I stop and turn to look at her one last time. “Hey, Ryles? No more running away from me.”
I flash her a quick grin before I leave and I wonder who I’m talking to about not running away, her or me.
LIFE BEGINS AT THE END of your comfort zone. I think about Haddie’s advice as I get ready for my date with Colton. The song in the background makes me smile. It is the song that Colton’s earlier text referred to:
Dress casual. Since you still seem to run away rather than talk to me, I’ll use your method of communication to relay my message. Taio Cruz, Fast Car. See you at six.
Haddie had smiled knowingly when I showed her the text and scrambled for her iPad to play the song for me. We laughed out loud at the song’s words. “I want to drive you like a fast car.” Perfectly fitting for Colton to send.
We then scrambled to find a song I could send back to him. “Something to make him think about you the rest of the day and knock his socks off,” Haddie had said while scrolling through her vast library of music. After several minutes of silence, she yelled, “I’ve got the perfect song, Rylee!”
“What is it?”
“Just listen,” she said as the opening line of the song began. I started laughing out loud, knowing the song and liking the sexiness of it. Before we knew it, Haddie and I were dancing around the living room singing at the top of our lungs. The song was perfect! Sexy, suggestive, and confident—everything I felt but was too shy to be in front of him. So before I lost my nerve, I grabbed my phone and texted Colton back:
Nice song, Ace. It fits you perfectly. Now, I’ve got one for you that fits me. Mya, My love is like whoa! I’ll be waiting for you at six.
A few minutes later, I received a response back:
Shit. Now I’m hard. Six o’clock.
I smile at the thought of our earlier exchange, a small thrill running through me that I have such an effect on him. I look in the mirror and scrutinize my outfit, heeding Colton’s advice from the text to dress casual. I have my favorite True Religion jeans on with a violet-colored cashmere sweater that has capped sleeves and a sexy but tasteful low V-neckline. I’ve forgone the Haddie makeover tonight, opting to do my own make-up and hair. My make-up is natural and light: a little blush, some lip-gloss, smudged eyeliner, and thick mascara to highlight my eyes. Despite playing around with my hair for a while, I opt to keep it down, my curls loose on my back. I add simple diamond studs to my ears and some gold bangles to my wrist.
I twist my ring around and around on my finger, contemplating whether I should wear it or not. I take it off and look at it—three thin, wavy, intertwined diamond bands. Past, present, and future. I can still hear him whisper those words in my ear as we stared at it on my finger the night he proposed. I close my eyes and smile at the memory, surprised when the tears that usually threaten don’t come. I play with it a moment more before hesitantly twisting it off. I stare at it for a beat before I place it in my jewelry box. I pick it back up in indecision, a war of emotions raging inside of me.
Fresh start, I remind myself with a deep, steadying breath, and place it back in the box. I’ve worn the ring everyday for three years. I feel naked without it, both inside and out. I wiggle my fingers and look at the lighter band of skin that had been protected from the sun. I feel a weight lifting off of me and at the same time a sadness that it’s time to move on. I kiss the spot on my finger and say a silent I love you to Max, taking a moment to absorb the importance of this moment before turning to do my last minute touch-ups in the mirror.
I’m slipping on my black, heeled boots when the doorbell rings. I press a hand to my belly, finding it oddly strange that I’m nervous. The man has seen me naked, and yet I still have butterflies. Haddie calls out to me that she’ll answer the door. I grab my cropped leather jacket and purse, check myself in the mirror one last time, and make my way down the hallway. I nervously run my hands over my sides and hips, smoothing down my shirt, the clicking from the heels of my boots muted by the runner on the hardwood floor. I hear Colton laugh out loud as I turn the corner near the family room.
His back is to me when I enter the room. I suck in my breath when I see him. A pair of dark blue jeans hang low on his hips, hugging his ass and thighs. The man can fill out denim, no question about that. His broad shoulders and strong back stretch the cotton of his plain white T-shirt. The back of his hair curls up at the nape of his neck, and I itch to run my fingers through it. He oozes sex appeal, smolders with rebellion, and radiates confidence. One look at him makes me crave and want and fear all at once. And he’s all mine for the night.
