Crashed (Driven, #3)(88)

I try to figure out what he’s referring to, but I just nod my head. What is he doing?

He lowers me to the ground. “You okay?” he asks as he looks in my eyes like we are the only two people standing here. When I nod he gets that little smirk on his face, and before I can read it his lips are on mine in a soul-devouring, heart thumping, thigh-clenching-together kiss that leaves no questions about who Colton’s heart and emotions belong to. His lips claim me, tasting like a needy man starving. And I am so lost in him, to him—just as needy for him—that I don’t hear the people around us, the clicks of the cameras, because regardless of the outside world, it always comes back to us.

He breaks the kiss with a gasp from me and gives me that smirk again. “If they’re gonna stare, Ryles.” And shrugs his shoulders unapologetically as I mentally finish the phrase he said to me in Vegas … we might as well put on a good show.

“Did you all get a good picture?” he shouts to the crowd around us, and I look over at him confused. “Now this is what you can print with your goddamn picture. Rylee isn’t the home wrecker folks. Tawny is. Just like Tawny is a f*cking liar.” He glances over at me as I stand there with my mouth agape over his comment. “Yep,” he shouts. “Paternity test is negative. So your story? Isn’t really a story anymore!”

It takes a minute for the meaning of his words to sink in and I just stare at him as he looks at me with the hugest grin on his face, and shakes his head as he pulls me under his arm and tucks me against him. “Wha—why—how?” I stutter as so many emotions flicker through me at a rapid pace, the most prominent one: relief.

“Chase is going to kill me for that one,” he mutters to himself with a smirk on his face that I don’t quite understand. Before I can ask, Colton turns us around and starts walking back through the gates as questions are yelled out about what happened today at The House. He ignores them and waits for the gates to shut before turning and looking at me. “That’s what I was calling to tell you … and then everything happened.”

I just stare at him. I can see the burden that’s been heavy in his eyes is gone—has probably been gone all day—but then again I’ve been a little preoccupied. I nod my head, unable to speak as he takes my hand and raises it to his lips.

And it hits me harder than ever before.

We can do this. All of the obstacles between us have been removed in one way or another. It’s just this selfless girl and this healing boy and we can really make this work.

He looks at me as tears well in my eyes, and I step into his arms and don’t let go, because I’m exactly where I want to be.

Exactly where I belong.

Home.





“Are you sure you’re okay?”


It’s only the hundredth time he’s asked me, but a part of me smiles silently at how well he’s taking care of me. The day had just gotten longer and longer as I assured an adamant Haddie I was okay and that she didn’t need to fly home from her job in San Francisco to physically see I was all right, and that I’d call her again in the morning. Next it was my parents and the same reassurances, and then the boys … checking in on Zander and wishing I was there to speak to him face to face as well as talk to the rest of the boys. Colton cut me off after that, telling the rest of the people who called—his parents, Quinlan, Beckett, Teddy—that I needed rest and I’d call them in the morning.

“I’m fine. I’m not feeling too well but I think it’s because I’m exhausted. My stomach is upset. I should’ve eaten more food before I took the pain meds. And now they’re making me super sleepy …”

He sits up in bed. “Do you want me to go get you something to eat?”

“No,” I tell him, pulling his arm so he lies back down. I look over at him. “Hold me?”

He instantly shifts and gingerly places his arms around me, pulling me into him so our bodies fit against each other. “Okay?” he murmurs into the crown of my head.

“Mmm-hmm,” I say, snuggling in as close as my sore body will allow because the pain is a little more bearable with his arms holding me tight.

We sit there for a bit, our breathing slowly evening out. I’m just on the cusp of sleep when he murmurs, “I race you, Ry. I really, really race you.”

Every part of me sighs at those words, at the admission I know is hard for him. I press a kiss to my favorite place beneath his jawline. “I race you too, Colton.”

More than you’ll ever realize.



The cramps in my stomach wake me up.

I lie in the pitch black, moonless night as the little, continuous stabs of pain combined with the sweat coating my skin, and the dizziness in my head, tell me I need to get to the bathroom quickly before I throw up. I slide out of Colton’s loosened grip on me, trying to be quick but also trying not to disturb him. He mumbles something softly, and I still momentarily before he rolls onto his back and quiets down.

My head’s fuzzy as I stand, and I’m super groggy from the pain medication. Talk about feeling like I’m walking through water. I laugh because the floor even feels kind of wet and I know it’s just my drug laden brain. I run my hand along the wall to help steady myself and guide me through the dark room so I don’t accidentally bump something and wake up Colton.