I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. I needed to get out of the hotel, and I needed to get away from the show. In my moment of desperation, I managed to find a crew member with a car that I could borrow—one who wouldn’t tell anyone where I had gone. For a price.

But it was a price I was willing to pay just to have distance between myself and everything else. Just to have a moment to myself with just the road ahead of me. This was the kind of driving I could handle—going somewhere, going nowhere.

The Hamptons were quiet, subdued, at this hour. The streets were clear, and I had the road to myself. I could just drive. Could just keep going.

For a moment, I thought about driving to the city. Or farther. Maybe I’d just head all the way home. Except, if I did that, I would be violating my contract with Ever After. I’d give them reason to sue me. I’d lose the money I so desperately needed. And then I’d have no chance of getting my life back on track.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I hit my hand on the steering wheel, wondering why I was freaking out as much as I was about the group date tomorrow. Obviously I didn’t have any trouble getting behind the wheel of a car, but for whatever reason, the mere mention of a race track, of racing, had made my entire body shut down.

Maybe it was because I could still see Liam’s car crashing into the guardrail. I could still hear the crunch of metal, could still feel the heat from the fire that engulfed his car, even as we all ran towards him, hoping against hope that we’d be able to get him out. But it had been too late. The doctor said he died on impact, and I hoped it was true, because the thought of one of my best friends trapped in that fiery, twisted hunk of metal, unable to get out, made my stomach turn. And it was a thought I couldn’t get out of my head.

My phone buzzed. It had been buzzing since I left the hotel, and I knew who it was. I knew it was Paige. She had been blowing up my phone for the past few hours. And I didn’t blame her. After all, I had taken a perfectly nice moment—one where her hand was on my dick, for fuck’s sake—and allowed myself to get all freaked out about something that I should have been over by now.

Because it was just a car. It was just a track. Avoiding it wasn’t going to make Liam any less dead. Still, I couldn’t help the cold sweat breaking out over my entire body, and the panic that kept rising in my throat. I used to love racing. I used to love getting in my car, running my hands over the steering wheel, how the whole thing felt like an extension of my body.

I’d lost that joy. Liam’s death had taken all of that away.

All I had left were bad memories, it seemed. Promises that I had made and couldn’t keep any longer.

The only thing that had been good in the past few months had been my brief encounters with Paige. When I was with her, I didn’t feel like the failed, grieving racer. I felt good. Happy. And I had just up and walked out on her without any explanation. Like a real jerk.

I headed back to the hotel. I hadn’t been fair to her.

Returning the car to the crew guy I had borrowed it from, I headed out towards the beach. It was quiet and calm, the waves lapping against the shore. It reminded me of the other night, of Paige and me in the boat, where her sexy little gasps had filled my ears as she came.

Pulling out my phone, I finally replied to her frantic texts.

Sorry that I ran out on you, I said. I’m on the beach. I can explain if you’re willing to hear me out.

I waited for a response, practically holding my breath until I saw the three little bubbles that indicated that she was typing.

I’ll be there in ten, she finally texted back.

It was cold on the beach, but the breeze felt nice against my face. I kept looking out at the ocean, watching the moon reflected off its surface. The water was choppy, the waves mesmerizing.

I heard Paige, her feet slightly muffled in the sand. She came up next to me and didn’t say anything. Just waited.

“One of my first friends in racing was a guy named Liam Lancaster,” I said, not looking at her. I couldn’t. Not until I got all of it out. “He was one of the best. He knew cars. Knew how they worked, knew how to drive them. He had an instinct for the sport. But he also liked to take risks. He’d do anything to win.”

I remembered how we used to egg each other on, me, him and Jean-Luc. We all wanted to win. We all wanted to be the best. Jean-Luc and I always took the teasing in stride, but Liam took it seriously. Even if you were joking, he would take it as a challenge.

“We were friends, but we were also competitors,” I told Paige. “Whenever we raced, neither of us wanted to settle for second place. Liam was obsessed with winning. I egged him on. And I pushed him too hard.”

Paige remained silent, and I took a deep breath.

“He’d been in a few crashes—we all have—but he never seemed to be phased by them. If anything, they seemed to make him more reckless. More dangerous on the track. And then one day, he went too far. I had won my heat and he wanted to show me up. Tried to cut off another driver, tried to get to the front. It was a stupid, risky move. It never would have worked and he should have realized that, but he wanted to win. He was going to do anything to win. His car flipped. Crashed and burned. Dead on impact.”

I heard a soft gasp from Paige, but I kept my eyes focused ahead.

“I was there. I saw them pull his body from the wreckage. And I haven’t raced since that day.” I finally turned to look at her. “I can’t. Every time I think about getting behind the wheel on a track again . . . I just can’t.”

There were tears shining in Paige’s eyes.

“It’s not something I like to talk about,” I told her. “But that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I was a jerk for just walking out without any explanation.”

“I understand,” she told me, taking my face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Dash.”

Her touch felt so good. So right. Everything with her felt right. In a way that I’d never experienced before.

“Do you need me to talk to Andrea and Patrick?” she asked. “Maybe we can do something else for the group date tomorrow.”

I gave her a half-hearted smile, unable to escape the irony of the situation. The only girl I was interested in was offering to make my date with seven other girls easier for me.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine,” I told her. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Are you su—” she started to ask, but stopped mid-word. Her head tilted to the side. “Did you hear something?”

I listened, but all I could hear were the waves.

“Maybe it was just my imagination,” Paige said when I shook my head. “But about tomorrow—”

I held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Let’s not talk about the show right now, OK?”

“OK,” she agreed, and entwined her fingers with mine. “I’m glad you came back,” she told me, her voice quiet.

“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”

* * *

We stayed on the beach for hours, just the two of us and the water and the sand and stars. It was cold, but I didn’t feel chilled at all with Paige snuggled up next to me. We talked about Liam, about racing, about a million little things. And then we just sat there, together. Paige had her head on my shoulder and after a while it began to get heavier. Glancing over, I realized that she was falling asleep, her eyes fluttering closed and then jerking open as she struggled to stay away.

“Come on,” I told her, holding out my hand and helping her up off the sand. “I think it’s time to go in.”

“I’m fine,” Paige argued, but it was immediately discredited by the large yawn that followed. She gave me a sheepish smile. “Ok, maybe I’m a little tired.”

“I don’t blame you,” I told her, wrapping my arm around her waist as we walked back towards the hotel. “Must be exhausting dealing with me all day.”

She poked me. “It is,” she teased.

We had to untangle when we got to the lobby, but I still insisted on walking Paige all the way to her room. When we reached her floor, she looked around before turning to me.

“Thanks,” she said.

I pushed back a strand of hair from her face. “For what?”

“For coming back,” she said, chewing on her lip.

My heart did that weird twisty thing, and I realized that maybe this was more than just lust. More than just a good time. It felt special. Real. Real in a way I’d never felt before.

“Good night, Paige,” I told her, leaning down and giving her a kiss. I wanted to kiss her forever, but I kept this one short and sweet. We’d both been through a lot that day. Better to end the day on a good note.

“Good night,” she whispered, her hands going to her lips as if to capture the sensation.

Warmth spread through me as she waved goodbye and went into her room. This was something different. Something new. And I liked it.