Driven (19 page)

“Well, hallelujah!” she yells, flailing her hands over her head, “you finally listened.” She grabs my hand and starts tugging me down the hallway. “Let’s get you freshened up, get you some more liquid courage, and see where the evening and Mr. Sexy Colton lead you.”

***

It’s been about an hour since Haddie’s pep talk, and my confidence, bolstered by my steady intake of alcohol, is back in full force. We have danced and socialized with some of her co-workers and are currently sitting at the purple booth, taking a breather before hitting the floor again. I have tried desperately to not search out Colton in the club during this time. Tried to ignore the fact that he is probably kissing
her
somewhere in the vicinity. But I do catch my eyes flitting here and there whenever I see a big mob of people. I also note Haddie watching me as I look for him; so I try to sneak glances, try to be subtle about it. She assures me that he is probably busy with Merit Rum executives. I appreciate the explanation, her trying to make me feel better, so I just push him of my head. Or try to anyway, with the aid of another Tom Collins.

Haddie’s drinks have disappeared at a much slower pace than mine since she is technically “at work” and wants to make sure she has all her faculties. I have a steady buzz, but I’m not drunk by any means, for I hate the lack of control that comes with too much alcohol. She is laughing at me as I ask her to explain for the third time about a situation with a pretentious A-lister she had to deal with earlier in the week.

“Rylee, my dear, you are—”

“Excuse us ladies, would you mind if we joined you?” I turn to see two attractive gentlemen behind me.

Haddie raises her eyebrows at me in question and looks back at the taller one who’d spoken, “By all means, gentlemen,” she answers, a slow, sexy smile growing on her lips. “I’m Haddie and my friend here is Rylee.” She nods at me as they slide into the booth with us. The tall, dark haired one sits next to Haddie and the other, a blond haired surfer type, sits next to me in the open-ended booth. He has a kind, nervous smile and takes a long sip of his drink.

“Hi, Rylee, my name’s Sam,” he holds out his hand to mine, and I shake it, giving him a shy smile. I glance over to see Haddie engaged in conversation with his pal, her giggly, flirty face on. “So uh, I would offer to buy you a drink, but I can see your glass is already full.”

“Thanks.” I lower my gaze from his and bring my glass to my mouth to take a timid sip through my straw.

“Crazy crowded here tonight.”

“Yeah, I know,” I shout over the noise.

He says something else to me, but I’m not sure what because a loud cheer erupts from the booth next to us. I hold my hand to my ear, indicating that I can’t hear him. He scoots closer, placing his arm behind me on the booth and leans in close to my ear. “I said that you seem to be having a good time and that I noticed you earlier and am glad I—”

“
The lady’s with me
.” I suck in my breath at the rasp of Colton’s steely voice, the threat dominant in his words. My eyes snap up to meet Haddie’s, and I see delight flash in them before she gives me a careful, reassuring look. My heart is beating at a frantic pace, my skin laced with goose bumps, and all because I am so damn attuned to him and to his body’s close proximity.

I slowly turn to face him, effectively turning my back to press into Sam’s chest, his arm across the back of the booth brushing over my shoulder, giving the implied appearance of intimacy. I raise my eyes to meet Colton’s and try to ignore the instant pang of lust that goes straight to the juncture of my thighs upon seeing him. His hair is a tad mussed, his shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbow, that muscle I find so damn sexy is pulsing in his jaw, and his eyes smolder with annoyance. I’ve had just enough alcohol to feel defiant, to want to test just how irritated Colton really is.

“I’m with you?”
I question, my voice laced with sarcasm. I can feel Sam’s body tense behind me and shift nervously, unaware of the chess game he is currently a pawn in, as Colton’s eyes narrow at me. “Really? Because I thought you were with her.” I shift to the side to look behind him, looking for her. I raise my eyebrows at him and continue, “You know, the blonde from your arm earlier?”

“Cute, Rylee,” he spits out as impatience radiates off of him. I see his eyes shift, lock with Sam’s behind me, and deliver the hands-off warning without uttering a word.

