Raced Page 15

  But fuck if I’ve been able to make sense of the truths she’s allowed me to face, the man she’s given me the room to become.

  “It is indeed Rylee, and shit, man, I don’t know what she sees in you,” he teases, “but, she looks incredible.”

  What? “You’ve seen her?” So not fucking fair. So many things I want to ask him about her, but I keep my balls and retain my dignity. I’ll see for myself soon enough if she’s nervous or smiling or crying.

  Being beautiful is a given.

  “Had to talk to her, let her understand the big ass mistake she’s about to make … give her a chance to ride off in the sunset with the more handsome of the two of us.”

  I snort out a laugh as I walk toward him. “Yep. We will be doing that in about six hours. Thanks for showing her the lesser so she knows she’s getting the more.”

  “Cocky as fuck and you still end up with the girl.”

  “Always.” I sit down on the edge of the chair across from him and flash him an arrogant-ass a grin. And fuck if I know where it comes from but all of a sudden there are so many things I need to say to him and not enough words to say them with. We may fuck with each other, ride each other’s asses when we can’t see what’s right in front of us, but I know the shove he gave me knocking my dick in the dirt is part of the reason I got my shit together. Is why I’m sitting here right now, about to marry the girl I sure as shit don’t deserve.

  Well him and the defiant as fuck woman who grabbed me by the balls and said non-negotiable.

  “Hey, Becks?”

  “What do you need?”

  And that right there gets me. His unwavering friendship.

  I look down for a moment and take a sip of the Macallan. “That’s good shit. Thanks,” I say, stalling.

  “A rarity for a one-of-a-kind type of day.”

  Years of friendship come down to right now. Two young kids, now men, and the one that was fucked-up just might finally have it together. How the hell do I tell him that? Thanks for putting up with my bullshit and being my punching bag and wingman all at once?

  “Thanks, man. For everything.” It’s all I’ve got, but I think he knows what I’m saying because he meets my eyes for a moment, a slight smirk on his face, and nods his head in acknowledgement.

  “Always.” He sips his drink and then leans forward and taps it against mine. “And just remember to always end a fight with these two words: yes dear. Biting your tongue at the end of a fight will up the ante of her using hers later to make-up.”

  I laugh with him and his fucked-up logic that makes perfect sense before tossing back the rest of my drink.

  “You ready, Son?” My dad’s voice from the door interrupts us.

  I sigh and fuck if I can’t stop the smile that’s on my face. “Yep, just putting my tie on,” I say, rising to get it. I meet my dad’s eyes and we had our father-son moment earlier but I still can’t get over that look he gives me.

  The pride mixed with attaboy. The look the fucked-up little boy I was would have killed to have as much as something to eat and yet here I am, twenty something years later, and it means more now than I ever thought it could.

  Sweet Jesus. When people say weddings make you sappy, they weren’t fucking kidding. But fuck anyone who tells me I don’t deserve this. I’ve been to Hell and back, survived the darkest shit imaginable and I’m standing here with my old man and my best friend about to marry the woman who took the pieces the poison hadn’t eaten through and made me whole again.

  I think I need another drink.

  Let’s get this waiting shit over.

  I’m restless. Antsy as fuck. I mean, I’m close to all of the people here but they seriously need to stop chatting and sit the hell down so I can see her.

  “Cool your jets. You’ve waited this long, I don’t think another couple of minutes will kill you.”

  Her voice startles me but I keep my eyes focused on all of the guests. “Easy for you to say,” I tell my sister, knowing it’s no use to bullshit her that the nerves are starting to kick in.

  “Well it’s about time,” she says sarcastically, her hand dusting something off the shoulder of my jacket.

  I glance over at her. “Exactly my point. It’s about time for it to start.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She snorts in amusement. “I meant it’s about time you’re finally acting normal about this. That your nerves are showing. You were freaking me out with the Mr. Cool-Calm-and-Collected routine. I wanted to ask who stole my brother.”

  I roll my eyes at her, my patience wearing out but for all the right reasons. When I meet her gaze I see the tears there, accept the love in them. I just sigh and shake my head, an unsteady grin on my face. “I’m getting married, Q.”

  A tear leaks over and she runs her hands up and down my lapels. “I know. It’s surprising as hell but you deserve it. All of the happiness and love she brings you.” She steps up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Just treat her like you treated me, minus the nuggies and wedgies,” she says with a wink, emotion breaking her voice, “and you’ll be just fine.”

  I pull her into me and kiss the side of her cheek. She bats me away so I don’t mess up her makeup or hair. “Thanks.”

  She just nods her head at me before shaking it. “I won’t believe it until I see a ring on your finger.” She laughs. “I guess now would be a good time to tell her parents that our family has a no return policy on you.”

  “Quinlan,” I warn her, but the smile on my face gives away that I don’t care if she tells them that or not because they won’t need to return me. I’m in this for the long haul.

  She’s called from my mother upstairs and she kisses my cheek one last time before running up the steps.

  Time passes slower than the pace car around the track. I’m amped up, ready to get the show on the road, and a new Mrs. Donavan into bed when all is said and done. The officiate leads me outside. I stand there and make eye contact with my mom who has been a wreck all day since we had breakfast until now.

