Crashed(book three)(202)

“Oh really? You’ve been playing me this whole time?”

“Uh-huh,” I say. “Hate the game and not the player, right?” I laugh. “Welcome to the big leagues, Ace.” The comment is off my tongue in a flash, and my sarcasm is rewarded by the grin I love spreading wide on his lips. He shakes his head, leans in to tease my lips with his, and surprises me by deepening the kiss. His tongue tempts and tantalizes me, desire coiling and need clenching every muscle south of my waist before he pulls back.

“See,” he whispers, “this is why I love you. It’s not the big things you do but the million f*cking little things that you don’t even know you’re doing. It’s making me laugh because you know I’m uncomfortable talking about this kind of shit and being okay with it. It’s for making me see the world in a different light, like ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner type of light.” He shakes his head and looks down momentarily.

“And this is why I love you,” I tell him. “Because no matter how uncomfortable you are expressing yourself, you know I need to hear it and you’re trying … hell you knocked it out of the park today. It was—you are—perfect.”

“I’m so far from perfect, Ry” he says with a self-deprecating laugh.

I reach out and touch him, run my hand over the line of his jaw. “You’re my kind of perfect, Colton.”

He smiles softly at me, his eyes suddenly becoming so intense and serious. “No, I don’t think you get it, Ry, and I don’t know how else to say it …” He reaches out and cups my face again, holding my head with unsteady hands so that my eyes lock with his. “I want to be your motherf*cking checkered flag, Rylee. Your pace car to lead you through tough times, your pit stop when you need a break, your start line, your finish line, your goddamn victory lane.”

His words have stolen mine and feed the need I’ve had since our first meeting. As much as I tried to fight the feeling that fateful night, I wanted to be his. Wanted so much more than a make-out session in a backstage hallway. I wanted the whole frickin’ race with him.

“Your trophy,” I muse with a soft smile, thinking back to our conversation the morning after our first time together, and I know he remembers, because he returns the same smiles back at me.

“No,” he whispers as he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. “You’re so much more than a trophy, Rylee. Trophies are inconsequential when all is said and done … but you? You could never be inconsequential.” I can feel his lips curve up to a smile.

“No, you and me together … that would make you mine,” I tell him with a smile of my own as I contribute a memorable moment from our past myself.

“Good one,” he concedes, leaning back with a devilish smirk on his handsome face. “My turn,” he says, licking his lips before his grin returns. “Is there anyone whose ass I have to kick before I can make it official?” he says with a laugh, his words challenging me to remember.

I shake my head, smiling as his fingers trail up my arms and his eyes dare me to recall my line. His touch is distracting, but I remember. I bat my eyelashes at him. “Make what official, Mr. Donavan?” I ask, and when I meet his eyes, I’m surprised by his intense gaze.

“This, Rylee.” He breathes. “Make this official,” he says.

I gasp, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as I look down at the sparkling engagement ring. I’m so thankful I’m sitting because the world is moving around me in a blur. All I can focus on is the brilliance of the man in front of me, asking to make my world complete. A world I never thought would exist for me.