“Rylee.” She nods, her perfect lips not quite forming a smile. “I came to get a tour of the place before I make a donation to the new project. I want to know exactly what my money is going to be used for.”
Well, hello to you too! I smile tightly, inviting her in. She could at least grace me with a little warmth—anything to melt her icy façade. What the hell have I done to her to deserve this deliberate chill?
“I’d be glad to give you a tour,” I force, wishing I could pawn her off on another counselor to show her around, but my manners and professionalism win out. Besides, something tells me this little visit is about more than checking out the facility for a donation. I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Please follow me.”
I inform Avery that she’s in charge of watching the boys and then proceed to show Quinlan the entire facility and explain its benefits. I’m probably rambling but she hasn’t asked any questions. Rather she has just stared at me the whole time with a quiet yet critical appraisal. And after about twenty minutes, I realize the inspection isn’t being done on The House or what we have to offer my boys. It’s solely on me.
I’ve had enough.
I glance to make sure that all of the boys are still outside playing with Avery before turning to face her. “Why is it you’re really here, Quinlan?” My tone matches the fuck you, no nonsense that I feel.
“To see if the facility is worthy of my donation,” she responds too sweetly to be true. She holds my gaze but I see something flicker in the ice queen’s eyes.
“I appreciate it as the facility and the kids are worthy of it,” I tell her, “but let’s be honest, why are you here? To see if the facility is worthy of your donation or if I’m worthy of your brother?” Quinlan’s eyes flash as I hit a direct bull’s-eye. Being protective of your brother is one thing. I understand that. Being a complete bitch is a whole different story. “Which one is it?”
She cocks her head and looks at me. “I’m just trying to figure out your angle.”
“My angle?”
“Yes, your angle.” Her voice is implacable and her eyes are right up there with Colton’s on the intensity scale. “You’re not the typical bimbo that Colton goes for…so I’m trying to figure out what exactly it is you want out of this. From him.” She twists her lips as she stares at me. I’m sure the shocked look on my face is something to stare at.
“I beg your pardon,” I sputter, more than offended.
“Are you a race groupie? Are you looking to land a part in my dad’s newest film? An aspiring model looking to sleep your way up the ranks? I can’t wait to hear what yours will be.”
“What?” I just stare at her for a moment, shock ricocheting through me until it churns to anger. “How dare you—”
“Oh, I get it now.” She smirks, sarcasm dripping from her words, and all I want to do is throttle her. “You need his money to finish this little project of yours,” she says, motioning to the space around her. “You’re using him to get your notoriety that way.”
“That’s uncalled for.” I take a step forward, pushed to the point that I don’t care that she’s Colton’s sister. I’d like to say something a lot worse, but I’m at work and I never know when impressionable ears are listening. But I can only be pushed so far before I throw my manners out the window, and she just shoved. “You know what, Quin? I’ve tried to be nice, tried to overlook your shitty attitude and your condescending sneer, but I’m done. Colton pursued me—not the other way around.” She arches an eyebrow at me as if she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah...” I laugh “...I find it hard to believe too, but he did. I don’t want a damn thing from your brother except for him to open up to the possibility that he deserves more than what he’s allowed himself thus far in his life.” I step back, shaking my head at her. “I don’t need to explain myself to you or justify your asinine accusations. Thanks for your false pretense of a donation, but I don’t want your money. Not in return for your judgment on me. I think it’s time you leave.” I point toward the hallway, my body vibrating with anger.
She smiles broadly at me, her face dropping its guard and filling with warmth for the first time since I’ve met her. “Not yet. We’re not done here.”
What? Great, can’t wait for the rest of this stimulating conversation.
“I knew you were for real.” She smirks, pulling in a deep breath. “I just needed to make sure that I was right.”
Whiplash.
Did I miss something here? I’m so confused right now that my mouth opens as I look at her like she’s bat-shit-crazy. The schizophrenic changing of subjects like Colton does must run in the family.
When I just stand there staring at her with disdain she continues. “I’ve never seen Colton like that at the track before. He brings his bimbos, they flit around like arm candy, but he disregards them. He never lets someone distract him when he’s in the car. You distracted him. I’ve never seen him so...” she searches for a word “...smitten with someone before.” She crosses her arms across her chest and leans against the wall. “And my dad tells me you were at the Broadbeach house? Then to top it off Becks tells me you went to Vegas with them?”
What is it with the women in Colton’s life keeping tabs on me and passing judgment?
Smitten? Colton may have said that I scare him, but in no way did he infer love or even hint at that. Definitely not smitten. I’m something different than his typical in-your-face, I-want-something-from-you-in-return type of girl. I burn him. I scare him. But for some reason despite all of that, I don’t make him want to try for something more than what he’s used to. I’m not enough to make him change his ways. He’s not going to confront his demons when he’s not even willing to talk about them. And that’s the only way I think he’ll be able to give into the emotion I see brimming in his eyes and feel in the worshiping actions of his touch.