by Molly McLain
What the hell am I watching?
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you feel better,” she says, presumably to the groaning person in the background. She winks at the camera as she walks backwards, her hands behind her back as if she’s unzipping her dress. It’s hard to tell because the room she’s in is so dark, but when the fabric falls forward and her white bra and panties flash in the camera’s light, her intent is obvious.
Bria’s undressing for someone and, given she shared this video with me, I only need one guess to figure out who that person might be.
I swallow hard and watch her climb onto a bed. There’s a dark figure lying down and he says something as she straddles his lap. His words are inaudible, though they match the gritty, ill moaning from only moments earlier.
He didn’t tell you about Myrtle Beach, did he?
Bria’s text from earlier flashes through my mind as she shrugs out of her bra on the screen and leans down so the man can nuzzle between her breasts.
“I’ll make you forget about her,” she says in a sultry voice, and nausea raises in my throat.
I still can’t see the man’s face, but I know that spiky hair and those thick arms even in shadow.
He lied to me.
“Say my name, Col.” His name on her tongue has me trying to frantically shut down the video, but my hands shake so badly that I fail to close it down before he responds with the most damning evidence of all…
“Taylor.”
Chapter Fifteen
Colton
Taylor isn’t at the gate when I return from the garage. I shoot her a quick text and try to call her directly, but her voicemail picks up before the line even rings.
“Hey, Sara, have you seen Taylor?” I ask Brandon’s fiancée, who’s chatting up one of the security guards by the media room entrance.
She holds up a finger and finishes her conversation before giving me her full attention. “Yep. She just left.”
“Left?” My mouth drops open. What the hell?
Sara frowns. “She wasn’t supposed to?”
“No.” Scrubbing a hand around the back of my next, I text her again. Everything okay, babe? “I wanted to introduce her to everyone.”
“Hmm.” The pretty blonde approaches, her mouth twisted to the side. “Maybe her nerves got the best of her.”
I guess it’s possible, since we never officially agreed to come out as a couple yet. Anyone following from back home could see the coverage tonight, and Casey’s wedding is still a full week away.
I start to text her again when a message pops up: You lied to me.
Huh?
Her next message is some kind of video, so I open the darkened clip, expecting it to be of her.
Only it’s not.
“What the fuck is this?” I mutter to myself and Sara moves in close, glancing down at my phone as Bria’s face fills the screen. For the next minute, we watch in stunned silence until whoever the bunny’s dangling her tits for says his first discernible word: Taylor.
My blood runs cold and my ears start to ring. Sara’s eyes go wide and she blinks up at me, but I barely register her shock. My own disbelief is running too rampant through my veins.
I have no goddamn idea what this video is, but it’s sure as hell not what it appears to be, I know that much.
“Colton…” Sara says my name slowly, her gaze shifting between me and the scene still playing out on my phone. “That looks like my guest bedroom.”
I laugh. Full on fucking laugh. “This never happened, Sara. I don’t know what this is, but it’s sure as fuck not what it looks like.”
A deep crease settles in her brow. “You just said Taylor’s name.”
“I didn’t say anything.” The only time I’ve touched Bria since Taylor and I started messing around was for the media. I know what this looks like, but I’m a million percent sure that it never happened.
Sara takes the phone and continues to watch. I can’t look. It’s bad enough seeing the disgust and shock play across her face as the noises coming from the speakers become more and more obvious.
Fucking. Hard, body slapping fucking with Bria saying my name over and over again.
Finally, Sara shuts it off and the expression she turns up at me is ice cold. “I can’t say with certainty that this is my guest bedroom, but it sure looks like it could be.”
“If it is, it’s not me.” I know I’ve said it several times already, but it’s the only thing I’m certain of.
She narrows her eyes. “I can’t say it’s you, either, other than Bria repeating your name.”
“It’s a set-up,” I snap. I don’t know which pathetic loser she talked into playing her sick little game, but… “And no one fucking messes with Taylor.”
“I want to believe you, Col, but this is pretty damning.” She holds up the phone. “What’s your recollection of that night?”
My shoulders tighten, but I tell her the truth. “You told me not to call Taylor, but I did anyway. I couldn’t help myself. I had to let her know how I felt.”
She nods, so I continue on.
“Then Bria found me on the beach and helped me back to the house. I woke up in your guest bedroom the next morning.” My jaw pulses as I note the questions in her eyes. “She tried to stay, but I had enough wherewithal to push her out of the room. I even locked the door behind her.”
“You were drunk.”
“But not enough to do something like that!” I point at the phone, then push all ten of my fingers into my hair. “She’s trying to pull another fucking stunt. Trying to cause problems for me with Taylor, because shit isn’t working out for her and Liz like they hoped it would.”
How could I have fallen for this crap again? I felt sorry for her, and she used it to her fucking advantage.
“Where is she?” I growl, scanning the remaining crowd for the lying bitch, but Sara grabs my arm.
“You need to find Taylor right now, Colton. Forget Bria.”
“Fuck!” My fists ball tight, because I know she’s right. I can’t keep letting this woman get to my head. I’m playing right into her game just like she wants.
