Driven

CHAPTER 22

Damn it! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to Aiden. I shouldn’t have told him that I had something to fix what had happened yesterday. I shouldn’t have depended on someone like Colton to come through when I am so used to relying on myself. He hasn’t even answered my texts or calls this morning.

I glance at the clock and another minute has ticked by. It’s seven fifty-two and I need to get the boys into action in order to get them to school on time. Mike’s already left to take Shane and Connor to high school. Bailey has already come and left to take Zander to his therapist’s appointment and Kyle to the eye doctor before dropping him back off at school. I’m left with the remaining three elementary school kids and I know that getting them in the car should have started ten minutes ago.

I glance at the clock again and it’s seven fifty-three now. Shit! “Rylee, are you going to tell me yet what it is yet?” Aiden begs again with hope in his eyes.

“Not yet, Aiden. It’s a surprise.” Now I have to scramble to think of something to do to make up for an empty promise.

I could strangle Colton right now. What did I expect from a careless playboy? I guess if there isn’t a promise of getting laid at the end of the deal then he’s not going to follow through. I pound a fist on the table, the silverware on it rattling, knowing I’m overreacting after how much he did for the boys in taking them to the track. But at the same time, he’s letting down one of my boys and therefore he’s letting me down too.

I start stuffing lunches into the backpacks that Aiden is handing me, concentration etched in his face as he tries to figure out what I can possibly have to help him. “C’mon, guys. It’s time to go!” I shout. Aiden, my little helper, leaves the kitchen to go see what they are up to.

When after a few minutes I don’t hear the usual scurry of feet, I sigh in frustration and head out toward the hallway. “Ricky, Scooter … C’mon, guys, its time to go!” I turn the corner to the hallway and do a double take when I see Colton standing in the foyer with the door open behind him. The sun is at his back, casting his body and dark features in a halo of light. Three little boys stand in front of him, their backs are to me, but I can see all of their heads angled up to look at him. He steps further in the room smiling briefly at me before turning his attention to Aiden.

“So, Aiden,” Colton says and I can see his subtle appraisal of the bruises on Aiden’s sweet little face, “are you ready for school today?”

“What?” he asks bemused before looking back at me, a mix of anticipation and realization on his face. I look back at Colton, wondering what he’s brought to help the situation.

Colton cocks his head to the side, realizing that no one gets what he’s doing here. “I’m taking you guys to school,” he says as silence fills the house before dawning into a realization that causes the boys to start whooping and jumping around like loons. Their excitement is contagious as I feel my own smile widen to match that of Colton’s. He steps forward and kneels down in front of Aiden. “Hey, buddy, what do you say that we go show those bullies that they’re wrong and they can take a hike?” Aiden’s eyes widen, moisture pooling at the corners as he nods excitedly. “Go get your backpacks then,” Colton instructs them as he stands back up.

My eyes follow his ascent, and it is in this moment—his dark features haloed by the bright light of the sun, when he’s come to stand up for children that no one else cares to stand up for anymore—that I know I’ve fallen for Colton. That he has penetrated my heart’s protective exterior and made me love him. I lift my hand and press the heel of it against my breastbone, trying to rub at the sudden ache there. Trying to will his self-professed, ending-filled devastation and hurt away. Trying to tell myself that I cannot let this come to fruition.

Colton looks questioningly at me. “Rylee?”

I shake my head, leaving my thoughts silent. Pushing them down as far they’ll go so they stay hidden. “Sorry,” I shake my head and smile at him as the three boys come barreling back down the hallway toward the front door.

“I guess they’re ready,” he laughs as he ushers the boys out of the house.

***

Colton purposefully revs the engine of the Aston Martin as I direct him into the school parking lot. I’m sitting in the front and the three boys are squeezed tightly together in the backseat, grins on their faces and bodies bristling with excitement. I glance over at Colton and he has a half-smile on his lips as if he is remembering a grade-school memory of his own. I’m about to tell him he can take the shortcut to the drop-off section in front of the school but I bite my tongue. I realize that he is taking a long, slow cruise through the parking lot, gunning the sexy purr of the motor every chance he gets, so that he gets the attention of everyone in the area.

We finally make it to the drop-off line where you are to pull up, let your child out while you stay in the car, and then drive away once your child is walked in to the school gates. Colton swerves around the long line of cars and carefully cruises down a narrow passage between the line and the sidewalk despite the dirty looks given to him. I know he’d love to floor the gas pedal and make a grand entrance, but he refrains. He pulls up right in front of the school’s entrance, angling the car so that the passenger door of the car faces the large crowd of students milling out front before the bell rings. He revs the engine a couple more times, its sound purring in the peacefully quiet morning air, before sliding out of the driver’s seat.