  The music starts. Some classical shit that I’m sure I’ll never remember but at the same time will know every time I hear it what it means. Where I was. What she looked like.

  Tanner and Quinlan walk down. Then Becks and Haddie. I don’t even see them. I’m rocking on my heels. Clasping my hands in front of me. Telling myself to breathe.

  Fuck. I’m really doing this. Really want to do this.

  The wedding march starts. At least I know this song. Kind of hard to miss.

  But when the music starts, I feel like the bottom drops out.

  All of my insecurities, fears, worries begin to overtake me. I strain to find Rylee around the curve of the guests. I want to yell at them to sit the hell down so I can see her because I’m fucking suffocating and she’s my air. My next breath.

  My fucking everything.

  And then life zooms in 3D fashion when I catch the first glimpse of her.

  The blur around me stops.

  All I see is white. Can’t tell you a goddamn thing about the dress except for the color because all I’m focused on is her face.

  Look up.

  Look at me, Ryles.

  I want to shout the words to her. Let her know I’m here, waiting. But then realize she can take all the time in the fucking world because I’m not going anywhere.

  Yep. This man who loved to run is firmly rooted in place. Fuckin’A.

  I can’t hear my mom sobbing, can’t feel the breeze of the ocean, can’t hear the music anymore because Rylee looks up.

  And I’m lost. Staggered. Found. Saved.

  To her. To the moment. For the rest of my life.

  My saint. The words run through my head as I lock eyes with her. Every demon left within leaves with the exhale of my breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  Her smile is unwavering and eyes fill with tears as she walks so calmly toward me. And thank fuck for that. Thank God she never listened when I warned her off of me. Because it may have been
a great view of her ass walking away, but that means I’d never have the chance to see this—accept this—know this feeling. The one that she’s walking toward me, no secrets hidden, all slates wiped clean, and a future to build together.

  I’m a lucky fucking bastard.

  I breathe in, my chest aching, and when the oxygen hits my lungs I’m able to think a little clearer. My eyes obey the command to take in the whole package, take a chance to remember this one moment for the rest of my life.

  And then I see it.

  I laugh out loud—can’t help myself—when I see the checkered flag wrapped around her waist. Only Rylee would do this for me. Add something as an ode to the significance of our checkered past and of her being my checkered flag.

  I can’t keep my eyes off of her. She’s everything right now. Fucking everything.

  I shake her dad’s hand and vaguely hear his kind words because all I see is her.

  “Nice checkered flag,” I tell her with a laugh when all I want to do is kiss her. I feel like it’s been weeks since we have, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours. Pathetic but true as fuck.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t know which one I was,” she says, referring to her text as I take her hands in mine.

  And now I feel like I can breathe again, feel like myself again because Rylee’s right where she belongs. “Baby, I’d know where you are even if I were blind.”

  I smile at her, see so many things in those eyes of hers that I don’t even realize the officiate has begun. And fuck if the nerves aren’t beginning to hum now.

  The vows I had planned to say all jumble in my head, crossing lines and not making any sense. I hear my cue and in the split second decide that this self-proclaimed player is going to do something a year ago I would have hidden from.

  I decide to let it all out. Speak from the heart. Lay it on the line so she has no doubts.

  “Rylee,” I say, shaking my head and looking down at our hands, calling to my superheroes asking for help to not fuck this up, before looking back up at her. “I was a man racing through life, the idea of love never crossing my radar. It just wasn’t for me. And then you crashed into my life. You saw good in me when I didn’t. You saw possibility when I saw nothing. When I pushed you away, you pushed back ten times harder.” I close my eyes momentarily, a nervous laugh falling from my lips as I hope she understands how important that is to me. How she never gave up on me. Ever.

  I squeeze her hands as so many emotions fill me. I have to clear my throat to continue. “You showed me your heart, time and again. You taught me checkered flags are so much more valuable off the track than on. You brought light to my darkness with your selflessness, your temerity …” The tears start falling down her cheeks and I know they’re from joy but I have to brush them away.

  “You’ve given me a life I never even knew I wanted, Ry. And for that? I promise to give myself to you—the broken, the bent, and every piece in between—wholeheartedly, without deception, without outside influences. I promise to text you songs to make you hear me when you just won’t listen. I promise to encourage your compassion because that’s what makes you, you. I promise to push you to be spontaneous because breaking rules is what I do best,” I say, trying to smile at her as it all catches up with me—the moment, the meaning, the woman willing to accept me—and I can’t help the tear that falls when I try to blink it away. I need something funny here, something to make her laugh so the sound of it will make me more at ease. “I promise to play lots and lots of baseball, making sure we touch each base. Home run!”

  She laughs and I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I’ll be able to make it through the rest of what I have to say and that I won’t fuck them up. That I’ve got this.

  “And that right there … that laugh? I promise to make you laugh like that every single day. And sigh. I like hearing your sighs too.” God that blush on her cheeks makes me want to take her upstairs and put it there from exertion. Soon, Donavan. Soon.

