Fueled(book two)(182)

I finish my little rant, for some reason wanting to show Beckett what an ass his friend is, as if he didn’t know it already. Trying to explain to him why I have a case of the crazies right now. But when I stop, the look I expect to see is not there. In its place is utter confusion, and when he turns to look at Colton, it morphs into incredulity. “Are you f*cking kidding me here?”

Now I’m confused. “What?”

Colton growls. “Leave it, Becks.”

“What the f*ck, man?”

“I’m warning you, Beckett. Stay out of this!” Colton steps chest to chest with Beckett.

“When you start jeopardizing my team and the race tomorrow, then it becomes my business…” he shakes his head at him. “Tell her!” he bellows.

“Tell me what?” I shout at the both of them and their damn man code.

“Beckett, she’s like talking to a goddamn brick wall. What good will it do?”

Colton’s words hit my ears but don’t really seep in. I’m so focused on Beckett’s reaction that I don’t hear them.

“She’s right. You’re an ass!” Beckett snickers with disbelief. “You won’t tell her? Fine! Then I will!”

In a heartbeat Colton has Beckett pressed against the wall, his hands pressing against his chest, his clenched jaw inches from his. I suck in a breath at the sound of Beckett’s back hitting the wall, but I notice that he has no reaction otherwise to Colton’s temper. “I said leave it, Becks!”

They stare at each other for a few moments, testosterone oozing between them in two entirely different ways: Colton’s with force and Beckett’s with a simple look. Finally Beckett raises his hands and shoves back against Colton’s chest. “Then f*cking fix this, Colton! Fix! It!” he shouts, pointing at him before yanking the hotel room door open and slamming it behind him.

Colton expels a litany of curses as he paces back and forth the length of the room with his hands clenched and his temper flaring.

“What was that all about?” Colton ignores my comment and continues to wear a path in the carpet in front of me, refusing to meet my eyes. “Damn it, Colton!” I stand in his path. “What don’t you want me to know?”

The eerie calm in my voice stops him momentarily, his head down, jaw clenched. When he lifts his head to look into my eyes, I can’t get a read on what underlies the anger I see boiling over on the surface. “You really want to know?” he shouts at me. “You really want to know?”

I step up to him, confronting him, standing on my toes to try and stretch my height to be eye level with him. “Tell me.” Fear snakes up my spine at what I might hear. “Are you that goddamn chicken shit you can’t fess up and just admit it? I need to hear it come out of your mouth so that I can get the f*ck over you and get on with my life!”

He angles his head down and looks unflinchingly into my eyes, green to violet. My chest hurts so bad breathing feels impossible as time stretches.

His voice is quiet steel when he speaks. “I f*cked Tawny.” His words float out into the space between us but stab sharply into my heart.

“You coward!” I scream, pushing against him. “You goddamn f*cking coward!”

“Coward?” he bellows. “Coward? What about you? You’re so f*cking stubborn that you’ve had the truth staring you in the face for three f*cking weeks. You’re up there so high and mighty on your goddamn horse you think you know everything! Well you don’t, Rylee! You don’t know shit!”

His words that mean to hurt and push me away just fuel my temper even more, egging me on. “I don’t know shit? Really, Ace? Really?” I step closer to him. “Well how’s this? I know a bastard when I see one,” I seethe.