Fueled(book two)(178)

Parker has since taken note of the scuffle in the hallway, and when he sees who is bearing down on us, I hear him suck in a breath. “That’s the guy?” he says incredulously, with a mixture of fear and astonishment filtering through his voice simultaneously. “Colton f*ckin’ Donavan? Christ, I’m dead!” He groans.

I stand up from the stool and step in front of him. “Don’t worry. I can handle him,” I tell him confidently, but when I catch a glimpse of the unadulterated rage reflected in Colton’s eyes, I question if I can.

And I’m sure it’s the numerous cocktails under my belt and buzzing through my system, but the thought sends an unexpected thrill through me regardless of the events of the past couple of days. Something on his face besides his anger pulls at parts deep within me. It’s that look in his eye. The one that says he’s had enough. That says he’s going to waltz into this room, pick me up, throw me over his shoulder, and take me somewhere to have his way with me. In those few seconds before he reaches me—as I watch the muscles bunch beneath the fitted fabric of his shirt—every part of me below the waist coils with desire. I am so not into the cave man thing, but damn if the man doesn’t make a woman want like no other.

And then when he stops in front of me, those cold, calculating, emerald green eyes visually pin me motionless, and my mind regains control of my traitorous body, pushing my libido to the wayside. “What the f*ck are you trying to pull, Rylee?” he growls, low but it resonates above the chatter of the bar.

I hear Parker shift restlessly behind me. Without looking, I reach my hand back and pat his knee to tell him I’ve got this. “What business is it of yours?” I respond flippantly, the alcohol allowing me to reflect the courage that I really don’t feel.

I’m ready for his hand as it reaches to grab my arm, so I yank it out of his reach before he can grasp it. We stare at each other, both seething for the same reasons. I see Beckett approach us with trepidation in his eyes and Sammy not far behind him.

“I don’t like games, Rylee. I won’t tell you that again.”

“You don’t like games?” I laugh with disgust. “But it’s okay for you to play them?”

He leans in, his face inches from me, his alcohol laced breath feathering over my face and mingling with mine. “Why don’t you tell your little boy toy he can run along now before things get even more interesting?”

Knowing that we have both been drinking and should stop this little charade before we can’t turn back should make me walk away—but rational exited the building a long time ago, leaving crazy and scorned to reign. I shove against his chest as hard as I can to get him out of my face, but he just grips my hands and pulls me with the momentum that I’ve caused. “You. Arrogant. Conceited. Egomaniac!” I shout brokenly at him, unconsciously giving him the meaning behind his nickname, but I know he doesn’t catch it. I fall against him and the action draws even more stares from the crowd around us. Our chests rise and fall with our angry, harsh breaths as we both clench our jaws in frustration.

“What the f*ck are you trying to prove?” he grits out.

“I’m just testing your theory,” I lie.

“My theory?”

“Yeah.” I scoff. “If losing yourself in someone helps get rid of the pain.”

“How’s that working for you?” He smirks.

“Not sure.” I shrug nonchalantly at him before I reach back and tug on Parker’s hand. I know I shouldn’t involve him any further. It’s extremely selfish of me to use him in this, but Colton makes me bat-shit crazy sometimes. “I’ll let you know in the morning.” I raise my eyebrows at him as I take a step past him.