Page 23 of Ride or Die (The Shores #1)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

APOLOGY

LAYLA

It’s cooler today, but still warm enough that I decide to wear one of my sundresses Colton loves so much. He’s been respectful of my need for space today, texting only to say the street racing crew is heading out to race in the countryside tonight but that he wants to talk and wouldn’t be going.

I spent the day getting my head straight, reciting what to say to him to apologize.

Truthfully, I have been stalling, embarrassed by my actions towards him.

Colt has done nothing but build me up and try to reassure me of his feelings for me.

He's given me no reason to believe his words are not genuine.

I should trust him and face these challenges head-on, not run away acting like some little sensitive good girl when things get tough.

If anything, I’m more worried he won’t want to be with me anymore.

Once I finish getting ready, I look at myself in the mirror; I look hot, and Colton Hawthorne has no idea what is about to hit him.

I take my time walking there, trying to figure out how to approach this. I fucked up and probably hurt him in the process. He could have anyone, but he chose and pursued me. He sleeps beside me every night. He is with me almost every waking moment.

He told me he loves me.

As I approach the house, I notice the garage door is open and the lights are on. Music is playing, but not loudly, and there he is, standing beside his car in all his sexy glory.

Everything I planned to say vacates my brain as I watch him. My mind is completely blank. That never happens.

Colt is wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, wiping down his car with a cloth. His black hat is backwards, his messy hair spilling out the sides. Starkly contrasted against his crisp white shirt, his tattoos make him look even more delicious.

He is totally in the zone, taking care of his prized possession.

Unaware of his audience, Colton stops to sip his drink, and my eyes follow the slow roll of his throat as he swallows.

My mouth goes dry, and my stomach flutters uncontrollably.

Heat spreads low in my belly, trickling south.

Something about seeing him like this, in his element, is so hot.

He leans back and crosses his arms, momentarily admiring the car in front of him. His muscles flex as he grabs his beer and takes another sip, licking a few drops from his lower lip. My mouth waters at the sight of him.

And how creepy am I? Staring at him from afar in the darkness like some crazy stalker. But I can’t help myself. Watching him move around is mesmerizing. I still can’t believe this guy wants me. That he was my first everything. That he is in love with me.

This guy has been inside of me. Too many times to count. My panties pool with wetness at the thought, and I know exactly how I want to apologize.

I fluff my hair, pull my shoulders back, and lift my head high as I strut towards the garage. When I step into the light, he glimpses me approaching.

He stops wiping the car, tucking the rag into his pocket as his eyes cascade over my entire body. A flash of excitement crosses them. In this light, the little flecks of blue in his gray eyes stand out, leaving him with an icy cool stare that draws me in and sends chills throughout my body.

“Layla, wow…” His raspy voice makes me weak in the knees. I bite my cheek to suppress a smile, happy he seems to like my outfit. I nod, maintaining eye contact as I walk farther into the garage.

Colton hasn’t shaved since I saw him yesterday, his five o'clock shadow enhancing his strong jawline perfectly. It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen him, even though it’s only been a day.

He watches me as I lean my hands onto the hood of the car, squeezing my tits together to give him a little show.

Colt takes a peek before meeting my eyes again.

I cock my brow, my lips twitching with a barely contained smile.

A small smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth too.

He knows he’s caught, exactly as I intended.

His tongue darts out, playing with his lower lip as he watches me, waiting for me to speak. Every lower muscle in me clenches, aching for that tongue to play with me.

Holy hell, I just can’t even with this guy.

Keep your shit together, Layla.

“So, you’re not out at the street race, eh?”

He shakes his head, and his eyes darken. “I told you I wasn’t going. I was hoping you would come by.” His deep voice vibrates through to my core, making my thighs squeeze together.

Sensing his effect on me, Colt takes a step closer, his familiar cologne surrounding me.

“So, tell me, what brings you by, White?” he asks with a teasing smirk. He’s using my last name because he knows it drives me crazy. I prefer the way he purrs when he says Layla.

I step back to remove myself from his hypnotism, walking around the car to put some extra distance between us. He rubs his chin, watching me with a playful grin.

Fuck, even when he’s not pursuing me, he manages to pursue me. It's like every time we're in each other's presence, our bodies are magnetically drawn to one another.

I clear my throat and attempt to get out whatever parts of my speech I have left.

“You. You brought me here, Hawthorne.” I stop on the other side of the car and take a deep breath.

“You’re a fucking paradox. You're a thief, a racer, you like living on the edge and you used to fuck every woman you saw. But, you’re smart, funny and genuine when you’re with me.

You’re hot as hell. And I fucking hate you for that because every woman wants you.

You’re exciting, and that terrifies me.” I stop my rant to take a breather, my chest heaving.

“Then there’s me. I play it safe. I study and work a regular job.

I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin with no friends, and I have a savings account for crying out loud.

I don’t go to parties. I don’t put myself out there.

I put up walls to keep anyone from getting close to me because it truly scares me.

But the thing is, I have to toughen up. I have to get over all the bullshit we’re going to face together because I want you, and that means accepting all the drama that comes with you.

I’ve played it safe my whole life. I need the bad boy. I need the thrill. I need you.”

A smile crosses his gorgeous face as he silently stares, waiting for me to continue. Fuck, I want to eat him up.

"I'm sorry for not trusting you. I'm sorry for not listening when you tried to explain what happened. I'm sorry I shut you out because of those stupid bitches. It wasn't fair of me, and I can’t keep doing that."

He nods. "I understand why you did, Layla. It's a lot coming into this world as an outsider, especially on my arm. I forgive you. But yes, you do need to trust me. I've been nothing but honest with you."

"I know. I'm done running away. I promise."

With the weight of my apology off my chest, I circle around the car towards him, seductively running my finger along the metal. His eyes drink in my movements, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows hard.

I step up to him, dragging my hands over his muscular chest. His muscles twitch under my touch. I love the effect I have on him.

“Take me for a drive,” I say suggestively, my voice husky and unrecognizable as I look up at him.

“Get in,” he says, his voice deep and full of promise as he opens the door.

Like the good girl I am, I slide into the passenger side seat, my thighs gliding across the cool leather. Dresses aren’t leather seat friendly, yet this feels oddly erotic. This car is sexy as hell, and he keeps it clean, smelling just like him.

My aphrodisiac.

He gets into the car, and his eyes crawl up my entire body from toe to head. His mouth tips into a sexy grin as he admires me in the passenger seat. When his stormy blue eyes finally reach mine, he says, “You ready for the ride of your life, baby?”