Fueled(book two)(42)

“She’ll look sexier in about twenty minutes, Donavan, if you get the hell out of here and let her do her thing,” Haddie says unabashedly as she breezes in my room holding a handful of barely-there dresses on hangers for me to try on.

“Well shit,” Colton says, pushing himself up off of the mattress, “I guess I’ve been told. Beckett?” he bellows down the hall, “Time for another beer.”





I twirl a lock of Colton’s hair absently with my fingers as I stare down at his head resting in my lap. He’s just fallen asleep and I shake my head watching the peaceful calm on his face. I’m still in shock at the direction the evening has taken. I smile, recalling the look on Colton’s face when Haddie and I walked into the living room in our sexy Vegas outfits. The bottle of beer that was angling towards his lips stopped in mid-air when he saw me. His eyes ran the length of my body in a lazy perusal, a diminutive smile ghosting his lips before they met mine. What his eyes told me in that one look was everything that I’d needed to hear from him but hadn’t heard over the past couple of days.

Desire. Need. Want.

And then unbeknownst to me, when Colton had mentioned flying, little did I know that there was a chartered jet waiting for us when we arrived via limo at the Santa Monica Municipal Airport. Haddie and I just looked at each other and shook our heads at the lavishness of it all. And when we boarded, in addition to Sammy sitting quietly at the rear of the plane, there was a flight attendant willing to fill any drink or meal order we desired. While Haddie, Becks, and I took advantage of the offer for a drink, Colton declined everything and crawled up on the couch beside me, laid his head in my lap, and declared he needed a quick nap to be ready for the night to come.

I shake my head thinking of it all, a wisp of a smile on my face when I look up to see Haddie and Beckett in a hushed conversation across from me. Haddie’s heels are off and her feet are curled underneath her. Beckett’s long legs are stretched out in front of him, and his fingers absently draw lines on the condensation of his bottle. He’s quite handsome in a non-typical way. I stare at him, realizing that he has definite sex appeal, more than looks. His sandy blonde hair is cropped close to his head and spiked up with gel. His crystal clear blue eyes are fringed by thick lashes. They are quiet eyes that take in and observe in a reserved fashion. He has broad shoulders and a lean build like Colton.

I stare at him, the best friend of my lover, and there is so much I want to ask him about Colton. So many things I think he can shed light on but know he would never betray his buddy by telling me.

Whether by chance or because he feels the weight of my stare, Beckett looks up and meets my eyes, his sentence to Haddie faltering on his lips. He angles his head to the side and twists his lips up as if he’s trying to decide if he should say something or not.

“You know why we’re here right now…why Wood got drunk tonight, don’t you?” His southern accent drawls out as he looks down and shakes his head at the sight of his friend before looking back up me.

“No,” I say.

Beckett leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and looks me straight in the eye. “Because you told him no, Rylee.” He shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. “And nobody, except me, ever tells him no.”

“That’s absurd,” I tell him, looking over at Haddie, who’s arched her eyebrow at the turn in conversation, a pleased smirk on her lips. I realize that Beckett is telling me I am the first female to tell Colton no. To not ask how high when he says jump. I glance down at Colton and back up to Beckett. “Surely one of his many others have told him no before.”