Before Haddie can acknowledge my entrance, Colton stops mid-sentence. My body tightens at the anticipation, and the deep-seated ache he’s awakened in me rises to new heights as he looks over his shoulder, his body sensing my presence. I swear I can feel the air crackle with electricity as our eyes meet, our bodies vibrating.
“Rylee.” My name comes out in a breath, the single word laced with so much promise for the night.
“Hi, Ace.” It’s impossible to mask my pleasure at seeing him again. I smile, hoping he sees how much I want to spend time with him and fearing he might read the emotions simmering beneath the excitement.
We step toward each other as he flashes his megawatt grin at me. I fumble with the strap of my purse anxiously as he simply stares at me. “Gorgeous as ever,” he murmurs finally after I feel like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. He reaches out and runs his hand up and down my bare arm, the contact casual but powerful. “You ready?”
Two simple words. That’s all they are really, but Colton makes those two simple words sound seductive. I nod my head and murmur, “Hmmm-hmmm,” and am caught off guard as he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. Such a simple gesture but so unexpected from someone like him.
“Let’s go, then.”
I glance over my shoulder and flash a smile at Haddie, my silent goodbye. I catch the quick thumbs up she flashes me before we leave.
Colton places his hand on the small of my back as he walks me toward the Range Rover, the simple placement of his hand a comfort to my unsettled nerves. Before he reaches for the passenger side door handle, Colton moves the hand from my lower back around to my stomach and pulls me into him so his body ghosts mine. I hold my breath, the unexpected contact with him awakening the smoldering burn he’s set fire to. He wraps his other arm around my shoulders and lowers his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of my neck. The warmth of his breath, the sandpaper feel of his shadowed beard, the suggested intimacy of the touch, and the rare glimpse at the affectionate side of Colton causes me to close my eyes momentarily to steady myself and quiet the mixture of sensations rioting inside of me.
“Thank you for saying yes, Ryles,” he murmurs before kissing the hollow spot just below my ear. “Now, let me show you a good time.” I angle my head against his cheek and close my eyes enjoying the firm heat of him against me. And all too soon he’s released me from his arms and is opening the car door for me, ushering me in.
By the time Colton has reached the driver’s side, his brooding silence has returned. He clicks his seatbelt and glances over at me. Despite the apprehension I see flickering in his eyes, he reaches over and places a hand on my knee, squeezing it in reassurance.
We drive in a comfortable silence as I watch the tree lined street of my neighborhood pass by us. The moon is out, full and bright, lighting up the warm January night sky. I look over at Colton, the dash lights casting a glow on his face. A shock of his dark hair has fallen haphazardly over his forehead, and I watch his eyes, framed by thick lashes, scan the road ahead of us. The line of his profile is stunning with his imperfect nose, strong bone structure, and sensually sculpted lips. My gaze trails down to take in his strong arms and competent hands on the wheel. The combination of dark hair, translucent eyes, and bronzed skin mixed with the potency of his indifferent attitude—an attitude that makes you want to be the one who matters and be the one who can break through that tough ext
erior—that combination, it should be illegal. He really does take one’s breath away.
When I look back at his face, Colton glances over at me and his eyes hold my gaze before flicking back to the road. A shy smile forms on his lips, his only acknowledgement of my quiet observation of him. The car revs, gunning forward on the freeway, and I laugh at him.
“What?” he feigns innocently, squeezing my knee.
“You like to go fast don’t you, Ace?” I realize the innuendo the minute I say it.
He looks over at me, a wicked grin on his lips, enunciating every word of his answer. “You have no idea, Rylee.”
“Actually, I think I do,” I reply wryly. Colton throws his head back in a full-bodied laugh and shakes his head at me. “No, seriously. What is it about speed that’s so attractive to you?”