I’m irritated that he can be all over the club for the past hour and a half, doing God knows what with the blonde, and yet he thinks he can waltz up and lay claim to me? I don’t think so. I reach back and place my hand on Sam’s knee and squeeze it gently. “Don’t worry, Sam, I’m not with him.” I make my voice loud enough that Colton can hear me. I see Haddie’s eyes widen at my words as I hear a low growl from Colton in response. I can feel Sam flinch against me. I turn back to Colton, defiance in my smirk and challenge in my eyes.

“Don’t push me, Rylee. I don’t like sharing.” I can see him clench and unclench his fists in an instinctive response. “You. Belong. With. Me.” His claim of entitlement is a rasped growl.

I quirk my eyebrows up, my insolence mounting, “How so, Ace?” I watch his eyes focus on the hand I’ve kept on Sam’s knee. “Last night you were with me, and tonight you’re with her.” I shrug calmly at him although inside I’m anything but—my heart is racing and my breath has quickened. “Seems to me like—She. Belongs. With. You.” I mimic childishly.

Colton drags a hand through his hair and gives an exasperated sigh as his eyes flicker over everyone in the booth. I can see him try to rein in his frustration at me and at having to have this conversation in front our little audience. “Rylee,” he blows air out in a sigh, “You—You,” he looks around, out into the crowd and then his eyes finally come back to mine, impatience prevalent. “You test me on every level. Push me away,” he grunts, realizing he is saying this out loud. “What am I supposed to think?”

I look him up and down, my mouth twisting in thought. I’m kind of enjoying toying with him, making the man who is so sure of himself, who always gets what he wants, have to work at something
. “I’m not sure if I want you yet,”
I bait him. I hear Haddie suck in her breath at my flippant comment and the ice clink in Sam’s glass as he sucks down the remainder of it in anxiety. “A girl’s allowed to change her mind,” I taunt, tilting my head as I regard him. “We’re notorious for it.”

“Among other things,” he says dryly, taking a drink, watching me from over the rim of his glass. “Two can play this game, Ryles,” he cautions, “and I think I have a lot more experience at it than you do.”

My bravado falters slightly at the warning look in his eyes. I withdraw my hand from Sam’s knee and scoot toward the edge of my seat, my eyes never wavering from his. We stay like this for several moments, the music in the club background to our little drama. “You’re playing hard to get, Rylee,” he admonishes.

I glance over at Haddie who’s face is impassive but her eyes tell me she can’t believe what is unfolding. I stand up to face him, squaring my shoulders to him, defiantly raising my chin, “And your point is?”

He tsks at me, shaking his head, and takes a step closer. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself because it’s quite a show you’re putting on here.” He puts a finger under my chin, lifting so my eyes meet his. “I don’t play games, Rylee,” he warns, his voice just loud enough for me to hear, “and I won’t tolerate them played on me.” Sexual tension radiates between the two of us. The air is thick with it.

I breathe in a slow, calculated breath, trying to form an intelligent answer as his close proximity is clouding my thoughts and heightening my senses. “Well, thanks for the update.” I slap a hand on his chest, and lean in a little closer, my lips near his ear. “I’ll let you in on a little something as well, Ace,” I enlighten him, encouraged when I hear him suck in a breath in response, my voice a whisper on his cheek. “I don’t like being made to feel like I’m sloppy seconds to your
blonde
bevy of babes
.” I step back, forcing a confident smirk on my face, “You’re developing a pattern of wanting me right after I know you’ve been with another. That’s a habit you’re going to need to break or nothing else is going to happen here,” I finish gesturing between the two of us as I raise my eyebrows at him, “that is if I want it to at all.” His lips curl at the corners, amusement in his eyes at the challenge.

God, he is gorgeous! Even when he is smoldering with anger, he emits a raw sensuality that my body has a hard time ignoring. I turn to glance at Haddie for encouragement, as I hear his name being called by a voice, seductive like velvet. “Colt, baby?”

The words make me want to vomit.

I turn back to him to see a well-manicured hand slide in between his arm and his torso, splaying over his chest in ownership. I see him tense at the touch, his eyes guarded in reaction, and he throws back the rest of his drink, hissing at the sting of it between clenched teeth. I proceed to watch as the blonde from earlier slithers up next to him, eyeing me up and down pityingly, trying to stake her claim. I see the spark in her eye when she recognizes that I’m the one he left her for on the stairs to dance with. If looks could kill, I’d be dead from her glare alone. But despite it all, Colton’s eyes remain steadfast on mine.

