I’m thinking of exactly what I’ll say to Bayleigh’s grandparents when they open the door. If it’s her grandmother, she’ll probably be lenient and let me see Bayleigh for a little while. If it’s Ed, I might be screwed, but I’ll ask to talk to her on the porch.

As I drive past her house, I notice that Ed’s Ford truck isn’t in the driveway, but another car I’ve never seen is there. That’s odd. Hopefully she’s still home. I pull into my driveway and cut the engine. That’s when I see it.

Her porch light is on, and Bayleigh’s standing there on the porch, facing someone who sits on the porch swing. Her arms are on her hips and she’s standing like she’s kind of hostile. I get out of my car and walk over to the passenger seat where I’ve set the rose to make sure it didn’t get messed up. I close the door and look over at her house, wondering if I should wait until her visitor is gone before I go over there. Then whoever is on the porch stands up and he’s shouting something.

He steps into the porch light and throws a punch at a wooden post. “You need to learn to let shit go,” he says.

Oh hell no.

I walk straight over there, rose in one hand and my car keys in the other. I shove the keys in my pocket and some tall skinny douchebag says, “Who the fuck is that?”

Bayleigh turns around, her eyes wide.

The guy, who I’m guessing is the idiot who got her grounded, walks to the end of the porch and glares daggers at me. Too bad he’s not the least bit intimidating. “Bro, this has nothing to do with you,” he says, holding out a hand as if his scrawny hand will actually stop me.

I step up on the porch, putting myself between her and this idiot. “It is my business if you're yelling at Bayleigh.”

“Like hell it is,” he says in this way that’s trying to be all badass.

I ignore him and turn to Bayleigh. “For you,” I say, handing her the rose. Even in the dim lighting I can see she’s both terrified and blushing at the same time. I wink at her.

The douchebag shifts on his feet. “What the fuck is this? You’re gone two weeks and you replace me with this dipshit?”

“I'm guessing you're Ian,” I say.

He glares at Bayleigh and then looks at me. “If you know who I am then you know you need to leave now.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and lean against the wall. “If you'd like directions back to the interstate, I'd be happy to help you out.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I'm afraid you are.”

Ian scowls then grabs Bayleigh’s arm and tries pulling her to the other side of the porch. “Tell him I'm not going anywhere.”

I let him do it, because it only fuels my anger right now. Bayleigh pulls out of his grip, her gaze going to the flower in her hand. “I’m sorry,” she tells him, but she doesn’t sound very sorry. “I think you need to go.”

Ian is now so pissed he looks like he’s going to burst into flames. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my lips. There’s no better way to win over a girl than by having her choose you. I’m not going to fight this idiot. I’m just going to stand here, leaning against the house, and wait for him to realize I’m the better man.

“Fuck both of you,” Ian says as he steps off the porch and heads toward his car. “Don't bother calling me when you get home, Bayleigh.” She doesn’t say anything. He spits on the ground. “It's my fault for dealing with some whore still in high school.”

Yeah, okay. That’s where I draw the line.

I jump off the porch and grab his shoulder, turning him around so he can see what’s coming to him. His eyes widen in horror. I’m just about to knock his fucking lights out when Bayleigh yells my name and grabs my arm.

I look at her and she’s panting, her eyes wide, her hand holding my arm back. “Please don’t,” she whispers. Her eyes plead with me, and at first I think she’s trying to save this bastard. But then I realize she’s trying to save me. I don’t need another assault charge and this guy looks like the kind of scum who would call the cops on me.

“Come on, Bayleigh,” I say, linking my fingers into hers. “He isn’t worth it.”

While Ian curses and gets into his car, I take her inside. I walk her up the stairs and into her room, where she collapses on her bed, burying her head in her pillow. I sit next to her.

“I had no idea he was going to show up like that,” she says after her tears have stopped.

I run a hand over her hair. “I figured as much when I heard him yelling at you.”

She turns over, shifting onto her back. I lie down next to her and reach for her hand, pulling it to my chest.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she says.

“Why?” I ask. I turn sideways to look at her.

“Because you're leaving. Because holding my hand is a pointless comfort right now. It means nothing.”

“It doesn't mean nothing to me.”

She pulls her hand away. “You can't hold my hand, Jace. You can't kiss me and you can't bring me flowers. Because pretty soon you're leaving forever and I'll never see you again and it'll be the most pointless summer of my life.”

I can’t help it. I start laughing. She punches me in the arm and then I sit up and pull her into a sitting position next to me. “Bayleigh, Bayleigh, Bayleigh,” I say, taking her face in my hands. “I have something exciting to tell you.”

“Exciting for you, maybe.” She pouts and looks away.

“Exciting for both of us,” I say, trailing my hands down her arms until her fingers link into mine. “I just got back from Mixon Motocross Park.”

“Okay….” She says, sounding less than excited.

“The owner offered me a job. My own motocross school—giving lessons and stuff at his track. It pays a lot of money and it's the perfect alternative since I can't race professionally anymore.”

She bites her lip. “Where did you say this track is located?”

I smile because the GPS has already told me all I need to know. “About thirty minutes from your hometown.”

Her eyebrows narrow. “What are you saying?”

I lean forward and place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I'm staying in Texas. I'm going to move to Mixon and work there. I'm not going back to LA.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is a whisper, her eyes soft.

I nod.  “I have nothing in LA worth going back for. Here, I have you.”

Her hesitant expression turns into a grin. I squeeze her hands and say, “That is, of course, if you'll be my girlfriend.”