Crashed (The Driven Trilogy)

by K. Bromberg

  His personal vows signify the depth of his love for me—the man who swore he couldn’t love, does whole-heartedly.

  “You’ve given me a life I never even knew I wanted, Ry. And for that? I promise to give myself to you—the broken, the bent, and every piece in between—wholeheartedly, without deception, without outside influences. I promise to text you songs to make you hear me when you just won’t listen. I promise to encourage your compassion because that’s what makes you, you. I promise to push you to be spontaneous because breaking rules is what I do best,” he says with a smirk as a lone tear slides down his face. “I promise to play lots and lots of baseball, making sure we touch each base. Home run!” He says the last word softly so only I can hear, and I laugh through my tears.

  And I can’t hold back anymore so I reach out and rub my hand over the side of his jaw, not caring one bit about the assumptions people might be making about that vow.

  “And that right there … that laugh? I promise to make you laugh like that every single day. And sigh. I like hearing your sighs too.” He winks at me. “I promise nothing will be more valuable in my life than you. That you will never be inconsequential. That those you love, I’ll love too,” he says and then looks over to the row where all of the boys sit. “As I stand here promising to be yours, to give you all of me, I already know that a lifetime will never be long enough to love you. It’s just not possible.” He shrugs, my heart swelling as his voice wavers slightly. “But, baby, I’ve got forever to try, if you’ll have me.”

  “Yes!” I choke out as Colton slips my ring on my finger, my body trembling, my heart never more steady, my head completely clear.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  My tears fall and I don’t even try to stop them. He looks so conflicted, wanting to draw me in his arms and comfort me. He looks over to our officiate, silently asking for permission to touch me. And it’s so cute that my man, who always disregards rules, is afraid to break them now.

  I wipe my eyes with a Kleenex that Haddie hands me and draw in a deep breath to prepare myself for getting through my vows. “Colton, as much as I tried to fight it, I think I’ve been in love with you since I fell out of that storage closet and crashed into your arms. A chance encounter. You saw a spark in me when all I’d felt for so long was grief. You showed me romance when you swore it wasn’t real. You taught me I deserve to feel when all I’d been for so long was numb.” I shake my head and look down at our hands, before looking back up to meet his eyes.

  “You showed me scars—inside and out—are beautiful and to own them without fear. You showed me the real you—you let me in—when you always shut others out. You showed me such fortitude and bravery that I had no choice but to love you. And even though you never knew it, you showed me your heart time and time again. Every bent piece of it.” I breathe, my trembling hands holding his.

  And the look in his eyes—filled with acceptance, adoration, reverence—is one I will never forget. Tears slide silently down his cheeks, in such stark contrast to the intensity on his face but I see his vulnerability. I feel the love.

  “You say I brought light to your darkness, but I disagree. Your light was always there, I just showed you how to let it shine. You’re giving me the life I’ve always wanted. And for that? I promise to give myself to you—the defiance, the selflessness, the whole damn alphabet—wholeheartedly, without deception, without outside influences.”

  And I can’t help it, even thought I know it’s against the rules, I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, and when I lean back, the look in his eyes and the lopsided smile on his face is one I’ll remember for the rest of our lives.

  “Rule breaker,” he teases with a raise of his eyebrow as I prepare to finish my vows.

  “I learned from the best.” I shake my head and look back at him with clarity. “I promise to encourage your free spirit and rule breaking ways because that’s what makes you, you. I promise to challenge you and push you so we can continue to grow into better versions of ourselves. I promise to be patient and hold your hand when you want it held the least, because that’s what I do best. I promise to text you songs too so we can keep the lines of communication open between us. And I promise to wear dresses with zippers up the back,” I throw in on a whim, prompting Colton to look over at Haddie who is laughing behind me. He shakes his head, before focusing back on me.

  “I promise a lifetime of laughter, ice cream breakfasts and pancake dinners. And as much as I love waving that checkered flag? Batter-up, baby.” My smile matches his as my love for him swells and soars to new heights. “I promise that nothing will be more valuable in my life than you—because everything else is inconsequential—and you, Colton, are most definitely not. I remember sitting in a Starbucks watching you and wondering what it would be like to get the chance to love you, and now I get a lifetime to find out. And I still don’t think that will be enough time.” I take his ring from Haddie, the band etched with a checkered design, and slip it on his finger.

  Becks starts mocking and all the guests laugh. As much as I want to throttle him, I never could. This is my life now and he’s a part of it.

  “You’re next, fucker,” Colton mutters to him under his breath, causing him to choke more and me to laugh louder. It takes a minute for the laughter to abate and for everyone to settle down so that the focus is back on us.

  “Colton, we’ve got forever to try, if you’ll have me?”

  “You know this is permanent, right?” he says softly, reminding me of the symbol forever marking my hip. I nod my head subtly as he looks at me, head angled, eyes dancing, lips smiling, and says, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He looks down at his hand, the new band on his ring finger and shakes his head for a moment as he accepts what’s just happened. The look on his face is priceless. And with impatience rivaling that of one of my boys, his eyes dart over to the officiate.