  “I promise nothing will be more valuable in my life than you. That you will never be inconsequential. That those you love, I’ll love too.” I look over toward the boys, knowing how important it is to acknowledge them. To let them know that they are part of this package deal too. “As I stand here promising to be yours, to give you all of me, I already know that a lifetime will never be long enough to love you. It’s just not possible. But, baby, I’ve got forever to try, if you’ll have me.”

  My last words tumble out. Hope I said everything I’m supposed to say in a set of vows but don’t really care if I didn’t because Rylee heard. She gets me.

  I pull the ring from my pocket and slide it on her trembling fingers. And the sight of my ring, the diamond band against her engagement ring, sends an adrenaline rush through me. Fills me with a pride I’ve never known and don’t think I can explain.

  She chokes out a yes and I think I say I love you. Scratch that. I know I did, but it’s all a blur because I realize that it’s my turn to listen. To be put on the hot spot because fuck if it’s not easier to say the words than it is to hear them, accept them, believe them.

  Earn them.

  And then she touches my cheek and motherfucker … her hand on my face makes every ounce of testosterone in my body beg to take her. I glance over at the person marrying us, giving her the help a brother out look, to see if I can kiss her but am met with a deadpan expression.

  And as much as I want her lips on mine, I can wait. This moment means too much to me and I’ll have the rest of my life to kiss Rylee.

  Among other things. And hell if that’s not a great fucking motivating thought to keep my hands to myself right now.

  “Colton, as much as I tried to fight it, I think I’ve been in love with you since I fell out of that storage closet and crashed into your arms. A chance encounter. You saw a spark in me when all I’d felt for so long was grief. You showed me romance when you swore it wasn’t real. You taught me I deserve to feel when all I’d been for so long was numb.” Her voice is shaky at first and then she evens it out and it’s so goddamn sexy—that rasp in it—that I fall under her spell like I did that first night. I squeeze her hands to let her know it’s okay, I’m right here. That I can’t wait to listen to the rest of what she has to tell me.

  “You showed me scars—inside and out—are beautiful and to own them without fear. You showed me the real you—you let me in—when you always shut others out. You showed me such fortitude and bravery that I had no choice but to love you. And even though you never knew it, you showed me your heart time and time again. Every bent piece of it.”

  If I hadn’t already known what being broken felt like, I’d say those words of hers would have just shattered me, but in a good way. Because I know the difference. I’ll never break when I have her by my side because she’ll bend with me, hold the chips that break off when times get tough and help me put them back.

  She’s opened me up for all to see and now I know why she only wanted close friends of ours here instead of the massive party I suggested. She wanted me comfortable, willing to accept the fact that she just laid me wide open with her words and be okay with that, with the tears sliding down my cheeks.

  The woman knows me better than I know myself.

  “You say I brought light to your darkness, but I disagree. Your light was always there, I just showed you how to let it shine. You’re giving me the life I’ve always wanted. And for that? I promise to give myself to you—the defiance, the selflessness, the whole damn alphabet—wholeheartedly, without deception, without outside influences.”

  I force a swallow down my throat and before I can process everything, her lips are on mine. Yep, she knows exactly what I need.

  “Rule breaker,” I say, wanting so much more than the tease of her taste.

  “I learned from the best,” she says.

  There’s my girl, learning how to live on the edge.

  “I promise to encourage your free spirit and rule-breaking ways because that’s what makes
you, you. I promise to challenge you and push you so we can continue to grow into better versions of ourselves. I promise to be patient and hold your hand when you want it held the least, because that’s what I do best. I promise to text you songs too so we can keep the lines of communication open between us. And I promise to wear dresses with zippers up the back.”

  What? She throws me but when I hear Haddie laughing and look over to her I can only begin to guess what she’s told Ry. But I’ll take it because a zipper up the back means she needs my hands on her to help.

  And hands on her naked curves are never a bad thing.

  “I promise a lifetime of laughter, ice cream breakfasts, and pancake dinners. And as much as I love waving that checkered flag? Batter-up, baby.”

  Game on. Yes, she’s taken ladies and gents. This woman is one hundred percent mine.

  “I promise that nothing will be more valuable in my life than you—because everything else is inconsequential—and you, Colton, are most definitely not. I remember sitting in a Starbucks watching you and wondering what it would be like to get the chance to love you, and now I get a lifetime to find out. And I still don’t think that will be enough time.”

  I watch as Rylee slides the ring on my finger and wait for the fear to take hold. For the what the fuck am I doing to fill my thoughts. But there’s nothing. Fucking nothing but love.

  And then Becks starts coughing.

  “You’re next, fucker.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. And when I look up to meet Ry’s eyes as everyone is around us laughing and she’s smiling wide at me, I realize just how right I got this. Letting her in. Letting her help heal me.

  Letting her love me.

  “Colton, we’ve got forever to try, if you’ll have me?”

  “You know this is permanent, right?” I stare into her eyes. The ones I know narrow and glare when she’s pissed at me, the ones that close halfway before rolling up when she’s about to come, the ones that widen in surprise or brim with tears when she’s touched, and I realize I can’t wait to wake up every morning of the rest of my life and learn how else they can look at me. Fuck I’m lucky.