Fueled(book two)(105)

I’m riding high from Colton’s revelation tonight. I feel brazen and am sick of Tawny’s crap. “Oh, believe me, I know.” I smirk. “But don’t worry, I’m not as naïve as you think I am when it comes to Colton’s needs. Little Red Riding Hood, I’m not.” I hear Tawny suck in an audible breath as she realizes that I overheard her conversation. Colton glances up from his discussion and his eyes meet mine, a quizzical look crossing his face as he sees who’s standing beside me. I smile sweetly back at him as if everything is under control.

It will be momentarily anyway.

“Your time’s up, Rylee,” she antagonizes.

I take a sip of the champagne in my hand and carefully choose my next words, my voice low and spiteful. “Well, I think it’s time you get a new watch then, Tawny, because it seems to me like you’re stuck in the past. You really need to get current with the here and now…because when you do, you’ll see that you no longer have a say or hold on Colton’s personal life.”

I watch her chest rise and fall as the anger fires within her. I feel like telling her that if what she feels is anger, then I’ve got a f*cking inferno of fury in comparison. And I’m just getting started. “It must suck for you, Tawny, when all you have to look forward to in life is being Colton’s sloppy seconds. Thinking you’re only good enough to go back to once he’s tried everybody else that he thinks might possibly be better. Talk about a hit to that overinflated ego of yours.”

“You bitch!” she sputters. “You can’t fulfill his needs. You’re—”

I turn quickly toward her, the look on my face stopping her words. “Oh, doll, I just did. Was it you he was f*cking on the hood of Sex in the parking garage before dinner? I didn’t think so,” I patronize with a smirk, but my eyes tell her he’s mine and to back the f*ck off.

The look on her face is priceless: eyes wide, lips parted as she digests what I’ve just said. “Colton would never...” she huffs getting herself worked up “...the Ferrari is his baby. He’d never risk scratching it.”

“Well I guess you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.” I give her the same catty smirk she’s graced me with several times. “Either that or you just didn’t mean more to him than his car.” I twist my lips and look at her while her ego tries to process what I’ve just said. “We’re done here then,” I say with a laugh as I walk away from her toward Colton.

God, that felt good! Serves her right.

When I reach Colton, he extends a hand to me and wraps it around my waist, pulling me into his side as he finishes his conversation with Vincent. They say their goodbyes and as he walks away, Colton leans down and kisses me gently. “What was all that about?” he asks warily.

I angle my head to the side as I look at him and run my fingers along the line of his jaw. “Nothing…it was inconsequential,” I tell him, scrunching up my nose at the word.





“Are you sure you’re not too cold?”

“Uh-uh,” I murmur as Colton rubs his hands up and down my arms, the ocean breeze a biting chill against my bare skin, but I don’t want to ruin the moment. This evening—post garden argument—has been one that I’ll never forget.

Something has changed in Colton with the evening’s progression. It’s not something I can put my finger on exactly but rather several things that are subtly different. The little looks he’s given me. The causal touches here and there for no specific reason other than to let me know he’s at my side. That shy smile of his that I noticed he’s reserved for only me tonight. Or maybe it’s always been there, and I’m looking at things through different lenses now that I know Colton is going to try for the possibility of an us. He’s willing to try to break a pattern that he swears is ingrained in him. For me.