Fueled (Driven, #2)(119)

“This is how I’m used to dealing with pain, Rylee. I’m not proud of it, but I use women to cover up the hurt. I lose myself in them to block everything out.” He hangs his head for a second as my mind tries to grasp the shock waves his words create.

He’s just told me two things, and I’m not sure which one my scattered mind can focus on. His admission causes his comment from several weeks ago to float into my head. The comment he made in my house the morning after our first time sleeping together. How his 747 of baggage makes him crave the sensory overload of physicality—the stimulating indulgence of skin on skin. But why?

And at what point is a convenient explanation just a bullshit excuse for a playboy caught in his own lies? An opportune way for the man who always gets what he wants, to well, get what he wants. I can love the broken in him, but I can’t accept the lies any more.

“You told me the other day that we’re over. I’ll be the first to admit it’s f*cked up, but I’m coping the only way I know how,” he says.

I search his face, looking so far within him that it scares me. I can see the pain in his eyes. Can hear the hesitation and utter shame in his confession. Is this what I want? A man who every time we have an argument or every time he gets spooked about our relationship turns to someone else? Runs off to another woman to help lessen the pain? I told him I loved him. I didn’t tell him I want to marry him and be the mother of his unwanted children for God’s sake.

“So you’re telling me that I’m so important to you that if you bag some unmemorable chick, you’ll forget me?” I shake my head at him. “That if we’re together, every time the going gets tough you’ll run off with Tawny or another willing candidate? Gee, you're really building the foundation of a great relationship here.” He tries to interrupt me, but I just hold up my hand to stop him. “Colton…” I sigh. “Coming to talk to you tonight was obviously a mistake. The more you talk, the more I’m really starting to realize I don’t know you at all.”

“You know me better than anyone!” he shouts, taking a step closer as I take one back. “I’ve never had to explain anything to anyone…I’m not doing a good job at it.”

“You can say that again,” I snip back at him.

“Let’s get out of here and talk.”

“Colton?” a seductive female voice calls to him from over my shoulder. Everything in my body tenses at the sound. Colton’s face blanches.

“Out!” He grates between gritted teeth at her.

I unclench my jaw and take in a deep breath. “Talking’s overrated. Besides, it’s obvious you found someone to help you bury the hurt.” I nod my head toward the door behind me. “And you know what? I think it’s time I try it too.” I shrug. “See if finding a guy for the night fixes everything like you seem to think it does.”

“No!” The pained look of desperation on his face upsets me, but I’m so far past caring right now. So far past feeling. So numb.

“Why not? What’s good for the goose and all that,” I say, adding another animal to the imaginary menagerie I'm building as he just stares at me. One last look. “Enjoy your cocktail party, Ace.”





I wander aimlessly around the resort for what feels like an eternity. I watch the sun sink into the horizon, snuffing out the light of the day like the emotions darkened in my heart. Sadness overwhelms me but it’s nothing new since I’ve been there the past few weeks anyway. I think it’s worse because I allowed myself to believe that when I went to Colton, he’d accept why I was upset and that would be it. I never thought he’d play the idiotic game he did to purposely try and hurt me further.

I replay his admission to me over and over in my mind. His acknowledgement that he uses women to bury his hurt. On one hand I understand him a bit better now, but on the other it tells me that I really know nothing of his past—of the things that make him who he is.

But he’s so in denial—or maybe so used to getting away with things—that he doesn’t even realize the excuses he’s giving for his actions are inexcusable.

As I take a seat on a bench in one of the many gardens of the hotel, my phone rings. I look down, debating on answering it, but know that this might be the one person that might help me get my head on straight.

“Hey, Had,” I say, trying to muster up as much normalcy as possible.

“What happened?” Her insistent tone rings through the phone line loud and clear. I guess I failed at fooling her.

The tears come. They don’t stop. When they eventually subside, I relay the events of the evening. Haddie speaks. “That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

What? “Come again?”

“Well first of all, Tawny. She’s just a jealous bitch trying to get to you and she succeeded!”

“Whatever…” I blow my nose, completely dismissing Haddie’s remark.

“Seriously, Ry…that’s like Bitch 101. If you can’t have the guy, make the girl the guy wants doubt him so that you can have him.” She sighs loudly. “I’m not proud to say it, but I’ve done the exact same thing before.”

“Seriously?” My mind starts to comprehend what she’s saying.

“Rylee…for a smart girl sometimes you’re really dumb.”