He mulls it over momentarily before answering. “Trying to tame …” He stops to reconsider his answer. “No, rather trying to control the uncontrollable, I guess.”
“That’s a fitting metaphor if I’ve ever heard one.” And I can’t help but wonder if he’s referring to something deeper.
“Whatever do you mean?” He plays along innocently.
“Someone once told me that I should research my dates.” I look over at him, his eyebrows rising at my comment. “Quite the wild child, aren’t we?”
Colton gives me his brighter than the sun megawatt smile. “No one can ever claim that I’m boring or predictable,” he muses, looking over his shoulder to change lanes. “Besides, outrunning your demons has a way of doing that to you.” Before I can even process the words, Colton skillfully changes the subject. “Food or fun first?”
I want to ask questions, figure out what he means by his comment, but I bite my tongue and answer. “Fun. Definitely fun!”
“Good choice,” he responds, before muttering a curse when his cell phone rings on the car speaker. “Sorry,” he apologizes before tapping a button on the steering wheel.
The screen on the dash says the name Tawny, and I immediately bristle at the sight. Researching my date certainly gave me more information than just his run-ins with trouble. I now know what Tawny looks like, that she’s been his date to numerous functions over the years, and this is the second out of the last three times I’ve been with Colton that she’s called him. My sudden pang of jealousy surprises me, but it only gets stronger when I hear Colton’s familiarity with her.
“Hey, Tawn. You’re on speaker,” he warns.
“Oh!” I can’t help but find a tiny bit of joy when I hear the surprise in her voice. “I thought that you’d called it off with Raq—”
“I have,” he responds in a clipped tone. “What do you need, Tawny?” he says with irritation in his tone.
What a bitchy comment from her. What if I had been Raquel in the car with him? I sense her staking a claim on her territory, Colton.
Silence fills the line. “Oh. Um. I was just calling to tell you that the formal letters went out today for the sponsorship.” When he doesn’t say a word, she continues, “That’s it.”
What? She works for him? With him? On a daily basis? That’s just what I need filling my head as jealousy rears it’s bitchy head. Fucking lovely.
“Great. Thanks for letting me know.” And with that he pushes a button and the line disconnects abruptly. Colton sighs out loud and a part of me is happy at his impatience.
“Sorry,” he says again, and I’m sure he’s referencing Tawny’s mention of Raquel. So they were an item. She just wasn’t some chick he found at the club. The catty side of me at least revels in the fact it was me he left with that night. The compassionate side of me winces for I know that Colton isn’t someone who would be easy to get over.
“No biggie.” I shrug as I take notice of our location. We’re heading out of the city, the opposite direction from where I would expect to be going.
We ride in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes then Colton turns a corner and the bright lights of a Ferris wheel light up the sky. I glance over at him, and my heart tumbles slowly upon seeing the boyish grin on his face. Colton drives between the flagged gates and pulls the car slowly down the bumpy, dirt road.
My eyes widen at the scene before me. The dirt field is crammed with every typical carnival ride one can imagine, complete with a flashing sign for a Midway section with games impossible to win and signs advertising horribly fattening food. I’m so excited.
He parks the car and turns to me. “Is this okay?” he asks, and I swear I can hear nerves tinge his voice, but I know that’s not possible. Not from the ultra-confident, always-sure-of-himself Colton Donavan. Or is it?
I nod my head, bottom lip between my teeth as he exits the car and comes around my side to open my door. “I’m excited,” I tell him as he takes my hand and helps me out. He shuts the door and turns to me, my back against the car. His eyes blaze with desire as he stares at me, brings his hands up to the side of my neck, and brushes his thumbs over my cheeks.
I can see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he shakes his head softly, silently responding to some internal conflict that causes a ghost of a smile to play on his lips. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted to do this since I left your house this morning.” He leans in, eyes still connected with mine. “Since I got your text.” He raises his eyebrows. “You intoxicate me, Rylee.” His words surge into my soul as he closes the distance between us.