“Dude, what’s going on?” Tito exits the media room, looking confused. “We’re waiting for you.”
Sara’s fingers tighten on my forearm. “Go back to the hotel. Maybe you can catch her.”
Catch her? I blink down at her for it registers. “Shit.” Shit, shit, shit. “Tell Louie I’m sorry.”
Sara nods as I take off for the locker room at a sprint.
I will not let Bria drive another wedge between me and Taylor.
No way in hell.
- - -
Taylor
Knees pulled up to my chin, I sit against the headboard, watching the video for the fourth time since I arrived back at the hotel. The front of my shirt is soaked from my tears, but an eerie calm has settled over me, despite the watery emotion.
Self-preservation, I hear my mother say. One day I woke up and I was just done with it all.
Only, I can’t be done. The innocent little being inside of me won’t let that happen. It would have been so easy to have the cab driver take me straight to the airport from the arena, but that’s what the old Taylor would have done. She would’ve told Colton to kiss her ass, and she would’ve reacted on nothing but her emotions.
This version of me is still angry. Hateful, even. I’m sick to death of being taken for granted and I’m sick of Colton breaking my heart over and over again for a few moments of fame and thrill. Or whatever the hell it was he was after when he did this.
I glare at the images on my phone and suck in a deep breath.
It matters little that he was drunk—over me—that night in Myrtle Beach. It also matters little that he was clearly miserable, at least at the beginning of the video. I have no doubt that he was feeling like shit for what happened between us and I don’t doubt that he also loves me in some capacity. He did say my name, after all.
But if this is his way of bei
ng in love, I’ll pass. I won’t be part of a relationship that’s as one-sided as my parents’ became. I won’t sit in wait, worrying about what might happen next or, worse, what’s happening when I’m not around. I love Colton, just like I know my mom loves my dad, but I won’t settle.
“Taylor?” The hotel door clicks open and Colton bounds in with a breathless huff. He’s still in his riding pants and T-shirt, and his eyes are wide and panicked as they land on me. “It’s not me,” he says adamantly. “I don’t know how to prove it, but I swear to God, it’s not. I would never do that to you.”
Swallowing hard, I try to hold my chin steady. “I watched the video, Col. I’m not blind. Or deaf, for that matter.”
“Tee…” His voice cracks as he steps closer, fear shadowing every line in his face. “I know what it looks like, but it’s not. You have to believe me.”
“I heard your message that night, Col.” I smile, though it’s an entirely defensive gesture. “I know how wasted you were. I also know she was with you, because I talked to her.”
“She found me on the beach and walked with me back to Sara and Brandon’s. She tried to come onto me, but I shut her down. When she left, I locked the door.”
He’s so insistent. Like he actually believes what he says is true.
“Taylor, I’d never hurt you like that.”
I shake my head, as more tears fall. “But you did, remember? You had sex with me, said those three little words, and then you said you were going to be with her anyway.”
“I thought it was the right move!” He throws his hands in the air and I fire right back, pushing off the bed and marching straight to him.
“And I thought that I could trust you!” I bury my finger in the center of his chest and he flinches.
“She’s trying to ruin us.” Jaw clenched tight, I can practically hear his teeth grinding
“Why?” I laugh. “What the hell have you done that would make her hate you so much?”
“Nothing.” He gives his head a quick shake. “She and Liz want money. That’s it. That’s what this is all about.”
“That and the fact that you can’t stay away from the drama.”
“What?” He rolls away from me, his expression all kinds of twisted. “Are you serious right now?”
“You came back to me, swearing that everything she and Liz did was more than you’d bargained for. More than you’d ever agreed to.” I cross my arms over my chest. “But I’m not sure that’s what really happened.”
He blinks down at me. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this right now.”
“You enjoy the drama, Col. You like being in the spotlight. But you want to have your cake and eat it, too. You want me and all the fun on the side.”
“Nothing about that is true. Nothing,” he seethes.
“Bullshit!” I slap my hands against my thighs, as a mixed bag of emotions roll through me like a drowning wave. In my heart, I know he’s not the asshole I’m making him out to be right now, but I can’t stop the anger—or the fear—that pulses through me. Am I strong enough to live in this world with him?
He stands before me, mouth agape, and with eyes a shade of green I’ve never seen before. “I didn’t sleep with her again,” he repeats with a sense of calm that belies his intense expression. “And I’ll pretend that you didn’t just question my loyalty to you, because I know you’re upset and it’s easier to point fingers when you’re frustrated.”
I make a wry sound and push a hand through my hair, suddenly needing space.
“I love you, Taylor.” His throat works as he swallows. “And I will do whatever it takes to prove to you that this is another fucking set-up.”
I narrow my eyes as he pulls out his phone and scrolls until he finds what he wants.
Cell stuck to his ear, he swallows hard. “Dante? Hey, it’s Colton Wade. Shit just got real. You still interested in helping me out?”
- - -
Colton
By the time I finish talking to Dante, Taylor’s bag is packed and she’s on the phone, scheduling a flight home.
