Fueled(book two)(92)

Her friend hums in agreement. “Who wouldn’t be when it comes to him? The man’s a tireless f*cking God in the sack.”

“I know that better than anyone.” Tawny chuckles, the sound crawling up my spine. “Besides, I can be patient. Time is most definitely on my side.”

“You ready?” I hear a second purse zip and the clicking of heels again until the door closes shut, bathing me in silence.

What the hell? I fumble in my purse for my phone. I click on Google and type in “Page 6, Colton Donavan.” I click on the first link that pops up and brace myself when the image fills the screen. It is a picture of Colton walking out of the Chateau Marmont. His hand is placed on Tawny’s lower back, who is decked out in a stunningly sexy, red dress. She is turned, looking up at him, her hand on his lapel, adoration filling her eyes, and a suggestive smile on her face. Colton is looking down at her, his face crinkled in laughter as if they’ve just shared a private joke. When I can finally tear my eyes away from the obvious chemistry between them, I glance at the date of the photo.

The date is this past Wednesday. The same day that Colton took the kids and me to the go-kart track. I groan out loud in the empty restroom at the realization that I got him all riled up in sexual frustration, and then I sent him off to a function with Tawny. Fucking great! I glance at the photo again, hoping maybe it is a stock photo the paper used to fill space, but then I take a closer look and notice that Colton is clean-shaven. He’s never clean-shaven. Wednesday was the first time since I’ve known him that he’s been like that. I feel a sharp pain in my gut as I stare at the picture again. Colton had told me that he had a work function to go to. At the Chateau Marmont with Tawny? What the hell type of function were they at, and why were they leaving together looking so damn cozy?

I take a deep breath, my thoughts rioting violently around in my head as Tawny’s verbal digs enter my conscience again and take hold.

I start to feel suffocated in the confines of the bathroom stall. I fumble with the lock on the stall and hurry past the vanities. I glance at myself in the mirror quickly and am shocked that my appearance is so calm and collected when my insides twist over this newfound information.

I force myself to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Tawny is a family friend and a business associate. Of course they have to go to functions together. The picture was probably snapped at just the right moment to capture a scene people could talk about. One they could make assumptions about. There are probably twenty other pictures in that scene that are boring and non-gossip worthy. Besides, the fact that Tawny still has a thing for Colton shouldn’t surprise me; she let me know as much at the track.

When I exit the bathroom, I’m still trying to talk myself down from the ledge of insecurity. I can’t find Colton, so I head toward the bar, needing another drink to soothe my frayed nerves. I tell myself that I know Colton’s had his share of women, but he told me in Vegas that I’m who he wants. It’d be so much easier to accept if he’d just admit to me that we were something more—that we were exclusive—anything to tell me verbally that emotions are a part of the picture. That I’m not just his physical plaything.

Get that out of your head, Rylee! I have to accept that he shows me with actions, not words. That’s all he’s willing to give me, and I have to accept this or walk away. I sigh in frustration. I thought I was mentally okay with this. Really I did, but then you add the mix of bimbos tonight and my insecurities have resurfaced. And having them thrown in my face repeatedly by Tawny and then tonight by Teagan—as well as bimbos three through five—makes it that much more difficult. Colton’s the total package. I should be flattered that other women want to be with him.