The next morning, I’m awake when my three-thirty alarm goes off. Awake because I’ve spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about what Slater told me at the field house. Realization and truth can be a shitty thing, and I’ve been hit in the face with it.

For so long I’ve convinced myself that I made the right decision back then. That no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much I second-guessed it, it was the right thing to do.

After hearing him talk about it yesterday? Mistake is the word banging around in my head like the ball of a pinball machine.

“Get your shit together, Malone.” I drag ass out of bed, before going to the bathroom.

Same routine as yesterday, and I realize this is what my life has turned into. The same shit, day in and day out. Yeah, back in California I did it in a nicer living space, with a manicure, and more spending money. This morning though, I’m knocked over the head with some truth.

Since the moment I left Willow’s Gap, I’ve been trying to outrun the what could have been’s and the what if’s. That’s more evident to me now than anything ever has been. Purposely I set forth on a path that would take me as far away from Slater as I could get. I always flew through the channels on TV that might be talking about him, always avoided sports websites, sections of the paper that would allow me a glimpse into his life. The few times I allowed myself to look, it was only because other people in the office were talking about him. The day I learned he got hurt? I almost tried to get in touch with him. Even after all these years, I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.

This morning as I drive to the bakery, I’m not blaring music, I don’t have the windows down, and I’m not looking forward to the day ahead of me. If I didn’t need the money and didn’t take pride in a job well done, I honestly would have called in. My head isn’t where it should be, and because of that, I don’t see the board in the middle of the road until it’s already too late.

“Son of a bitch,” I scream in frustration as I run over it. Immediately I know I’ve popped a tire by the way my car veers, and then the light on the dashboard shows low pressure almost immediately. This is exactly what I don’t need in my life right now, but life has its own agenda.

I’m able to coast to the side of the road and put my hazards on, but now I’m at a loss for what to do. And I’m realizing just how alone I am.

It’s dark here, pitch black, with only the stars to guide my way. There’s no big city lights, no other cars out on the road, I feel like I’m easy pickings for anyone who comes along, and it’s the end of the world. Fear isn’t something I’ve felt since I came here, but here unprotected like this, I feel a fear like I haven’t felt before.

There’s no AAA, and I don’t want to wake my parents up with a phone call from me at almost four in the morning. They’ll think something awful has happened, and I’d prefer not to give them that heart attack.

There’s another person though, one who’s always been there for me, but I hesitate to contact him after what went on last night. In the end, fear wins out, and I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending a text that I have a feeling will change the trajectory of my life.

Sleep hasn’t been easy in coming. I’ve never been good at fighting with Malone. Fuck, the first real fight we ever had, we walked away from one another. There’s a part of me that doesn’t know exactly what that says about us. Maybe we’re both too hot-headed, maybe we both expect way more out of each other than the other can give.

And then there’s the little problem of the hard dick I’ve been fighting since that almost-kiss in the field house. Nobody has ever turned me on the way she has. I’ve been with models, a playmate, and I even dated an actress once. No one in the world affects me the way Malone Fulcher does. For the past hour, as I’ve seen the clock turn from three to four, I’ve debated jerking it, just to get it over with, just to feel the sexual release I haven’t felt in far too long. But I don’t want that. I want her, I want her body under mine, over mine - it doesn’t matter. The little taste of her I had? It’s made me want her more than ever, and I know I won’t be satisfied until I get her.

On the bedside table, my phone buzzes. It’s not unusual for someone to be contacting me at weird hours of the day, but I have it in Do Not Disturb mode, which means it’s someone I care about. Rolling over, I grab it, rubbing the grit of no sleep from my eyes, and use my thumbprint to access the info.

EF: Hey, I hate to bother you, but are you awake?

After the way we left things, I know Malone isn’t texting me because she wants to. Something is going on and she has to, I feel that in my gut.

S: I am, are you okay?

EF: I ran over a board on the road that had a nail or something in it. I have a flat.

S: I know you know how to change a flat.

It was something I’d taught her when we first started dating.

EF: I do, but I don’t have a spare or a donut. Driving cross-country really does a number on your options. I don’t have AAA, but I don’t know who to call. I was hoping you could help me out. I’m over on Burning Creek Road.

S: Sit tight, I’ll be there in a minute.

Little dots are flying quickly across the screen.

EF: No! I don’t want you to have to come out or anything. Can just tell me who to call?

Like fuck I’m gonna leave her sitting on the side of the road at four a.m. I’m already out of bed, putting my clothes on.

S: Don’t argue with me about it. I’ll be there in a few with someone to help you. Lock your doors. I don’t think anyone would hurt you, but be as safe as you can.

If there’s one person I can still count on in this town, it’s Nash Gilbert. His family owns the local garage in town, and after his wife was killed in an accident, I know he’s up all hours. When I dial the number, I know without a doubt he’ll answer. His voice isn’t even sleepy when I hear it on the other end of the line.

“Slater, you good?”

The way he answers brings a smile to my face. Makes me feel not so alone here in this town.

“I’m good, but Malone’s got a flat tire. Was wondering if you could help.”

“No problem. Where is she?”

“She said Burning Creek,” I relay the information she’s given me. “I’ll meet you out there,” I tell him as I start to get my shoes on.

“It’ll take me about thirty minutes to get everything together, but I’ll be there ASAP.”

We hang up and I quickly text Malone, letting her know help is on the way. As I carefully walk down the steps of my apartment, I think about how maybe this is a chance for both of us to put aside the words we spoke last night and try to be friends.

Nash was right, I do beat him there. Parking behind her car, I turn my lights off and get out, walking over to where she sits. She gets out, meeting me halfway in between my SUV and her car.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” She pushes her hair behind her ears.

“There’s no way I could have left you out here by yourself.”

“I told you I would have been fine, as long as I knew someone was coming. I can take care of myself.”

She tilts her head to the side, pursing her lips together, and in the moonlight, something catches. A tiny diamond twinkles in the side of her nose.

“When did you get your nose pierced?”

This woman in some ways is so like the girl I used to know, I feel like we’ve just taken a hiatus and picked right back up. Other ways she’s completely different, and I’m loving learning what those differences are.

“A couple years ago.” She shrugs. “I’ve had it out the past few times you’ve seen me.”

“Guess we both like body modification.” I grin at her.

“You talking about those tattoos?”

“Yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest as I watch her against the inky sky of the early morning. “Why can we talk like this right now, but we were rude to each other earlier?”

She crosses her own arms, looks down at her feet before she blows out a breath and looks back up at me. “Maybe we got most of the fight out of ourselves yesterday. I don’t wanna fight with you, Slade, I never have.”

Reaching out, I risk cupping my palm against the pulse of her neck. It’s a gamble, she may pull back, she may tell me to go fuck myself, but either way I want to feel her skin against mine.

“How do you know about my other tattoos?” I didn’t have all of them when we were together before. Only a couple of small ones.

“Caught a glimpse yesterday and did a quick internet search. Women are obsessed with them.”

“Could you be?” is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Why do I keep flirting with her when I know it’s probably not going to go anywhere?

She opens her mouth to answer, but we’re interrupted by the bright lights of a wrecker. Looks like Nash is here to save the day.