He unfolds his long limbs gracefully and stands a moment in the angle of the opened car door. I can see him raising his arms over his head, stretching with a loud groan, making sure that all available eyes are on him. Recognizing him and who is with him. I glance around and notice the slack jaws of several of the moms near us as they stare openly. I laugh as I watch them try and pat their bed-ridden hair now pulled back into sloppy ponytails into more presentable coifs.

Colton shuts the door and struts slowly around the front of the car toward my side. He opens the door for me and I exit, catching the amusement in his eyes and the gratified smirk on his lips. He squats down on his haunches and flips the seat forward so the boys can exit one at a time.

The looks on their faces are priceless as they take in the surmounting crowd around them. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Principal Baldwin break through the far side of the crowd and his stern face startles at the sight of a car parked improperly in his strictly rule enforced parking zone. I can hear whispers of Colton’s name within the crowd and my smile widens. Colton shuts the door and places himself with Aiden on one side and Ricky and Scooter on the other. He places his forearms and hands on their shoulders, acting as if he is oblivious to the attention. He leans over and I hear him say to Aiden, “Do you see the bullies, buddy?” Aiden looks around the sea of faces, and I see him stiffen when he sees the boys. I follow his line of sight as does Colton to see the stunned expressions of Ashton and Grant. “Well, champ, it’s time to go prove a point.”

We move as a unit toward the two boys, their eyes widening with each step. I’m curious what Colton plans on doing once we reach them. I glance over to see his face relaxed in a huge, approachable grin as we come to a stop in front of Ashton and Grant. In the periphery of my vision, I notice Principal Baldwin scurrying over to us to try and stop any confrontation before it starts.

“Hey, guys!” Colton says enthusiastically and I get the feeling he is going the kill-them-with-kindness route. Both boys just stand here gawking at Colton. He turns to Aiden, “Hey, Aid, are these the boys that didn’t believe your were my buddy?”

I wish I had a camera to take a picture of the complete reverence on Aiden’s face as he looks up toward Colton. His eyes are alive with disbelief, and I can see the pride brimming in them. “Yeah …” Aiden’s voice comes out in a croak. The crowd around us has grown.

“Oh, man,” Colton says to Aston and Grant, “You should’ve seen Aiden on Sunday. I let him bring six of his friends, including Ricky and Scooter here, with him to the track to test out the car,” he shakes his head, “and boy, were they the biggest help to me! We had so much fun!”

I see Ricky and Scooter bristle with pride now as well, and I wonder if Colton has any idea what he is doing, not only to their self-esteem but also to their status here at school. “Too bad you guys aren’t friends of his,” Colton said, shaking his head, “or maybe you could’ve gone too!”

The school bell buzzes around us and yet the color still has not returned to Ashton and Grant’s faces. Principal Baldwin reaches us, slightly out of breath from his exertion, and tries to disperse the crowd by ushering everyone to the doors. He looks down at the boys who are still motionless staring at Colton before giving them a stern look and clearing his throat, making them snap out of it. Colton flashes his mega-watt, no-holds-barred smile and winks at them. “Bye, boys! Make sure you say ‘hi’ to my man Aiden here when you see him in class!” They just nod their heads at Principal Baldwin, forcing themselves to take their eyes off of Colton so that they don’t walk into a wall.

With their children safely inside, mothers remain outside with various inane excuses. The retying of tennis shoes that are already tied, though for some reason their eyes are not on their shoes. The foraging in oversize purses for something that they will never see because their eyes are locked on Colton.

“Boys, you too,” Principal Baldwin tells my three.

Colton looks over at me with question in his eyes and I nod subtly, letting him know this is the dipshit I told him about who favors everyone opposite of Aiden. Colton flashes the same mega-watt smile at him and says, “One moment please, sir. I just need to say bye to my boys.” I didn’t think it was possible for the grins to get wider on the boys’ faces, but they do. Colton turns to talk to the boys and then turns back in second thought to address Principal Baldwin again. “Next time sir, it’d be best to remember that Aiden is telling the truth. It’s the bullies that need to be sent home, not good kids like Aiden here. He may not be perfect, but just because he doesn’t come from a traditional home, doesn’t mean that he’s at fault.” He holds his gaze and then turns his back on the wide-eyed principal, effectively dismissing him. The flustered look on Principal Baldwin’s face is priceless.

