laugh and shakes his head at me. “No, seriously. What is it about speed that’s so attractive to you?”
He mulls it over momentarily before answer. “Trying to tame …” he stops to reconsider his answer, “No, rather trying to control the uncontrollable, I guess.”
I snort in jest. “That’s a fitting metaphor if I’ve ever heard one.” And I can’t help but wonder if he’s referring to something deeper than the tongue-in-cheek response.
“Whatever do you mean?” he plays along innocently.
“Someone once told me that I should research my dates,” I look over at him, his eyebrows
rising at my comment. “Quite the wild child, aren’t we?”
Colton gives me his brighter than the sun mega-watt smile. “No one can ever claim that I’m boring or predictable,” he muses, looking over his shoulder to change lanes. “Besides, outrunning your demons has a way of doing that to you.” Before I can even process the words, Colton skillfully changes the subject, “Food or fun first?”
I want to ask questions, figure out what he means by his comment, but I bite my tongue and answer. “Fun. Definitely fun!”
“Good choice,” he responds, before muttering a curse when his cell phone rings on the car speaker. “Sorry,” he apologizes before tapping a button on the steering wheel.
The screen on the dash says the name Tawny, and I immediately bristle at the sight. Researching my date certainly gave me more information than just his run-ins with trouble. I now know what Tawny looks like, that she’s been his date to numerous functions over the years, and this is the second out of the last three times I’ve been with Colton that she’s called him. My sudden pang of jealousy surprises me, but it only gets stronger when I hear Colton’s familiarity talking to her.
“Hey, Tawn. You’re on speaker,” he warns.
“Oh!” I can’t help but find a tiny bit of joy when I hear the surprise in her voice. “I thought that you’d called it off with Raq—”
“I have,” he responds in a clipped tone. “What do you need, Tawny?” Irritation is prevalent in his tone.
What a bitchy comment from her. What if I had been Raquel in the car with him? I sense her making a claim on her territory, Colton.
Silence fills the line. “Oh. Um. I was just calling to tell you that the formal letters went out today for the sponsorship.” When he doesn’t say a word in response, she continues, “That’s it.”
What? She works for him? With him? On a daily basis? That’s just what I need filling my head as jealousy rears it’s bitchy head. The blonde glamazon sees him on a daily basis and then gets to go out with him occasionally to events. Fucking lovely.
