Page 47 of Ride or Die
Now, I definitely have some ass-kissing to do to Mr. Hawthorne.
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 isin love with me.
This guy has beeninsideof 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.