  “Yes, Colton.” she chuckles, knowing exactly what he wants. “You may kiss your bride!”

  Wonderment and love flow through me.

  “Thank Christ!” He exhales as he steps into me and frames my face with his hands. “This is one checkered flag I’m forever claiming.”

  And then his lips are on mine, our connection irrefutable, as I hear the officiate announce, “Friends and family, may I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Colton Donavan.”

  10 Years Later

  The vibration of the motor rumbles in my chest long before the car slings into turn four. I track the car, my eyes glued to it as he fights traffic on his second to last lap, and I wonder if it will always be this way. If I’ll always be a nervous wreck when he’s out there.

  Definitely. Without a doubt.

  I hear him shift gears as he enters into turn two, the only turn I can’t see from my place in the box along pit row, so I turn to look at the monitor in front of me. I hear the announcer growing frantic as the end of the race nears, and I don’t fight my pride or smile.

  “Donavan’s flying through turn three. One more to go and he’s claiming the checkered flag here today, race fans, as well as taking the lead in the current points standings. Traffic moves aside as he enters turn four and now Donavan’s on the homestretch with no one even challenging him.” His excitement is contagious as I look up from the screen to watch the car fly toward the start/finish line.

  And even though the outcome is unfolding in front of me, my rising anxiety won’t be soothed until I can wrap my arms around him again.

  “And it’s Donavan across first! Donavan takes the checkered flag here today at the Indy Lights Grand Prix, ladies and gentleman! Another one in the bag for this talented driver I know we’ll see so much more of in victory lane.”

  The box around me buzzes with excitement, but I don’t even stop to chat because my headset’s off and I’m jogging down the stairs. Everyone knows the drill by now, so I’m not worried about who’s with whom or where we’ll meet up again. I fight through the crowd just in time to see his car slowly enter
the black and white checkered staging area of victory lane.

  My body vibrates with excitement, and my heart is in my throat as I see the crew descend around him, reaching their hands into the open capsule of the car and squeeze his shoulders or pat the top of his helmet in congratulations. I stand back letting them have their team moment, anxious to congratulate him myself.

  I see the steering wheel get passed out, and then I watch as he unfolds his body from the car. Hands help steady him as he climbs out and finds his legs after sitting for the past five hours.

  The crew steps back as one man approaches. This has been the good luck routine for the past year. Love swells as I watch the man I fall in love with more and more every single day step forward and start to help unbuckle his helmet.

  The media pushes their way around me to get closer, but I remain rooted and watch the moment that chokes me up every single time I see it. A moment that will never lose its impact.

  The helmet and white balaclava comes off in one smooth stroke, allowing me to see Zander’s eyes sparkle with the same pride and excitement I feel over his win. Colton takes his helmet from him and grabs our son in a quick embrace packed full of so many emotions. And I know what Colton is saying to him. The same thing he’s told him countless times over the years. “I’m proud of you, son. I love you.” These are the words he wants him to never forget, or ever be ashamed to say. I swallow the lump in my throat as Colton ruffles Zander’s sweat-soaked hair and then steps back to let him have his moment in the sun.

  Colton gets lost in the crowd as Becks steps forward and slings an arm around Zander to praise him before the media descends around them.

  I stand in the crowd of people around me and wait, knowing he’ll find me. It takes only minutes before I feel his hands slide around my waist and pull me back against him, my softness to his steel, at the same time I feel his mouth against my ear.

  “Zander did good today, huh?” The rasp of his voice has me closing my eyes momentarily and wondering how over ten years later that sound can still get to me. Can still cause every feeling to flood back like the first night we met.

  I angle my head sideways, his stubble tickling my skin as I move my mouth closer to his ear so he can hear me above the announcers and craziness around us. “He gets better with each race,” I tell him as I press a kiss to the underside of his jaw and hold it there for a moment. “He has a great teacher,” I say, my lips pressed against his skin. “It’s your turn to take the checkered flag now.” I lift my head up just in time to catch him raise an eyebrow and flash a roguish smirk, and I know he’s most definitely not thinking about his race next week. I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips. “On the track, Ace! You already claimed this one!”

  “Damn straight I did.” He laughs before pressing another chaste kiss to the side of my head, leaving his lips there momentarily before murmuring, “I gotta get back to the team. See you in a bit?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Tell everyone dinner’s at six-thirty sharp tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yep,” he says as he turns me around in his arms to face him and then looks at me for a beat with that soft smile I love. The years have been kind to him, a few more lines around his eyes perhaps, but he still has the same Adonis-like looks that stop my heart.

  He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, and it takes everything I have to not sink a little farther into it, into him. Because even after all this time, I simply can’t get enough of him.

  Like everything else about me, he senses my need for him and I can feel his smile on his lips before he brushes one last kiss against mine. He leans forward and whispers into my ear, “There’ll be plenty of that later.”

  “Whatever happened to when I want, where I want, huh, Ace?” I challenge him.