Colton kneels down, bringing Ricky, Aiden, and Scooter around in front of him. He raises his eyebrows and grins at them, “I don’t think they’ll be bugging you anymore, Aiden.” He reaches out and ruffles his hair. “In fact, I don’t think anyone will be bugging any of you any more. If so, you let me know, okay?”

All three nod eagerly as Colton rises. “Time to get to class,” I tell them, unable to hide the gratitude in my voice for what Colton has just done. Where I usually get grumbling with those words, today they all obey and seem actually eager to enter the building.

Colton and I stand side by side as the boys walk through the door to the school that Principal Baldwin is holding open for them. Nosy bystanders scurry by, pretending they are not watching. Aiden stops in the doorway and turns around, awe still on his face and says, “Thanks, Colton,” before disappearing inside the building.

When we turn to go back to the car, I catch a look of accomplishment and pride on Colton’s face. I have a feeling mine looks the same way.

***

“Why did you agree to come here if you don’t like coffee?”

Against my better judgment, I’ve agreed to go get some coffee with Colton after leaving the school. I’m still floored at Colton’s actions and feel I at least owe him my time in return for what he’s just done. I can still see the look on Aiden’s face in my head. I don’t think I will ever forget it.

“I may not like the coffee part, but Starbucks has some damn good food for you that is oh-so-bad for you,” I laugh as he shakes his head at me. Kind of like you, Colton.

We place our order amid the furtive glances of the other patrons as Colton is sans baseball hat and not incognito. We shuffle over to a corner that luckily has an empty table with two deep, comfortable-looking chairs on either side of it. We sit down and Colton pulls our muffins out of the bag and sets mine before me.

“You know that after what you did today, you’ve most likely reached idol status with the boys now.”

He rolls his eyes at me and picks a piece of his muffin off and places it in his mouth. I watch it clear his lips and see his tongue dart out to lick a crumb. A flash of desire sears through me. I see the corner of his mouth twist up, and I force myself to look up to his eyes, which have taken notice of where my attention is focused. We stare at each other, unspoken words igniting the heat between us.

The barista at the counter calls out the name “Ace,” and Colton smirks at me before rising from the table motioning that he’ll get the drinks. I watch him walk, his long, lean legs covered in denim with a forest green Henley shirt covering his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the long sleeves pushed halfway up his strong forearms. I watch the barista blush as she hands him our drinks and remain staring as he turns and heads to doctor his coffee.

I stare at him, confusion running through my head. We are so comfortable together. So drawn together. And yet we can’t give each other what the other needs. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I know I won’t be satisfied with just bits and pieces of him. Scraps he’ll throw my way when he deigns to. But that notion confuses me even more since I’ve yet to see him act that way with me thus far. He tells me one thing in regards to how he is with his arrangements, but then acts another way with me. And then to top it off, he warns me off of him constantly because he’s going to hurt me on purpose.

Is he worth it? Colton sinks down into the chair across from me, a soft smile on his lips as he meets my eyes. Yes. He definitely is. But what do I want to do about that?

“Now I can think clearly,” he sighs after swallowing his first sip. At least someone can, because it sure isn’t me.

“It seems to me like you were doing okay before your coffee,” I kid him as I swallow a bite of muffin. He just smirks at me. “I have to tell you again, Colton, thank you so much for showing up and doing that. It was … you were … what you did for Aiden was above and beyond, and I really appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t anything, Rylee,” and he can see that I’m about to argue with him, “but you’re welcome.”

I nod my head and smile shyly at him, glad he has accepted my gratitude. “The look on those brats’ faces was priceless when you walked up!”

He laughs out loud with me. “No, I think the principal’s face was even better,” he counters, shaking his head at the memory. “Maybe next time he’ll think twice before taking sides.”

“Hopefully,” I murmur, taking a tentative sip of my hot chocolate and trying not to burn my tongue. You burned me. Colton’s words pick this moment to flash through my head. I push them to the back of my mind as I take a sip of my drink. The damn man clutters my mind, my overwhelms my senses, and clouds my heart in one fell swoop.

We sit in an easy silence, watching store patrons and sipping our drinks. I put my hot chocolate down and absently fold the corners of my napkin, deciding if I should say the next comment that pops in my head or let it go. Typical me has to get it out. “Colton?” His eyebrows quirk up at the gravity of my tone. “You’re so good with the boys, I mean way better than most people, and yet you tell me you’ll never have any. It’s very perplexing to me.”