His mouth captures mine in a dizzying kiss, tempting me with his addictive taste so I’m left fighting to regain my equilibrium. His mouth possesses mine with a quiet demand, yet the kiss is so full of tenderness, so packed with unnamed emotions, that I don’t want it to end.
But it does, and I’m left to grip my fingers onto his biceps to steady myself. He kisses my nose softly before murmuring, “You ready to have some fun?”
I don’t know how he expects me to respond since he just stole my breath, but after a moment I manage to say, “Definitely!” as he releases me to open the rear door. He pulls out a black baseball hat, well worn with a threadbare spot on the tip of the bill. The logo is a sewn-on patch of a tire with two wings coming out from the hub, and it’s curled up at the edges.
Colton tugs it down on his head, using both hands to adjust the brim properly before turning to me with an embarrassed grimace. “Sorry. It’s just easier in the long run if I try to go incognito from the start.”
“No problem,” I say, reaching up to tug on the lip. “I like it!”
“Oh, really?” He grabs my hand and we begin weaving through the parked cars toward the entrance.
“Yeah, I kinda have a thing for baseball players,” I tease, looking over at him and keeping my face straight.
“Not race car drivers?” he asks, tugging on my hand.
“Not particularly,” I deadpan.
“I guess I’ll have to work a little harder to persuade you then,” he says suggestively.
“That might take a lot of persuading.” I smile playfully at him, his eyes hidden by the shadow cast from the lid of his cap. I swing our hands back and forth. “Do you think you’re up for the challenge, Ace?”
“Oh, Rylee …” he chides, “Don’t ask for something you can’t handle. I told you, I can be very persuasive. Don’t you remember the last time you dared me?” He tugs me closer and puts his arm around my shoulders.
How can I forget? I’m here right now because of that pseudo-dare.
We approach the ticket booth, and Colton releases his hold on me to buy our tickets as well as a wristband giving us complete access to all rides and games at the carnival. We enter through the gates, Colton tugging his hat down low, covering his eyes, before placing his hand on my lower back. The smell of dirt, frying oil, and barbeque fill my nose while my eyes take in the dazzling, blinking lights. I can hear the rush of the small roller coaster to the right of us, along with the screams of its riders as it plunges downwards. Little kids wander around with dazed looks, clutching balloons in one little hand, holding tightly to a parent with the oth
er. Teenagers walk hand in hand, thinking they’re so cool that they’re here without their parents. I can’t help my smile because despite my age, I’m excited—I haven’t been to a carnival like this since I was their age.
“Where to first?” Colton asks as we stroll lazily hand in hand down the Midway, smiling and politely refusing the offers to “win a prize” from the game vendors.
“The rides definitely,” I tell him as I look around. “Not sure which one yet, though.”
“A girl after my own heart!” He pats his free hand against his chest, smiling at me.
“Adrenaline junkie!” I tell him, bumping my hip up against his thigh.
“Damn straight!” he laughs as we approach what appears to be the center of “Ride Alley” as the sign above us advertises. “So which one, Ryles?”
I look around at the rides, noting several different women staring at us. At first I worry that they recognize Colton, but then realize they are probably just looking at the hot guy standing beside me.
“Hmmmm.” I contemplate all of the rides, settling on a long-running favorite. I point toward the ride closest to us. “I used to love this as a kid!”
“Good old Tilt-A-Whirl.” Colton laughs, tugging me in its direction. “C’mon, let’s go.” His enthusiasm is endearing. A man who whirls hundreds of miles an hour around a track, rubs elbows with some of the brightest stars in Hollywood, and could be somewhere upscale right now, is excited about going on a simple carnival ride. With me. I have to pinch myself.
We get in line to wait our turn. He bumps me softly with his shoulder. “So tell me more about you, Rylee.”
“Is this the job interview part of the date?” I tease playfully. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s your story? Where you’re from? What’s your family like? What are your secret vices?” he suggests, grabbing my hand in his again and raising it to his lips. The simple sign of affection sneaks over the protective wall around my heart.