  I love the carefree sound that falls from his lips as he throws his head back in a full-bodied laugh. He shakes his head and just looks at me, his eyes darting over to a meeting room over my shoulder. “I believe I already proved that theory earlier this morning, Mrs. Donavan.” His words cause the ache he’d sated earlier on the desk in that room to come back with a vengeance. He trails a finger down my cheek. “I’ll be more than happy to prove that point to you again a little later tonight though.”

  “Oh no worries.” I smirk. “Your point was more than proven.”

  “Baby, this point was most definitely more than proven,” he murmurs suggestively as he splays his hand across my lower back and pulls me hard against him so I can feel every single inch of that point pressed against my lower belly. All I can do is breathe out as every part of my body craves him again. “Fuck, I love you,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips before winking at me and walking back toward Zander and the race team.

  And all I can do is watch his back as he walks away—strong shoulders, head held high, and still sexy as hell. I shake my head, reminded of when all those years ago as he walked away from me in a race suit. How he called out my name, found the courage to tell me he raced me, and changed more than just our lives, forever.

  The house is buzzing with noise like a goddamn beehive.

  Just how Ry likes it. Though fuck if I know why, because it’s filled with high powered testosterone, overtaking her tiny bit of estrogen.

  I glance out on the patio as I walk down the stairs to see Shane talking to Connor about how he’s doing with his new job, his arm around his wife and a bottle of beer to his lips.

  All of the boys are here for our once a month family dinner as Ry calls it, even though some of the boys—shit, men now—are starting families of their own.

  “Hey, Shane,” I call out to him through the open pocket doors. “I have a few more beers in here if you want them,” I tease and he snorts and rolls his eyes in response.

  “No thanks. I’m good with just one,” he says, holding the bottle up to me in a mock toast with a wide smirk. I laugh, the memory of him green and hungover making me smile.

  I walk through the hallway and take it all in. Aiden in his UCLA baseball jersey fresh from practice shooting the shit with Zander in his board shorts and backwards baseball hat, a relaxed grin on his face. Scooter sitting on the deck outside playing with Spiderman figurines with Shane’s two year old son. Shit.

  The sight makes me feel like I’m older than dirt.

  Everyone’s here but Kyle and Ricky. I feel sorry as fuck for the freshman girls at Stanford those two are currently unleashing their charm on. Or maybe it’s their own type of voodoo. The women don’t stand a chance against them. Hearts are gonna be breaking.

  Fuck ’em and chuck ’em.

  Thinking of those two has the old term hitting me like a ton of bricks as the memories of that first night flash back. I don’t even fight my smile as I think of the hearts I used to break … damn I was good—until a certain wavy haired vixen crashed into my damn life, grabbed hold, and never let go. Defiance and curves and my world got turned upside down when I opened up that damn storage closet.

  And thank Christ for that.

  My fucking Rylee.

  And then I hear her voice in the kitchen, and my feet head toward her without a second thought. I clear the doorway and every ounce of love I never thought I could have, never thought a possibility, fucking sucker punches me like it does every goddamn time I see them like this.

  Pots are boiling on the stove, the microwave is dinging, and the Goo Goo Dolls are playing overhead, but I don’t notice any of that because my eyes are fixed on the sight before me, my heart beating like a damn freight train. They’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, knees touching, giggling uncontrollably over some shared secret, flour coating their hair and faces, and complete adoration reflected back at one another.

  I stand there and watch them, my soul aching in the best fucking way possible at how I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the earth. I’ve been to Hell and back, but it was worth every goddamn second for what I feel right now … feelings that aren’t so fucking foreign any more.

  The ones
I can’t imagine living a lifetime without.

  The giggles stop as a pair of green eyes look up at me from beneath dark lashes, freckles on his scrunched nose dusted with flour, and a lopsided smirk on his lips. He just looks at me, gauging if I’m going to get upset at the mess he obviously played a part in.

  Then violet eyes look up at me, that soft smile, on those lips I love, directed straight at me. And I silently marvel at how that simple smile gets me every fucking time, no matter how many years have passed. It has me wanting to pull her into my arms, share all my secrets, and fuck her senseless simultaneously.

  Her voodoo powers still in full fucking effect.

  And fuck if I’d want it any other way.

  I fight the smile creeping onto my lips because I’m the biggest fucking softie when it comes to him—a fact I deny regularly—and try to act tough. “What’s going on here?” I ask, stepping into the room as Rylee pats her hands together and a plume of flour flies into the air like a dust cloud around her, causing them to erupt into another fit of giggles.

  I walk over to them, flour coating the soles of my bare feet, and squat down beside them. My eyes dart back and forth over them before I reach out and place a dot of flour on his nose with my finger. “Looks like you guys made quite a mess,” I say, trying to play the part of disciplinarian but failing miserably.

  “Well thanks, Captain Obvious!” he giggles at me, sarcasm in full swing.

  “Ace Thomas!” Ry reprimands our son, but his words have already knocked me on my ass.