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Fueled (Driven #2) Page 21
Author: K. Bromberg

“Well shit,” Tanner says, grasping Colton’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “Have a seat man.” He exhales. “I need a fucking beer after that.” I stare at both of them, mystified at how men operate. Ready to go to blows one minute, in complete understanding the next.

“I’d love to, but I’m late for my afternoon meeting.” He emits a sliver of a laugh. “Nice to meet you though. Maybe another time?” Colton turns his gaze on me. “Walk me out?”

I look at Tanner and he nods at me as if to tell me to go. I exhale, not realizing I’m holding my breath, suddenly nervous to be alone with Colton. Nervous to play the disinterested and aloof card. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Tanner, feeling like a little kid asking for his consent.

“Tanner.” Colton nods at my brother in goodbye before placing his hand on the small of my back and steering me through the kitchen and out the side door of the restaurant.

The brief time it takes to walk toward a staff exit, I think of how we ended things the last time we spoke. Of the two options he gave me, pit stop or arrangement. That I gave him his pit stop, but I still feel unsettled. That because I’ve been swimming in lack of reassurance, regardless of the term, I still feel like one in a long line of bedtime companions.

I shake the thought away, forcing myself to step outside of my overemotional, over-analytical head and acknowledge that with most, success comes in baby steps. And even though Colton hasn’t expressed wanting anything more than an arrangement with me, he took a baby step in calling ‘pit stop’. No more wishy-washy, I tell myself as I recall Haddie’s advice on how to interact with him. Aloof, unattainable, but desirable.

As Colton pushes open an exit door and ushers me outside, I’m preparing myself for the question of why I’ve not called him back. He’s called me twice and I’ve physically forced myself to not react and pick up phone.

Colton shuts the door and turns around to face me. Screw being unattainable. It takes all of my dignity to not push him up against the wall and kiss him senseless. The man makes me absolutely irrational and completely wanton.

He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me, his head angled to the side. “So your brother’s in town?”

I give an unladylike snort. “I think we already established that,” I answer dryly, fighting the urge to gap the distance between us. “Got a short fuse, do we?”

I can’t read the look that passes through his eyes because it flashes quickly. “When it comes to you, yes. I saw his arms around you.” He shrugs—the only explanation I receive. “Is he here for long?”

I stare at him for a moment, confused by his nonchalance in regards to a fight he almost had with my brother over nothing. Finally, I glance down at my watch and rest my hips back against the retaining wall behind me, figuring I’ll let it go for now. “Yeah, just for today. He’s due at the airport in an hour and a half.” I pick a piece of lint off of my tunic sweater as a means to keep my eyes and hands occupied before smoothing it down over my leggings.

Colton leans a shoulder against the wall in front of me, and when I look up I see his eyes run the length of my legs. They travel up the rest of my body, stalling when they come to my lips and then moving back up to my eyes. “Been busy?” he asks.

“Mmm-hmm,” I answer vaguely. “And you?”

“Yeah, but this is the calm before the storm with the season just around the corner.” He stares at me, his green eyes penetrating into mine. “Did you have a good night out?” he probes.

I give him a deer in the headlights look but recover quickly when I realize he’s referring to Haddie’s little performance on the phone the other night. “From what I remember of it, yes.” I flash a sassy smirk at him, hoping my acting is convincing enough to fool him. “You know how it is when you go out…too many guys thinking they’re way too cool, too much alcohol, and too little clothes—it all becomes a blur.”

I see anger flicker through his eyes at my too many guys comment, and I like the fact that he’s bugged by the idea. I like that he’s thought about it enough to ask. And after his little altercation with Tanner, it’s more than obvious that Colton has a little jealous streak running rampant through him.

It’s kind of hot that such a streak is flaring over me.

He angles his head and studies me for a beat. For once, I don’t avert my eyes under his severe scrutiny. I hold his gaze with boredom written in my expression. “Why do you seem so distant? Unapproachable?” He grunts, surprising me with his comment.

“Unapproachable? Me? I didn’t realize I was being that way.” I feign innocence when all I want to do is reach out and touch him.

“Well, you are.” He sighs, exasperation glancing across the features of his face.

“Oh, well I guess I’m just trying to abide by your parameters, Ace. Be exactly what you want me to be.” I smile sweetly at him.

“Which is what?” He huffs, confusion on his face.

“Emotionally detached, sexually available, and drama free.” I can see the muscle in his jaw pulse as he takes a step near me, irritation flashing in his eyes at the defiance in my tone. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at me long and hard with such intensity that I nearly cave and tell him how bad I want him. Screw the mind games. “Luckily I escaped without the paps following me. Kelly let me up on the roof away from the crowd for some peace and quiet to eat my lunch.” I arch a brow at him. “The owner,” he says, breathing out an exasperated sigh at either the unease between us or for feeling like he needs to explain. Maybe a bit of both. I look down and focus on the chip in my manicure, desperately wanting to approach him. Kiss him. Hug him. “It’s a good place to sit and mull things over.”

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K. Bromberg's Novels
» Sweet Ache (Driven #7)
» Aced (Driven #5)
» Raced (Driven #4)
» Crashed (Driven #3)
» Fueled (Driven #2)
» Driven (Driven #1)
» Hard Beat (Driven #8)