I sigh heavily. So much has been left unanswered, and yet I feel like so much has been expressed without being said. I sit down on the couch, my head reeling from my whirlwind of a week.

“Is he gone?” I hear Haddie’s hushed voice from the other side of the wall.

“Yes, nosy girl,” I laugh, “Come out here and give me your two cents.”

“Holy crap!” she shouts as she hurries around the wall and flops down on the couch next to me. “Hot date tonight!” she sings loudly, raising her arms up in the air. “Whew, I need to take a cold shower after that.”

“You watched?” I blush quickly, embarrassed at the thought of having an audience.

“No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” she corrects. “I was in the kitchen when you guys came in the house. If I would’ve left, you’d have seen me, and I didn’t want to distract from your floor show,” she teases, referring to my stretching routine. “I heard only.”

I blush at the thought of her listening to our conversation, but find comfort in the notion that she’d listened. Now I can get an unbiased opinion about our exchange.

“Ace? Does he know what that stands for?”

“Nope!” I smirk, recalling Haddie and my private acronym and the words it represents.

“Damn, Ry,” Haddie shakes her head, “the man’s got it bad for you.”

I falter in my immediate response. Her statement blindsides me. I pick at the cuticle on the side of my nail for a moment, trying not to jump to conclusions. “Nah, it’s more like pure, unadulterated lust.”

“Not how I see it,” Haddie responds, my eyebrows quirking up in question to her comment. “Smitten is the word that comes to mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, c’mon, Rylee! Hard and fast?” she sputters.

“That’s just sex,” I shrug, “Not commitment.”

“It’s unfathomable how much he wants you?” she tries.

“Sex again,” I correct.

“Unimaginable how much he wanted you to say yes to tonight?”

“Because he thinks it will lead to sex,” I reply, a smile on my face from having fun with this game.

“How about when he said it wasn’t a one-night stand?” she tries again, eyes full of humor. Her heart shaped lips form a smile, thinking she’s proven me wrong this time.

“Semantics,” I answer. “Maybe he wants a thirty-night stand? I mean he only said it wasn’t a one-nighter.”

“Your incorrigible,” she laughs at me, grabbing my knee and squeezing it lightly. “But hell, at least it’d be thirty days worth of great sex, Rylee!” she gushes, her excitement for me palpable. “You’re going out with him again tonight! On a real date!”

“I know,” I sigh, shaking my head at the thought of getting to spend more time with Colton. “At least there might be conversation tonight before we have sex,” I joke, although a rational part of me admits its truth.

Haddie bursts out laughing. “Oh, Rylee, my sensible friend,” she pats my leg, “this is going to be so much fun to watch you experience.”

I quirk my eyebrow at her and shake my head, filled with so much love for her and so much confusion over the situation with Colton. I sigh deeply, leaning my head back on the comfortable couch, and angle it to the side so that I can look at her. “Did I handle that right, Haddie? I tried so hard to be what he wants and—”

“You are what he wants, Rylee, or he wouldn’t have tracked you down to your house.” She is exasperated at having to explain this to me. Again.

“What did you just say?” The magnitude of her comment hits home. How does Colton know where I live? I’ve never told him. Something to ask him.

“C’mon, Ry,” she says oblivious to my train of thought, “What you did was brilliant! You walk out on him after sex last night and the next morning he shows up at our doorstep. I mean—” she shakes her head, a knowing smile on her lips, “that’s more than just sex, Ry. The man’s got it bad for you.”

I feel her words take hold and enter into my conscious, but I’m afraid to believe them. Afraid to hope that there’s a chance at anything with Colton. My head tries to shut out the surge from my heart, but it fails miserably. The hopeless romantic in me allows me a moment to daydream. To hope. I close my eyes sinking in to the glimmer of possibility and the warmth of the idea.

“Shit!” I scrub my hands over my face as panic hedges its way through my thoughts.

“What?” Haddie opens her eyes, narrowing them as she looks over at me.

“What if I can’t do it?”

“Which part of it are you referring to?” she questions warily. “Because it’s a little late, sister, if the it you’re referring to is sex.”