I am nauseated at the sight of her hands on him, and the thought of him giving any attention to her. I shake my head at him in condemnation as I cluck my tongue. “Case in point,” I attest, trying to contain my disbelief at her perfect timing in our conversation. I glance back at Haddie and the two men sitting there, sincerity etched in my face, “I apologize, but please excuse me.” Haddie starts to gather her purse, concern on her face, and I subtly shake my head for her to stay.

I turn back and look at Colton one last time, hoping my eyes portray the message I’m sending. Here’s your choice.
Me or her
. You pick. Right now. Last chance.

I avert my eyes, breaking our connection. He stands static with the blonde draped over him like a bad jacket. I guess he’s made his decision. I try to calmly exit the booth area. Try to flee from the dangerous path that I undoubtedly know he will lead me down.

Once I feel like I’m clear from view, I blindly push my way through the mass of people, hurt bubbling up to the surface. My heart aches with the knowledge that I’ll never be able to compete with someone like her. Never. I try to contain it as I push my way to the bar, wanting to numb the feelings I let myself believe were valid. Were reciprocated. Were possible again.

Shit!
I swallow back the threatening tears as I squeeze into an open space at the crowded bar and by some miracle the opening is right in front of the bartender. He looks up at me and if he sees any despair in my face, ignores it. “What’ll you have?” he asks me above the noise.

I stare at him a moment, contemplating my options. I opt for quick and numbing. “Shot of tequila please,” I request, garnering the attention of the man standing next to me. I can feel him looking me up and down, and I roll my shoulders, bristling at the unwanted attention.

The bartender slides a shot of tequila across to bar top to me and I grab it, looking at it for a moment, silently saying our toast, for right now I definitely need the courage portion
. Even if it’s false courage
. I toss it back without hesitation and scrunch my face up at the burn. I close my eyes as its warmth slides down my throat and settles in my belly. I sigh deeply before opening my eyes, ignoring the offer of another drink from the man next to me.

I grab my phone out of my purse and text Haddie that I’m fine, to enjoy herself, and I’ll see her at home. I know that if she weren’t here for work, she’d be at my side, taking me home.

I glance up from my phone to look for the bartender. I need another shot. Something to numb the rejection. My eyes flicker down the length of the bar when in the mirror’s reflection, I see Colton striding purposefully toward me.

Despite the hope surging inside of me, I mutter, “Fuck!” and throw some cash on the bar before turning on my heel and veering toward the closest exit. I find one quickly, in the corner at the end of the bar and shove open the doors with a measure of force. I find myself in an empty, darkened corridor, relieved when the door shuts behind me, muffling the pulsating music. My moment of solitude is fleeting as the door is thrown open moments later, Colton pushing through. We lock eyes momentarily, I can see the anger in his and I hope he can see the hurt in mine, before I turn my back to him and rush further down the hallway.

I let out a strangled cry in frustration as Colton catches up to me and grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him. Our ragged breathing is the only sound in the hallway as we glare at each other, tempers flaring.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls at me, his grip on my arm remaining.

“Excuse me?” I sputter, a look of incredulity on my face in response to his audacity.

“You have an annoying little habit of running away from me, Rylee.”

“What’s it to you, Mr. I-Send-Mixed-Signals?” I throw back at him, wrenching my arm from his grip.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart. Is that guy—is he what you really want,
Rylee
?” He says my name like a curse. “A quick romp with Surfer Joe? You want to fuck him instead of
me
?” I can hear the edge in his voice. The implied threat. In this dark corridor, his features hidden by shadows, his eyes glistening, he is every bit the intimidating bad boy that the tabloids hint at.

“Isn’t that what you want from me, Colton? A quick fuck to boost that fragile ego of yours? It seems you spend an awful lot of time trying to placate that weakness of yours.” I hold his glare, contempt in my voice. “Besides, what do you care what I do? If I recall correctly, it seems to me you were pretty occupied yourself with the blonde taking up space on your arm.”

The muscle tics as he clenches and unclenches his jaw regarding me, rolling his head back and forth on his shoulder before answering me. “
Raquel? She’s
inconsequential
,” he states as a simple matter of fact.