“We’ve been running these events for so many years now, I think I could organize one in my sleep.” She rolls her eyes, but it’s easy to see she really enjoys it.
We spend a few more minutes chatting as Rylee shows me around the room, explaining how the evening will go. She’s showing me to my seat when a gorgeous man approaches us and slides his arm around her waist. He pulls her back into his body and drops a kiss to her bare shoulder.
“Ryles,” he murmurs against her skin.
“Ace,” she whispers, tipping her head back to accept a kiss from him. They’re so wrapped up in each other I actually feel like I'm intruding on a private moment. I’m about to slip away to give them some privacy when Rylee reaches out for my hand.
“Ace, this is Brooke. She’s the new art therapist I was telling you about. Brooke, this is my husband, Colton.” Pride shines in her eyes as she introduces us.
He reaches out to shake my hand, but I’m kind of busy gawking at how beautiful this man is. I should be embarrassed because he’s my friend’s husband, but I get the feeling she’s used to it. You’d have to be used to it, being married to a man who looks like he walked off a Hollywood movie set. There’s something about him that’s vaguely familiar, but I’m sure I wouldn’t forget meeting a man like this before. He's not someone you’d easily forget.
“It’s good to finally meet you. My wife speaks very highly of you.”
“Thank you,” I finally manage to get out, proud of myself for not melting into a puddle at his feet. “I love working with Rylee and the boys.”
We’re soon interrupted by another couple who are introduced as Beckett and Haddie. I’m quickly becoming intimidated by how gorgeous all these people are. I’m offered a drink by a passing waiter, and soon enough I feel myself relaxing into the conversations going on around me. It’s obvious from the easy way they are with each other that they’ve been close for a long time.
A few drinks later we’re seated at a large round table at the front of the room, and I’m grateful to see that Rylee has a seat reserved for me next to her. I’m okay with being alone most of the time, but the thought of having to sit with strangers is not all that appealing.
“Donavan,” a rotund man approaches the table and slaps Colton lightly on the shoulder. “That was some race last weekend. Your boys are not messing around this season.”
Nobody around me pays any attention to the newcomer; they’re all too busy with their own conversations, but something about what they’re saying holds my attention. Snippets of things come back to me. Thoughts move around my mind like a broken puzzle sliding together.
He called him Donavan. Colton Donavan. Where have I heard that name before? I wrack my brain trying to work it out.
Heat rushes to my face as realization sets in. I might have spent the last ten years avoiding all things motor racing related, but I should have remembered Colton freaking Donavan. Memories of watching his races with my dad and Tucker rush through my mind.
Tucker. The one thing I've been running from.
“I’m going to be an even better driver than him one day,” he would say, never taking his eyes off the screen as he watched intently, engrossed in the cars flying around the track.
Tears fill my eyes as the unwanted memories assault me, one after another. All I see is the way his face would light up as he talked about how he was going to be the best the racing world had seen. Even as a starry-eyed teenager, I believed him. Believed in him.
I need to get out of here before I lose the battle with my escalating emotions. Snatching my bag from the table, I push to my feet. I don’t stop to say goodbye to anyone, glad that they’re all too absorbed in their own conversations to notice me leaving.
I’m pushing my way through the door when a hand wraps around my elbow, gently pulling me to a stop.
“Brooke, are you okay?” Rylee asks softly, concern pulling her brows down into a deep frown.
“I’m so sorry,” I try to speak past the lump in my throat. “I need to go.”
“Did something happen? Did someone do something to you?” Her concern is another hit to my frayed nerves. Why am I being like this? Why am I not strong enough to face the memories?
“No!” I gasp, pissed at myself for causing a scene like this. “It’s nothing like that. I'm fine. I just really need to go.”
Rylee must hear the desperation in my voice because her face softens, and her grip eases. She opens her mouth to say something, but a deep, rasping voice beats her to it.
“Let her go, Rylee.” The words are a hot rasp, hardly audible over the raucous laughter coming from the party that’s still going on around us. “Running away is what she does best; isn’t that right, Brooke?”
CHAPTER FOUR
TUCKER
“I can’t believe I let Rylee talk me into this shit,” I grumble, yanking at the restrictive tie I was forced to wear tonight. I already can’t wait to get home and get out of this shit.
“Have you ever successfully said no to my mom?” Zander chuckles as he passes me another bottle of beer.
“That is true.” I grin, leaning back on the bar and taking a long drink from the cold bottle in my hand. “We better get to the table before she comes looking for us.” I can’t say I enjoy these events, but I know how much it means to the Donavans, so I try