I see the shadow glance through his pale green irises at my words. “No, it’s not,” he states as a matter of fact, averting his eyes and looking out the window at my back before continuing. “Having a child and being good with one are two completely different things.” The muscle in his jaw tics as his eyes track something outside in the parking lot. “Mutually exclusive, I guess.”

“Colton, what you did today,” I tell him, reaching out to put my hand on top of his on the table. My touch draws his eyes back to mine. “You showed a little boy that he was worth something. That he was worthy enough to stand up for.” Emotion fills my voice. My eyes try and tell him that I understand. That he did what should have been done for him as a child. Even though I don’t know his circumstances, I know enough in my line of work to see that no one stood up for him or made him feel like he mattered, until he met his Andy Westin.

“Don’t you do that every day, Rylee? Stand up for them?”

I mull over his words as I finish chewing my bite. “I suppose so, but not with your dramatic flair,” I smile. “I guess I’m more behind the scenes. Nowhere near as public and self-confidence boosting as your demonstration was.”

“What can I say,” he picks at the cardboard guard on the coffee cup. “I know what it’s like to be in Aiden’s shoes. To be the odd kid out that doesn’t fit in due to circumstances beyond your control. To be bullied and made fun of just because.” He squeezes my hand. “You get the picture.”

Sympathy engulfs me as I think of a raven-haired little boy with haunted green eyes. Of the pain he experienced and the memories that will forever be etched in his mind. Of the things he missed out on like comforting lips expressing unconditional love, warm arms to cuddle him tight, and fingers to tickle him into fits of deep belly giggles.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rylee,” he warns pulling his hand away from mine and leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want your pity or sympathy.”

“I’m just trying to understand you better, Colton.” My words the only apology that I’ll give him.

“Delving into my dark and dirty past isn’t going to help you understand me any better. That shit,” he waves a hand through the air, “it’s not something I want to haunt you with.”

“Colton—”

“I told you before, Rylee,” his stern voice silencing me, “I’m not one of your kids. My shit can’t be fixed. I’ve been broken for way too long for that miracle to happen.” The look in his eyes—a mix of anger, shame, and exasperation—tell me that this topic of conversation is now over.

An uncomfortable silence hangs between us as I can’t help but wonder what happened to him as a child. What is he so afraid to confront? Why does he think that he’s so broken?

His voice pulls me from my thoughts, turning the focus of conversation from him to me. “What about you, Rylee? You treat these kids like they’re your own. What’s going to happen when one day you meet Mr. Right and have kids of your own? How are you going to balance that?”

Even after two years, the pang that hits me still figuratively knocks me to my knees. I swallow purposely, trying to wash the acrid taste in my mouth his question brings. I pick at the corner of my napkin, watching my fingers rip tiny pieces off as I answer him. “I can’t … after the accident, I was told that getting pregnant, that the chance of having a child, is …” I shake my head sadly, “a very slim possibility. Like basically being on the pill for life. Most likely never going to happen.” Again. I lift my eyes to his, rocking my head subtly from side to side. “So it’s not something I put much thought into.”

I hear him hiss in a breath and can feel the pity roll off him. There is nothing worse than someone giving you that look. The pity look.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his green eyes burning an intense emerald as he studies me.

“It is what it is,” I shrug, not wanting to dwell on what can never be. “I’ve come to terms with it for the most part,” I lie, and in true Colton Donavan fashion I change the subject to something other than me. “So, Ace,” I wriggle my eyebrows, “You looked kind of hot in your race suit!”

He laughs charismatically at me, “Nice change of topic!”

“I learned from you,” I reply, sucking a crumb off of my thumb. When I look up, Colton is watching me draw my finger from my mouth. Intensity and desire mingle in the depths of his eyes as he studies me. The sexual tension between us mounts. Our draw to each other undeniable.

“Hot, huh?” he prompts, breaking our silent exchange.

I tilt my head and purse my lips as I study him back. “I wanted …” my voice is quiet, unsure, when I speak. The small smile playing at the corners of Colton’s lips gives me the surge of confidence I need to continue. Knowing he wants me. Knowing that he desires me and wants more of whatever this is, emboldens me. Empowers me to finish my thought. “I wanted you to take me right there on the hood of your car.” I can feel my cheeks flush as I look up at him through my eyelashes.

He takes in a sharp breath, his lips parting, eyes clouding with desire. “Why, Ms. Thomas,” he darts his tongue out to lick at his bottom lip, “we might just have to rectify that situation.”

