K. Bromberg - Driven

“Well, hello there.” I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when I speak to him.

“Still think I’m faking it?”

“No,” I laugh freely as he stops in front of me.

“Well, as long as you’re not, then I’m doing my job correctly,” he quips suggestively reaching out a hand to tug on an errant curl.

I just shake my head at him with a soft smile on my face before taking a deep breath. Faking it is definitely a not a necessity when it comes to Colton in the bedroom . We stare at each other, the activity of the garage buzzing around us while we remain static. Entranced in one another.

“You looked good out there, Ace.” I finally manage to say, breaking our silence.

He takes another drink of his Gatorade. “You know nothing about racing, do you?” he laughs as I shake my head laughing with him. “Didn’t think so, but thanks for the compliment.”

“But I have watched it with my brother before, and the boys obviously were googling all about it to make sure they knew as much as possible,” I shrug, glancing over his shoulder to check on the kids. “So, Wood huh?”

He smiles shyly at me. “It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s an old nickname.” I raise eyebrows at him, amusement on my face. “When I first started racing, someone called me Hollywood. The name stuck. Has been shortened to Wood over time. Anyone who calls me it has been around a long time.” He looks back at Beckett for a beat, “Is someone I trust.”

“Don’t let the press get a hold of that or they’d have a field day with it.”

“Believe me, I know,” he laughs.

We both turn our heads as Shane’s laughter fills the garage. Beckett has his arm around his shoulder and is laughing with him while Davis is lifting Ricky into the seat of the car to sit for a picture. “Thank you so much, Colton. For making them feel special for a day.” He turns from watching the boys to look back at me. “For everything. I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to the boys.”

A dark look flashes across his face. “It’s not a big deal,” he shrugs it off, picking at the label on the Gatorade bottle. “I understand that need more than most.” He shifts his attention back to the boys who are alternately getting their chance to sit in the car and get their picture taken. We watch them for a few moments, Colton taking his hat off of his head and running his hands through his hair. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he looks at his watch and then turns his attention back to the boys.

Tawny’s words ring in my ears. Two months, tops. What if she’s right? Even if whatever we have lasts three or four months, I know it won’t be enough. I don’t think any amount of time will be enough to love someone like Colton. He is one of those guys who consumes every part of you. Makes you whole when you never thought you were incomplete to begin with. Gives you strength and makes you weak all at the same time. I know I am capable of loving him like that—like he deserves—but I know I will never get the chance. Tawny may be a catty bitch, but she knows him way better than I do. Between her words, Colton’s own admissions, my Google search, and my own intuition, I just know that I will end up being destroyed if I allow myself to fall in love with Colton. And I just can’t allow that to happen to myself. The rise might be more than fun, but the devastation after the fall will break me. In one way or another, Tawny’s gotten her point across.

Colton breaks through my thoughts. “We have a meeting in ten minutes,” he says turning to look at me. “Can you stay and then I’ll drive you home when it’s over?”

I twist the ring I’d put back on this morning around my finger—a tangible source of comfort to me—wanting desperately to say yes, but the mix of my responsibility with the boys and the self-preservation of my heart dictate a different response. “It’s probably not a good idea, Colton,” I shake my head, avoiding his gaze.

“For who?” he says turning and taking a step closer to me. His scent envelops me—the outdoorsy, clean scent of his cologne mixed with a trace of a man who has put in a hard day’s work.

I eye him warily, trying to keep him at arm’s length emotionally. “For both of us, Colton. You said so yourself the other night.” He takes a step closer to me and I can feel my pulse surge.

“But maybe I think something different today …”

I sigh deeply, telling myself that nothing’s changed since Saturday night. He is who he is, and he’s not going to change. That a few days away from each other has just made him horny, and he wants some relief. That’s all this is. I push his last comment out of my head and try to carry on like he never said it. “Besides, I have to get the boys home. They’re my responsibility.”

He takes another step toward me, and I put my hands up on his chest to prevent him from getting any closer. I don’t think I’d be able to bear the feeling of his body pressed against me. My hands pressing against the firm muscles of his chest makes it hard enough for me to resist him as it is.

Colton takes a hand and lifts my chin up. “What’s wrong, Ry?” His eyes search mine, trying to understand my hesitancy. How can he understand why his idea of a relationship is unacceptable to me when he’s admitted it’s the only thing he knows or will accept? How do I explain that him pushing me away one minute and then kissing me senseless the next is unraveling my grip on my own reality? Is making me question what I might concede in order to have him in my life?

“You,” I whisper.

“Me?” he mouths.

“You confuse me at every turn, Colton.” I shake my head softly and despite telling myself that touching him will only make walking away that much harder, I lift my finger and trace the hem of the neckline on his damp shirt. “One minute you tell me you can’t stay away and the next you tell me you have to keep me at arm’s length because you’re going to hurt me. On Saturday you told me whatever is between us will never work unless I agree to your terms and then today you kiss me breathless.” I step back from him, looking over at the boys getting a tour of some of the items in the garage to avoid having to meet Colton’s gaze. “I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I need. That’s all I know. All I understand, Colton.”

He steps toward me again and tugs on my ponytail, forcing my head to lift and my eyes to meet his. And despite the chaos around us—the boys laughter echoing off the concrete walls, the clang of metal on metal as the car is worked on by mechanics, the sound of an air compressor in the distance—when his eyes hold mine, it all disappears. It’s just him and me. A guy way too irresistible for his own good and a girl in way over her head and heart.

“As much as I keep telling myself that this needs to be—should be—over, Rylee, for both our sakes … I still want you.” He cups the side of my face with his free hand and traces the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Desperately,” he whispers. His words resonate into my heart. “I think about how soft your skin is. The feeling of your body against me. Of it under mine. How you tighten around me when I’m buried in you …” His words mixed with the intensity in his eyes leave me breathless. Has my body vibrating with a deep-seated need for him that I’m not sure will ever be sated. “Christ, Rylee, it … you … are consuming me.” He leans in and brushes a soft, momentary kiss on my lips. The innocence and vulnerability behind it beguiles me. “And I intend to have you again.”

I breathe in a sharp, audible intake of air that gives away what he does to me. I step back from him, holding his gaze for a second longer before looking around the garage to check on the boys. I notice we’ve had some more people join us while we were talking. The perplexed look that passes between Beckett and Quinlan in what I assume is response to our interaction does not go unnoticed by me. I see Davis rounding the boys up, and I know our time here is ending.