K. Bromberg - Fueled

“What?”

“Bailey didn’t seem to get the memo that Colton’s no longer on the market.”

“She can have him.” I snort, rolling my eyes as I see him dart another glance over at me. Dane looks at me oddly, and I realize that I’ve let our little no-longer-seeing-each other predicament slip. I’ve purposely kept what has happened quiet, not wanting anyone at the company to get wind that Colton and I are at odds so it wouldn’t get back to Teddy. It’s really been easy since I never spoke about it anyway; rather I just let the rumors run without confirming or denying them.

“Uh-oh.” Dane smirks, always one for juicy gossip. “Sounds like trouble in paradise.”

“Paradise is most definitely not the word I’d use to describe it,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off of Colton. “Try a sinking ship without life preservers and a whole shitload of issues.”

“Everybody’s got issues, honey. Too bad he doesn’t swing my way because I could definitely take care of any mommy issues he may have by making sure he tends to my big daddy issue if you catch my drift.” He wags his eyebrows playfully.

“Eew gross!” I slap his shoulder but burst out laughing. I can’t help it. It’s the first good laugh I’ve had in weeks, and it feels good to just let go.

“I have a feeling there are going to be fireworks in St. Petersburg, and it’s nowhere near the fourth of July.” Dane snickers.

I have a serious case of the giggles, my catharsis over my pent up emotions happening at the oddest time, and several of the boys look at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. “Okay...c’mon you guys,” I say, struggling to contain my laughter, “it’s time to cut the cake.”

Everyone gathers around the table, Shane sitting in front of the cake as we light the candles and sing to him. His face full of excitement when he closes his eyes to make his wish, and I wonder what it is he is hoping for. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying a piece, so I slip inside to bring the ice cream back to the freezer and clean off the knife. I shut the freezer door and jump out of my skin when I see Colton standing there in the kitchen.

“ Who’s the Brit ?”

“Jesus! You scared me!”

I keep my hand on the refrigerator handle, unsure what to do as we just stare at each other. Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve wished that I could rewind time and take back those three little words that I’d said, but I realize right now in this moment—as he stands before me so achingly beautiful inside and out—that I don’t think I would. I did love him. I still love him. And he needed someone to tell him so that at some point in the future he can look back and accept the fact that he is worthy of such a love. I just don’t know if I’m willing to stick around and accept the pain that I’m positive he’ll inflict on the person willing to assert such a notion.

“Sorry.” He smirks halfheartedly, but the smile never reaches his eyes. Rather, I sense irritation and impatience from him. “ Who is he ?” he demands again, and there is no masking his annoyance now. “Is he with you because you sure looked cozy? You moved on awfully quick, Rylee.”

Every part of me that sagged in relief at seeing him here tonight is now bristling with irritation. Who the hell does he think he is coming here and accusing me of having a date? If he thought this was the right way to start our conversation, he’s sadly mistaken.

“Seriously, Colton?” I roll my eyes using Shane’s word, not wanting to deal or spend the time to assuage Colton’s fragile ego. When he just stands there and stares at me, I relent for the sake of not making a scene despite the jealous, alpha-male tantrum he’s throwing. “He’s a counselor here.” I huff out.

He angles his head and stares at me, muscle ticking in his jaw, eyes piercing. “ Have you fucked him?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business.” I sneer at him, anger rising as I try to brush past him.

He reaches out and grabs my bicep, holding me in place so my shoulder hits the middle of his chest. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my arm and hear his uneven breathing as I stare straight ahead. “Everything about you is my business, Rylee.” A disgusted snort is my only response. “Did you?”

“Hypocrite. Unlike you, Ace, I don’t make a habit of fucking the people that work for me.” I tilt my chin up and look into his eyes to let him see the anger, hurt, and defiance brimming in mine. The grimace he emotes on his otherwise stoic countenance lets me know I’ve made my point. We just stand like this for a moment, staring at each other. “Why are you here, Colton?” I eventually ask with resignation.

“Shane invited me to his birthday party.” He shrugs, taking his hand from my arm and shoving both hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I couldn’t let him down just because you refuse to see me.”

What can I say to that? How can I be mad at him for being here, when he’s here for one of the boys?

“And because…” He runs a hand through his hair and steps back while he struggles to figure out what to say next. He blows out an audible breath and is about to speak again when Shane comes barreling into the house.

“We’re going to…open presents now,” he finishes after looking back and forth from Colton and me, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he tries to figure out the dynamic between the two of us.

I inhale deeply; glad to be saved because I don’t think I’d made my mind up on what to do just yet. My heart tells me I want to listen to him, understand what happened, and figure out where to go from here. But my head, my head tells me, “ Quack .”

“Presents!” I repeat as I walk out of the kitchen and brush past Colton without acknowledging his comment.

Shane’s excitement is more than contagious to the rest of us bystanders as he opens his gifts. His eyes are full of excitement, and his smile reflects a teenager who feels loved. I stand on the fringe of the crowd, watching the action and reflecting a bit on what a good job we’re doing here with these boys. It’s odd how sometimes it just hits you, and right now is one of those moments. I lean against the beam of the patio cover as Shane lifts his last present up and shakes it as the little ones yell out what they think it might be.

It’s a flat rectangular box that I hadn’t seen on the table before, and I take a step closer to see what it is, my curiosity getting the better of me. Shane rips the paper off and when he opens the box, a card slides out. He turns the card over in his hand, and when he sees nothing on the envelope, he shrugs and tears it open. I watch his eyes widen and his lips fall open as he reads the words inside. His head snaps up and he searches the partygoers to meet Colton’s eyes. “Seriously?” he asks, incredulity in his voice.

I’m curious as to what’s written in the card and my sight focuses on Colton’s as a shy smile spreads across his lips, and he shakes his head, “Seriously, Shane.”

“ You’re shittin’ me ?”

“Shane!” Dane snaps out at him in warning, and Shane’s cheeks turn red as he blushes at the reprimand.

Colton laughs out loud. “No, I’m not. Keep your grades up and I will . I promise .”

Still mystified as to what the two of them are talking about, I ease out of the shadows and walk up to Shane. He holds the card out for me to see. The card is a typical birthday card, but it’s the penmanship inside that makes my heart flop.

Happy Birthday, Shane! What I remember the most about turning 16 is wanting desperately to learn how to drive…so this card entitles you to driving lessons—from me. (I get to pick the car though…and the Aston is off limits). Have a good one bud. –Colton