K. Bromberg - Driven

I try to catch my breath and my bearings by placing my hand against the wall and trying to steady myself. What the hell am I thinking? I’m making out in the doorway at work. For the second time . What the hell is this guy doing to me? When I’m around him it’s as if I’ve lost all sense of reality. I can’t do this. I just can’t. I’m shaken. Really shaken. No one has ever elicited such a blatant carnal reaction from me, and it scares me.

Colton stands across from me calm as can be, keenly watching me. Why do I feel as if I have just run a marathon and he looks like his is an uninterested bystander? He exhibits no indication beyond his mussed hair of what has just occurred.

I finally find my voice. “You’re right,” I say ruefully, “I most definitely should stay away from you.” I look back toward the hallway as I catch a slight grimace glance across his face. “I need to check on the boys. You can see yourself out,” I tell him as I turn abruptly and walk back toward my responsibilities. My reality.

I enter the great room trying to plaster a natural smile on my face, failing miserably. All the boys are where I left them and for that I am thankful—glad that no one ventured in the hallway to see their guardian acting like a teenager filled with raging hormones.

Something in my periphery catches my eye. I turn to see Colton standing at the edge of the hallway, thumbs hanging in the pockets of his jeans, shoulder casually leaning against the wall. His face is expressionless, but those iridescent eyes say so much more.

What now? Can’t he just leave me alone?

I glare at him, hoping my angst is reflected in my eyes. I see that Shane has taken notice of the stranger standing in his home. He turns his attention to Colton, sizing him up. His face scrunches up as he contemplates the stranger, trying to place his familiarity.

“What do you want?” I scowl despite trying to keep the contempt out of my voice. The last thing the boys need to witness right now is a confrontation. I notice Kyle and Ricky’s heads pop up to look over the table like a pair of meerkats.

Colton glances at the boys, smiles politely at them although I can see the tension in his eyes. “I told you, Rylee, I’m here to collect my winnings,” he drawls. “To collect what’s mine.” He smiles insolently at me, waiting for my reaction, trying to push my buttons.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You owe me a date, Ryles.”

I can see the boys have all turned their attention to the two of us now. The basketball game has been forgotten. Shane is smirking for he is old enough to sense sexual tension when he sees it even if he doesn’t quite understand it.

Colton walks toward me purposely placing his back to our audience, blocking me from their vision so they can’t watch our interaction. I am grateful when he stops and stands at a respectful distance from me.

“Sorry, Ace,” I say sweetly so only he can hear me. “Hell hasn’t frozen over yet. I’ll let you know when it does.”

He takes a step closer to me, his voice just above a whisper, “It seems you know all about being cold, Rylee. Why stay frigid when you know I can heat you up?”

His targeted words take their direct hit right at my self-esteem. I seethe anger at his arrogance but know I must calm myself down before I cause a scene here at work, in front of my kids.

I break my glare from Colton when something over his shoulder catches my attention. I step to the side so that I can get a better look at what it is. I stifle a gasp as I watch Zander, holding his stuffed animal tightly, move slowly around the couch toward us. He has a curious look on his usually stoic face as he approaches.

Colton turns around to see what I’m reacting to. He starts to ask me a question, and I raise my hand up forcefully telling him to be quiet. Fortunately, he complies. The other boys in the room have all turned to watch, expectant expressions on their faces for this is the first time that Zander has ever purposely taken the initiative to interact with someone.

Zander walks up to us, staring at Colton, his mouth opening slightly and closing several times. His eyes are saucers in his pale face. I kneel down to be at eye level with him. I sense Colton next to me trying to grasp the seriousness of my reaction.

“Hi there,” I hear Colton say gently.

Zander stops and just stares. I fear that something about Colton’s looks or that he is wearing has triggered a reaction in Zander. Some negative memory that is forcing him to come see for himself if it’s real. I’m waiting for the fallout to start—the screaming, the fighting, and the terror to fill his eyes.

“Zander. It’s okay, baby,” I croon to him, wanting to break through his trance, letting him know that a familiar, comforting voice is nearby. I turn my head slightly toward Colton, locking my eyes with his, “You need to leave now!” I order him, afraid of what Zander sees in him.

Against my wish, Colton steps forward and slowly crouches down beside me. I hear his boots squeak on the tile for the house is quiet. One of the boys must have muted the television.

“Hey, buddy,” he soothes, “How ya doin’? You okay?”

Zander takes a step closer to Colton and a smile ghosts his mouth. My eyes widen. He is not scared but rather likes Colton. I quickly glance to Colton, afraid to miss anything Zander does, and he holds my gaze, nodding his head in acknowledgement. He understands that something is happening. Something important. Something that he needs to be careful and take caution with.

“Zander is it?” Haunted eyes meet Colton’s, and then he moves his head in a small, discernible nod. I suck in my breath, tears threatening as I watch a small breakthrough happening. “So Zander, do you like racing?”

I can hear the boys in the family begin murmuring excitedly as realization of who stands in their house dawns on them. The boys get louder until they see me staring intensely at them, and they become silent.

Colton holds his hand out to Zander, “Nice to meet you, Zander. My name is Colton.”

For the second time in three days, I am rendered speechless. My head is reeling at the sight of little Zander slowly reaching out and placing his hand to shake the hand of the man next to me.

I watch the first steps of a little boy breaking free from the devastating grasp of a violent trauma. His first time initiating physical contact with someone in over three months.

Colton holds Zander’s small hand in his, shaking it gently. When they finish their greeting, Zander keeps his hand there with no indication that he wants to move it. Colton obliges and just holds the tiny hand, a soft smile on his face.

Tears burn as I hold them back. I want to jump up and shout in excitement at this breakthrough. I want to grab Zander and hug him and tell him how proud I am of him. I do none of these for the power of this moment is so much greater than any of these things put together.

“I’ll tell you what, Zander, if Rylee here agrees to the date with me that she’s trying to get out of,” Colton says never breaking eye contact with him, “then I’ll take you as my personal guest to the track the next time we test. How’s that?”

A ghost of a smile returns to Zander’s lips, his eyes lighting up for the first time, as he nods his head yes.

I hold my hand over my heart to press on the ache there as joy races through me. Finally! And all because Colton followed me in the house. All because he didn’t listen to me. All because he’s using one of my kids to blackmail me into going out with him. I could kiss him right now! Well, I guess I’ve already done that, but I could do it again. At this point, I’ll do anything Colton asks me to do just to see the smile on Zander’s face again.