Home > Driven (Driven #1)(100)

Driven (Driven #1)(100)
Author: K. Bromberg

The barista at the counter calls out the name “Ace,” and Colton smirks at me before rising from the table motioning that he’ll get the drinks. I watch him walk, his long, lean legs covered in denim with a forest green Henley shirt covering his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the long sleeves pushed halfway up his strong forearms. I watch the barista blush as she hands him our drinks and remain staring as he turns and heads to doctor his coffee.

I stare at him, confusion running through my head. We are so comfortable together. So drawn together. And yet we can’t give each other what the other needs. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I know I won’t be satisfied with just bits and pieces of him. Scraps he’ll throw my way when he deigns to. But that notion confuses me even more since I’ve yet to see him act that way with me thus far. He tells me one thing in regards to how he is with his arrangements, but then acts another way with me. And then to top it off, he warns me off of him constantly because he’s going to hurt me on purpose.

Is he worth it? Colton sinks down into the chair across from me, a soft smile on his lips as he meets my eyes. Yes. He definitely is. But what do I want to do about that?

“Now I can think clearly,” he sighs after swallowing his first sip. At least someone can, because it sure isn’t me.

“It seems to me like you were doing okay before your coffee,” I kid him as I swallow a bite of muffin. He just smirks at me. “I have to tell you again, Colton, thank you so much for showing up and doing that. It was … you were … what you did for Aiden was above and beyond, and I really appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t anything, Rylee,” and he can see that I’m about to argue with him, “but you’re welcome.”

I nod my head and smile shyly at him, glad he has accepted my gratitude. “The look on those brats’ faces was priceless when you walked up!”

He laughs out loud with me. “No, I think the principal’s face was even better,” he counters, shaking his head at the memory. “Maybe next time he’ll think twice before taking sides.”

“Hopefully,” I murmur, taking a tentative sip of my hot chocolate and trying not to burn my tongue. You burned me. Colton’s words pick this moment to flash through my head. I push them to the back of my mind as I take a sip of my drink. The damn man clutters my mind, my overwhelms my senses, and clouds my heart in one fell swoop.

We sit in an easy silence, watching store patrons and sipping our drinks. I put my hot chocolate down and absently fold the corners of my napkin, deciding if I should say the next comment that pops in my head or let it go. Typical me has to get it out. “Colton?” His eyebrows quirk up at the gravity of my tone. “You’re so good with the boys, I mean way better than most people, and yet you tell me you’ll never have any. It’s very perplexing to me.”

I see the shadow glance through his pale green irises at my words. “No, it’s not,” he states as a matter of fact, averting his eyes and looking out the window at my back before continuing. “Having a child and being good with one are two completely different things.” The muscle in his jaw tics as his eyes track something outside in the parking lot. “Mutually exclusive, I guess.”

“Colton, what you did today,” I tell him, reaching out to put my hand on top of his on the table. My touch draws his eyes back to mine. “You showed a little boy that he was worth something. That he was worthy enough to stand up for.” Emotion fills my voice. My eyes try and tell him that I understand. That he did what should have been done for him as a child. Even though I don’t know his circumstances, I know enough in my line of work to see that no one stood up for him or made him feel like he mattered, until he met his Andy Westin.

“Don’t you do that every day, Rylee? Stand up for them?”

I mull over his words as I finish chewing my bite. “I suppose so, but not with your dramatic flair,” I smile. “I guess I’m more behind the scenes. Nowhere near as public and self-confidence boosting as your demonstration was.”

“What can I say,” he picks at the cardboard guard on the coffee cup. “I know what it’s like to be in Aiden’s shoes. To be the odd kid out that doesn’t fit in due to circumstances beyond your control. To be bullied and made fun of just because.” He squeezes my hand. “You get the picture.”

Sympathy engulfs me as I think of a raven-haired little boy with haunted green eyes. Of the pain he experienced and the memories that will forever be etched in his mind. Of the things he missed out on like comforting lips expressing unconditional love, warm arms to cuddle him tight, and fingers to tickle him into fits of deep belly giggles.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rylee,” he warns pulling his hand away from mine and leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want your pity or sympathy.”

“I’m just trying to understand you better, Colton.” My words the only apology that I’ll give him.

“Delving into my dark and dirty past isn’t going to help you understand me any better. That shit,” he waves a hand through the air, “it’s not something I want to haunt you with.”

“Colton—”

“I told you before, Rylee,” his stern voice silencing me, “I’m not one of your kids. My shit can’t be fixed. I’ve been broken for way too long for that miracle to happen.” The look in his eyes—a mix of anger, shame, and exasperation—tell me that this topic of conversation is now over.

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