“Very funny.” I huff. “I meant what if I can’t turn off the emotions. What if I fall for him, Had?” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair, and the action makes me think of Colton’s fingers there earlier. “I mean he’s arrogant and overconfident and he warns me away but tells me he’s drawn to me and he’s reckless and he’s passionate and sexy as hell and…so, so much more.” I press my fingers to my eyes and sit there for a minute, Haddie allowing me the moment to absorb everything. “I know without a doubt that it’s a good possibility.” I look up at her. “Then what? “

“It seems he’s not the only one who’s smitten,” she says softly before I glare at her. She scoots over next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. “No one can fault you for being afraid, Rylee, but life’s about taking chances. About having fun and not always playing it safe. So what if he’s a little reckless? The fact that he scares you might be a good thing. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone,” she leans back and wriggles her eyebrows. “Have some wild, reckless sex with him. He obviously likes you. Who knows, maybe it will turn into something more. Maybe it won’t. But at least you took the chance.”


CHAPTER 15


Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I reiterate Haddie’s advice as I get ready for my date with Colton. The song in the background makes me smile. It is the song that Colton’s earlier text referred to:

Dress casual. Since you still seem to run away rather than talk to me, I’ll use your method of communication to relay my message. Taio Cruz, “Fast Car.” See you at six.

Haddie had smiled knowingly when I showed her the text and scrambled for her iPad to play the song for me. We laughed out loud at the song’s words. “I want to drive you like a fast car.” Perfectly fitting for Colton to send.

We then scrambled to find a song I could send back to him. “Something to make him think about you the rest of the day and knock his socks off,” Haddie had said while scrolling through her vast library of music. After several minutes of silence, she yelled, “I’ve got the perfect song, Rylee!”

“What is it?”

“Just listen,” she said as the opening line of the song started. I started laughing out loud, knowing the song and liking the sexiness of it. Before we knew it, Haddie and I were dancing around the living room singing at the top of our lungs. The song was perfect! Sexy, suggestive, and confident—everything I felt but was too shy to be in front of him. So before I lost my nerve, I grabbed my phone and texted Colton back:

Nice song, Ace. It fits you perfectly. Now, I’ve got one for you that fits me. Mya, “My love is like whoa!” I’ll be waiting for you at six.

A few minutes later, I received a response back:

Shit. Now I’m hard. Six o’clock.

I smile at the thought of our earlier exchange, a small thrill running through me that I have such an effect on him. I look in the mirror and scrutinize my outfit, heeding Colton’s advice from the text to dress casual. I have my favorite True Religion jeans on with a violet-colored cashmere sweater that has capped sleeves and a sexy but tasteful low V-neckline. I’ve forgone the Haddie makeover tonight, opting to do my own make-up and hair. My make-up is natural and light; a little blush, some lip-gloss, smudged eyeliner, and thick mascara to highlight my eyes. Despite playing around with my hair for a while, I opt to keep it down, my curls loose on my back. I add simple diamond studs to my ears and some gold bangles to my wrist.

I twist my ring around and around on my finger, contemplating whether I should wear it or not. I take it off and look at it; three thin, wavy, intertwined diamond bands. Past, present, and future. I can still hear him whisper those words in my ear as we stared at it on my finger the night he proposed. I close my eyes and smile at the memory, surprised when the tears that usually threaten don’t come. I play with it on my finger a moment more before hesitantly twisting it off. I stare at it for a beat before I place it in my jewelry box. I pick it back up in indecision, the war of emotions raging inside of me.

Fresh start, I remind myself with a deep, steadying breath, and place it back in the box. I’ve worn the ring, in one way or another, everyday for three years. I feel naked without it, both inside and out. I wiggle my fingers and look at the lighter band of skin marked by time. I feel a weight lifting off of me and at the same time a sadness in the acceptance that it’s time to move on. I kiss the spot on my finger and say a silent I love you to Max, taking a moment to absorb the importance of this moment before turning to do my last minute touch ups in the mirror.

I’m slipping on my black, heeled boots when the doorbell rings. I press a hand to my belly, finding it oddly strange that I’m nervous. The man has seen me naked and yet I still have butterflies. Haddie calls out to me that she’ll answer the door. I grab my cropped leather jacket and purse, check myself in the mirror one last time, and make my way down the hallway. I nervously run my hands over my sides and hips, smoothing down my shirt, the clicking from the heels of my boots muted by the runner on the hardwood floor. I hear Colton laugh out loud as I turn the corner near the family room.