K. Bromberg - Driven

“A break-through is so important to healing invisible wounds.” I know he understands these words more than most. He reaches out and wipes the lone tear that spills over. That simple sign of compassion leaves me shaken. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the feelings he has for me in them. I just wish he could see them himself. He slips his sunglasses on his face, shielding my ability to read more from them, and holds his hand out to me. “Come walk me to the pits?”

When I just stand there staring at him, confusion etching my face, he answers for me by grabbing my hand and tugging it so that I am forced to go along with him. We walk in silence, both occupied by our own thoughts. So many questions I want to ask remain unspoken on my lips for this is not the right time or place for them. I place a hand on my stomach to settle the nerves fluttering there.

“Why do you seem so nervous when I’m the one that’s going to be hurling myself around the track at two hundred miles an hour?”

I stop and look at him and am unable to see through his dark lenses, wondering if he really doesn’t get that spending time with him, being with him when I can’t have him, does this to me. Has me walking on eggshells and thinking of what ifs. I decide to take the easy way out. “I’m nervous for you. Aren’t you ever afraid that you are going to crash?”

“Oh, I’ve crashed plenty of times, Ryles.” He lifts his sunglasses so that our eyes can meet. “Sometimes you need to crash a couple of times to learn your mistakes, and then when the smoke clears, sometimes you’re better off in the end. Lesson learned in case there is a next time.” He shrugs, squeezing my hand and smiling shyly, “Besides, sometimes the dents just add more character in the long run. Looking pretty can only last so long.” Our eyes hold each other’s, and I know he is talking about more than racing. My eyes beseech his, silently asking the questions I’m afraid to voice, but he slips his glasses back on, pretending he didn’t see them. He tugs on my hand again to start walking, our linked fingers the only answer I receive.

I try to think of something to say to add some levity to our walk. “Aren’t you supposed to have a pre-race face on or something saying you’re in the zone ?”

“Something like that,” he laughs at me, “but it’s not a race today. Besides, I usually get that way once I walk on to pit row. It pisses my sister off to no end.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can just tune everything and everyone out instantly,” he says wryly, a diminutive smile on his beautiful lips.

“Typical male,” I laugh shaking my head. “Thanks for the warning, Ace.”

“And she says I look mean. I try and tell her its just part of my job but she doesn’t buy it.” We walk for a bit more in silence, a smile on my lips. I can hear an engine revving off to my left and hear the clatter of a wrench on concrete somewhere to my right. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come today.” His words surprise me. I think I do a pretty good job of hiding it on my face. “I thought you might send another counselor in your place instead.”

“No,” I murmur as we stop at the corner of a building, and I look up at him. Doesn’t he realize that even when he pushes me away I am irrefutably drawn to him? That I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to? “I wanted to see you in your element. Watch the boys experience it.”

He watches me for a moment, nodding at someone who walks past before returning his eyes to mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” I mouth back to him, fighting the urge to avert my eyes due to the intensity in his.

“This is as far as I go,” he tells me, leaning back against the wall, propping one foot back behind him.

“Oh.” He runs his thumb over my knuckles on the hand he is holding.

A slow mischievous smile spreads across his lips. “Don’t I get a good luck kiss, Rylee?” He tugs on my hand and has me falling against him. He splays his free hand against my back, holding me up against the solidity of him.

His warnings, his mixed signals, the hurt he’s caused all vanish when my eyes flutter up to see his sensual lips inches from mine. Every muscle beneath my waist clenches in desire. I close my eyes momentarily, wetting my lips with my tongue, before opening them back up to meet the clear green of Colton’s. Why the hell not? It’s not like the term levelheaded has been in my vocabulary the past few weeks when it comes to him anyway. Sensibility slips through my fingers like sand when I am near him. “It’s the least I can do,” I murmur to him as he removes his baseball cap.

All sense of reason and modesty at our surroundings vanish the minute his lips capture mine. I pour all of the pent up hurt and emotion and need from the past few days into our kiss, and I know that I can taste the same in his response as well. The pressure of his hand on my back urges me on, tempts me to run my hands up his chest, skim fingers on his neckline, and tangle in his hair curling at the back of his neck. Our hearts pound against each other as we each take what we need regardless of the impasse we find ourselves at.

Our surroundings slowly seep into my conscious as I hear someone shout out “Get a room, Donavan!”

I feel Colton’s smile against my lips as he breaks the kiss and turns his head to the right and yells laughing, “Fuck off, Tyler! You’re just jealous!”

I hear a loud chuckle as Colton turns his head back to me, and I run my hands down to frame his face. “Good luck, Ace!”

We stare at each other a beat before he leans back down and brushes a tender kiss on my lips. A silent goodbye now that I am more confused then ever. “Remind me to bring you to my next race?”

“What? Why?”

“Because if that’s how you kiss me good luck when I’m just testing, I can’t wait to see what it’s like when I’m really racing!” He raises his eyebrows, a playful smile turning the corners of his mouth, and he squeezes his hands that hold my waist. I laugh out loud at him allowing myself the moment to relax.

“Colton?”

I turn to look into the startled eyes of a stunning woman a few feet to our left. She has a classic beauty that reminds me a lot of Haddie. She has tendrils of blonde hair that cascade around her shoulders, her caramel colored eyes regard me pensively, and her full, painted lips purse as she takes me in. I feel a punch in the stomach for despite being pressed against Colton, in the split second I have to size her up, I can see true adoration and love in her eyes toward him. Something about her is different though, and the feelings I see in her eyes are much more intense than say Tawny’s or Raquel’s.

Will the endless barrage of women in love with Colton ever end?

“Impeccable timing as usual,” Colton grates through gritted teeth without even looking at her. I look back at him, slightly confused as he kisses the tip of my nose and pulls back. “Rylee, meet my annoying little sister, Quinlan.”

“Oh!” This makes sense now! I extricate myself from Colton’s arms, the interruption not allowing me to even think about our intimate exchange. I hold out my hand in greeting to her, my cheeks blushing in color at the thought of the first impression she must have of me. “Hi. I’m Rylee Thomas.”

Quinlan looks at me up and down and then to my outstretched hand before eyeing Colton, an incredulous expression on her face. She shakes her head at him, a warning look in her eye as she completely disregards my hand. I let it fall as Colton sighs a warning to her, “Quin?” She just looks at him like a mother does when scorning her child. He glares back at her. “Q, quit being rude. I’ll be right there. I’m a little busy right now.”