Crashed

What? My head shakes back and forth, and I lean back so I can look at him. And when I meet his eyes, when the smile that spreads on his face lights up the green in the dark around us, my heart tumbles to new depths of love for this man. “The alphabet?”

I’m sure it’s the look on my face that has his grin widening, dimple winking, and his head shaking. “Yep, A to motherfucking Z.” A spark of his personality that he’d lost shines through fleetingly, and it warms my heart to hear that touch of amused arrogance in his voice. He chuckles again and says “Fucking Becks” before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine without answering my question.

He pulls back and looks at me, eyes intense. “Why now, Ry? Because of you. Because I’ve pushed and pulled and hurt you way too much … and despite all of that, you’ve fought for me—to keep me, to help me, to heal me, to race me—and for once in my life, I want someone to do that for me. And I want to be free to do that for someone else. I …” He sighs trying to find the words to match the emotion swimming in his eyes. Eyes still haunted on the fringes but so much less now than ever before, and that alone eases the ache in my soul. “I want the chance to prove I’m capable of it. That all of this …” he says with an irrelevant wave of his hand, “didn’t rob me of that. That I can be who you need and give you what you want,” his voice pleads.

I hear the sadness from his confessions still tingeing his voice, but I can also hear hope and possibility woven in there as well. And it’s such a welcome sound that I purse my lips and press them against his.

I can still feel the emotion shuddering through him as he slips his tongue between my parted and willing lips to deepen the kiss. I can still sense him trying to grasp this new ground he’s trying to find his footing on, but I know that he’ll find it.

Because he’s a fighter.

Always has been.

Always will be.

I glance over to him watching the light of the streetlights play over the angles of his face as I sing softly to Lifehouse’s Everything on the radio. It’s late, but time was of no importance as we sat together in the grandstands laying old wounds to rest and bringing new beginnings to the table. Sammy’s driving my car to the house but as Colton and I exit the freeway in the Range Rover, I realize we’re not going home just yet.

Home.

What a crazy notion. That I’m going home with Colton, because right now, after tonight, the word means so much more than just a brick and mortar building. It means comfort and healing and Colton. My ace. I sigh, my chest tightening with love.

I look over at him again and he must feel the weight of my stare because he glances over at me with eyes still slightly red from crying. They lock on mine momentarily as he smiles softly and then shakes his head subtly, as if he’s still trying to process the events of the past few hours before looking back at the road. But I keep my eyes on him because I know deep down that’s where they’ll always land no matter where else they look.

I’m so deep in thought I don’t even recognize our location when Colton pulls into a parking lot and puts the car in park. “There’s something I’ve gotta do. Come with me?”

I look at him confused about what we’re doing at eleven o’clock at night in some random parking lot in the outskirts of Hollywood. Obviously it’s important because after tonight all I can think of is that he’s probably exhausted and just wants to go home. “Of course.”

We exit the car and I look around, a little leery leaving such a nice car in this rundown, poorly lit lot, but Colton is completely unfazed. He pulls me in close to his side and leads me toward a very formidable wooden door that looks like it came straight out of the medieval times. Colton opens it and I’m immediately confronted with bright lights, music playing softly, and a strangely unique buzzing sound.

I whip my head over to Colton, who’s watching me with a bemused curiosity. He just chuckles and shakes his head at my slack jawed reaction and widening eyes.

I’ve never even stepped foot in one of these places before. Deep down a part of me knows why we’re here, but it doesn’t make sense.

Colton links his fingers with mine as we walk down a narrow hallway toward a room where there are bright lights. Colton crosses the threshold ahead of me and stops momentarily until the buzzing ceases.

“Well motherfucking cocksuck! The fucking wonder boy pays a visit,” a rumbling voice yells out, and Colton laughs before being pulled farther into the room. “Well goddamn, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Wood!”

I watch as arms, sleeved in a variety of colors and images, wrap around Colton and bring him in for a quick hug. I see a pair of hazel eyes catch sight of me over Colton’s shoulder.

“Oh fucking shit! I’m so sorry about all of the fucking cussing,” the voice belonging to the eyes says as he shoves Colton backwards and steps toward me. “Dude, if you bring a fucking lady in here you need to make sure to give me warning so I can be respectable and shit!”

Colton laughs as the man wipes his hand off on his jeans before reaching it out to shake mine. My eyes roam over the heavy set, tattoo riddled man with closely cropped hair and a long unruly beard, but what I find the most endearing is the blush staining his cheeks. It’s actually quite adorable, but I doubt he’d be amused if I said that right now.

“So fucking sorry! Christ, I just did it again,” he shakes his head with a wheeze of a laugh and I can’t help but smile.

“No worries,” I tell him, lifting a chin over toward Colton. “His mouth’s just as bad. I’m Rylee.”