“Don’t go,” I say quietly, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Stay and talk to me about this.”
Instead of acknowledging me, she continues her conversation with the airline agent.
Despite her tears, she’s calm. Determined, too, which seems more defensive than genuine. My gut tells me that she knows I’m not lying, but she’s too bullheaded to admit it.
“Tee…” I carefully close the distance between us, sliding my hand along the small of her back as she listens to the person on the other end of the line. “Baby, hang up.”
She shoots me an impatient glare. “Okay,” she says into the phone. “I’d appreciate that.” Then she hangs up. “I have nothing more to say, Col.”
What’s going on in that pretty head of hers? Why this over-the-top reaction?
“I’ll figure this out. I promise.”
Her eyes flutter shut as she shakes her head. “You go ahead and do what you have to do, but it won’t change my mind.”
Her clipped words stab straight through my chest. I understand her anger and her hurt, because if the tables were turned, I’d feel the same damn way. Hell, I’d be halfway to Wisconsin right now, intent on taking down whoever touched her.
“I need some time to get my head straight,” she says quietly. “I told you a long time ago that this world isn’t for me, Col. And no matter how hard I want that to be different, it’s just not. This crap with Bria keeps driving that point home.”
“Don’t let this be your measuring stick,” I beg her. “Not until I’ve proved myself.”
Tears fill her eyes and she shakes her head once again. “I need to go, Col.”
Sudden anger gathers like a storm in my gut. “You’re letting her win.”
“Not everything is about winning and losing, Col.”
“Fuck that,” I spat. “In all the years we’ve been friends, you’ve never run away from me. Why now?”
Something vulnerable passes over her face and she shifts her gaze away.
“You don’t need to answer, because I already know. You’re doubting my commitment not only to our friendship, but our relationship, too.” I scrub a hand over my face and chuckle. “Is this ever going to work, Taylor? Us being something more? Because right now I’m not so sure.”
A small sob sounds in her throat and she turns toward her luggage. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t,” I call after her, but she doesn’t stop until she reaches the door. “If you walk out that door it’s on you, not me, babe.”
She pauses with her hand on the knob. “I love you.”
“Sure, you do.”
My words make her flinch, but then she lifts her head and pulls her shoulders back. “Goodbye, Col.”
Chapter Sixteen
Taylor
I make it to the lobby, before I acknowledge that I really have nowhere to go. At least not until 9 a.m., when the first available flight to Wisconsin leaves Phoenix. Why Delta isn’t in sync with my emotional ups and downs, I don’t know, but it’s damn inconvenient.
All I want to do is go home. Even if I’m not sure where that is anymore. I told Adam I wouldn’t be back in Madison other than to pick up my things, and I can’t go back to Maribel right now, either.
Thanks, Bria. Thanks for fucking up my plans, once again.
With a sigh, I wheel my suitcase over to the registration desk and flash a quick, albeit weak, smile at the young woman behind the counter.
“Do you happen to have a room available for the night?” I pray to God that my face doesn’t look as swollen and red as it feels.
When the brunette glances up from the computer and flinches, I sigh. Oh, well. Can’t be fresh-faced all the time.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t,” she tells me. “Adele performed down the street earlier tonight, and there was a motorcycle event a block over, as well.”
“Motocross,” I correct her and she lifts a shoul
der.
“Same thing.”
Not really, but whatever.
“Look, I just had a fight with my boyfriend and—” The words die on my tongue the moment my brain catches up with my mouth. Boyfriend. I’ve never called Col that before and, pissed as am at him—and myself—butterflies flutter in my stomach.
I won’t deny that the circumstances surrounding Bria’s little gift in my inbox are suspicious. Especially considering that Colton’s face never comes to light in the video, almost as if it’s intentional.
I didn’t admit that skepticism to Col, though, and I’m not sure why I put my foot down so hard, either. I’m just…tired. And hurt. And so, so sick of the drama. Why can’t he just get rid of this woman and her bitchy agent friend once and for all? After catching her and Bria sharing those private smiles earlier, I’m positive she’s in on this, too.
The thing is…Col needs to deal with it. Somehow, some way…it needs to stop.
But what about your “we’re a team mentality”, Taylor? What about not letting him get screwed over?
Ugh. I swallow down the self-doubt, and try again with the clerk. “I just need something for a few hours. My other options are camping out in the lobby or heading to the airport now, neither of which are going to give me the sleep I need.” I press a hand to my stomach and thankfully the gesture catches her attention.
“You’re pregnant?”
I nod.
“And he kicked you out of your room at midnight? What a jerk.”
I spare her the truth and choose a pathetic sigh instead. “Yep.”
“Wow.” She begins typing on her keyboard again. “I might be able to put you up in one of the rooms we reserve for staff, but I’d have to check with my manager first. She’s on break right now.”
Waiting out a break is a hell of a lot more appealing than living in the airport for seven plus hours. “I’d appreciate that. I’ll grab some ginger ale at the bar and check back in a half hour?”
“Actually, why don’t you go sit and relax. I’ll find you when everything is set.”