Crashed

And for some reason, the story Tawny’s painted makes me laugh. I don’t believe the inside scoop on Page Six that says she and Colton have rekindled their love affair. I was in Colton’s house. I know how much he despises her and everything she represents. That’s not why I’m sad.

I just miss him. Everything about him.

The fu

Voices break through my thoughts as I cut the potatoes up for di

“We could always egg him.” That one was Shane.

What in the heck are they talking about?

“Hey, guys?” I call out to them as I wipe my hands off and head out to the living room. “Who’s here again?”

Shane tilts his head toward our front window. “That guy,” he says, pointing. “He thinks he’s so incognito parked over there.”

“Like we can’t see him,” Co

I’m immediately pulling the curtains back, looking down the street. Before I even spot the car, I know what I’m going to see. The dark blue sedan is parked a couple of houses down partially hidden by another car. I had completely forgotten about it.

At least this lone paparazzo is greedy and keeping my whereabouts quiet so he can get all the monetary gain for himself. For that I can be grateful. But it also means that if he’s figured it out, others will soon follow wanting to get the scoop from the home-wrecker I am purported to be.

Fuck! I knew The House’s anonymity was too good to be true.

“C’mon guys. Time to—”

“That’s so cool that you’re go

I start to correct him when Shane does it for me, with a playful shove to his shoulder. “No she’s not, dickweed! Colton’s the one who’s famous. Don’t you know anything?”

“Hey! Clean it up!” I shout after them.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Not a problem,” Haddie says as she guns the motor when the light turns green. “It was kind of fun teasing the photographers, although I don’t think any of them believed me when I said you were hiding away inside the house.”

I groan. It’s taken a while to get used to photographers milling about the house, but now I fear that the few I’m used to will turn into a whole yard full. “Dare I ask?”

Haddie looks over at me and just flashes her devil-may-care grin. “Nope, you may not because we’re not thinking about it … or Colton … or me … absofuckinglutely nothing of any significance.”

“We’re not?” I look over at her and can’t help but smile, can’t help but be happy she was available to pick me up from work to try and keep the vultures at bay.

“Nope!” she says as the tires squeal on a turn. “We’re go

I laugh with her, the idea sounding like Heaven. A moment to escape from the thoughts constantly ru

She shrugs and is unusually quiet for a beat before she speaks. “Just some stuff with Lexy.” I’m about to ask what she’s talking about, because she and her sister are so close, but she beats me to the punch. “We’re not talking about anything that needs to be talked about, remember?”

“Sounds good!” I tell her as music springs to life in the car and we both start singing along.

I set my glass down with a clink, realizing my lips are a little bit numb. No, make that a lot numb. I watch Haddie smirk at the man across the bar and then turn her focus back on me, her smirk spreading into a full out grin. “He looks kinda like Stone,” she says with a shrug, and I’m glad my drink is empty or else I would have spit it out.

I don’t know why it’s so fu

“Uh-uh-uh,” Haddie says realizing what I’m thinking about. “Another round,” she says to the bartender. “Don’t think about him. You promised, Ry. No boys. No sadness. No penis perturbance allowed.”

“You’re right,” I tell her with a laugh, hoping she believes me even though I know I’m not being very convincing. “No penis perturbance allowed.” The waiter slides new glasses in front of us. “Thank you,” I murmur as I concentrate on stirring the ice with my straw instead of thinking of Colton and wondering what he’s doing, where his head is at. And I fail miserably. “I told him about Stone the other day.”

I’m surprised Haddie can hear me. My voice is so soft, but I know she does because she slaps her hand on the bar. “I knew you couldn’t do it!” she shouts, garnering the attention of the people around us. “I knew that no matter how much you’ve had to drink we’d end up there.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, twisting my lips. “I really am.” I focus back on my drink, upset over letting my friend down.

“Hey,” she says, rubbing a hand up my arm. “I can’t imagine … I’m sorry … I was just trying to shake the dick dominance and embrace our i

“I

“So have you talked to him?” She asks.

“I thought we weren’t talking about dick dominating, penis perturbing men named Colton or Stone.” I snicker.

“Well,” she draws the word out. “Yours is damn hard not to talk about when he looks like that with his sexy swagger, come-fuck-me eyes, and all around holy hotness. Shit, the only reason to kick a man like him out of bed would be to fuck him on the floor.”

I start laughing, really laughing until all of a sudden the laughter has tears welling in my eyes and causes my lower lip to tremble. I hiccup back the sob and I immediately curse the alcohol—it has to be the alcohol’s fault—that I am suddenly sad and missing him like crazy.

Get a grip, Thomas! It’s been one frickin’ week. Man up. My internal pep talk fails because one day or ten days, it doesn’t matter. I miss him like crazy. Whatever the opposite of pussy whipped is, I’ve got it bad.

“And she finally lets it out,” Haddie says, putting her arm around my shoulders and pulling me into her side.

“Shut up!” I tell her but don’t mean it.

I mean I’m sitting in a bar on a Friday night with my best friend and I should be having a great time, but all I can think about is Colton. Is he okay? Has he taken the paternity test yet? Is he going to call me? Why hasn’t he called me? Is he thinking about me like I am him?

“So I’m go

I finally give her the laugh she’s been working for. “Ugh! I hate this.”

“Then why don’t you call him?”

And therein lies the million dollar question.

“This whole thing with Tawny fucked him up. It’s dredging up shit from his past and as much as I want to be there—to call him—I won’t take the brunt of it. I called Becks to check on him, make sure he’s okay.” I shrug. “He said he did and that Colton’s still kind of fucked up. I want to talk to him,” I admit as she smooths a hand up my arm, “but I need to give him the space he asked for. He’ll call me when he gets his shit together.”