“Rectify?” Desire blooms in my belly at the thought.

He leans in across the table, his face inches from mine. “It’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me. My chin trembles in anticipation, synapses misfiring as I try to tell my brain to be the voice of reason here. To pull me back from the brink of Colton insanity. And then the alarm chime on my cell phone on the table between us goes off. It startles us both and we jump back. “Oh crap! I have a meeting I have to get to,” I tell him as I start gathering our trash and stuffing it inside my empty muffin bag.

Colton reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping my flurry of movement. He waits until my eyes meet his to speak. “This conversation isn’t over, Rylee. You keep sending me so many damned mixed messages that—”

“What?” I screech dumbfounded, trying to pull my hand back from his, but his grip holds my hand still. “What are you talking about? You’re the one sending mixed messages. Whispering sweet nothings one minute and then pushing me away the next!” Are we experiencing the same thing here? How am I being confusing?

“I swear to God,” he murmurs softly to himself releasing my hand as he leans back in his chair shaking his head, amusement on his face. I can barely make out his next words when he speaks. “We haven’t really even started this yet, and you’re already topping me from the bottom.” I can sense his exasperation as he runs a hand through his hair.

I look at him, unsure what exactly he means by his comment, but not really having the time to care or to ask him to expand on it. I stand up and Colton grabs my hand again, pulling me up against him so that I am forced to tilt my head up to see his face. He closes his eyes momentarily, as if he is resigning himself to something, before opening them again to lock onto mine. “I want you, Rylee. Any way I can have you.” His words create a vacuum of air, and I feel like I can’t breathe. We’re standing in a packed Starbucks with orders being called and people talking on cell phones and espresso machines steaming milk, but I hear none of it. I comprehend none of the outside noise. It is just Colton and me and his deafening words.

I swallow loudly trying to process them. The intentions. Unable to speak myself, time passes until I find my voice. “Any–any way you can have me?” I stutter breathlessly, eyes wide with optimism. “Does that mean that you’re willing to … to try more than an arrangement? Try to compromise with me?”

I feel his body tense with my words and when I see the look in his eyes, I realize I misunderstand what he’s saying. The possibilities that are running rampant in my head like lemmings suddenly take the leap off of the cliff to their inevitable death. My chest deflates and my hopes sputter when he speaks, unable to look me in the eyes. “That’s not what I meant, Rylee. All I know is how I operate. By my rules. They allow me that deep-seated desire for control that I so desperately need to be able to function. I have to have it on my terms.” I feel his body shift before bringing his eyes to mine. I glimpse an unexpected vulnerability in them. “Rylee, this is all I can give you. For now…Will you at least try my way? For me?”

For now? Try for me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? That there is the possibility of a future? I try to stop my mind from reading into that comment through the filter of my hopelessly romantic heart, but I’m having trouble separating the two. Colton’s proximity and the words he just dropped like bombs on my rationality leave me stuttering as I try to respond coherently. “I thought you told me this wouldn’t work. That we have two differing sets of needs. That you … I think your words were, that you’re going to break me apart?” My words may sound strong and decided, but I’m anything but that.

He grimaces when I throw his words back at him and hangs his head, his voice soft. “Yeah, I know. I can’t prevent the inevitable. But I still want you to try?”

Blinded by my feelings for him, I ignore his admission of foreshadowed hurt because my head is still wrapping itself around that word try. He’s asked me to try. Am I willing to do that? For him? For a chance at us? To hope for the opportunity to show him that it’s okay to want more. That he deserves more. My train of thought derails when Tawny’s words flitter through my mind. You’ll think you can change him and his ways. And just when that happens, you’ll be over quicker than that last lap he just took. I shake my head, trying to rid her words from my head.

“Don’t answer yet, Rylee.” Colton’s voice is a plea, mistaking the shake of my head as a denial to his request. “Have dinner with me first before you tell me no.” I step back from him, needing the distance despite knowing I’m already going to tell him yes. “I have to have at least one more night with you. I need to.” His eyes search mine for an answer. “I’ll pick you up at three o’clock tomorrow.”

Now I’m the lemming running toward the cliff.

I stare at him. Since when do I let anyone make decisions for me? “I can drive, Colton,” I say exasperated that once again he’s made the decision for me. If I’m willing to try for him, shouldn’t he try for me as well?

“Nope,” he smiles holding the door open for me as we leave Starbucks. “I’m driving. That way you can’t run away.”