Page 51 of Speeding Hearts

“No,” I said. “I have to go.”

Before anyone could say a word, I grabbed my jacket—too warm for the summer evening and nothing but a stupid affectation now—and headed for the door. I would have sprinted there if it weren’t for the ridiculous high heels on my feet. I stumbled out of the noisy bar and onto the street, breathing in the cool night air.

I should never have come. I should have stayed in the trailer like I’d planned, had my little glass of champagne, and contemplated my next move.

Instead, I stormed to the parking lot, furious and on the brink of tears. I was pissed at Dean, not just for being here and talking to Victoria, but for pulling an absolute vanishing act over the last two weeks after we got together. For telling me our friendship was everything to him and then throwing it under the bus when we made the mistake of falling into bed together.

It hadn’t been just me who’d wanted it, though. He’d wanted it too—Iknewhe had.

But mostly, I was furious at myself. I’d fallen into a trap of my own making.

I shouldn’t have come to this bar, but I really shouldn’t have come to Oak Bend in the first place. I’d followed Dean here, and pathetically, it was because I’d been falling for him back home and hadn’t known how to handle it. I should have been glad when he left Jewel Lakes, leaving me free from the confusing entanglements of feeling more than passing lust for someone. Instead, I’d felt ripped apart. I’d said it was losing my best friend, and it was, but I knew now it was more than that.

I jammed my key into the ignition, needing to put as much space between me and this bar as I could, fast.

The key did nothing. The engine made a grinding noise, then all the lights came on the dash.

For fuck’s sake. I’d been paying so little attention to the rest of my life I’d forgotten to follow up on the repairs I’d slapped onto this stupid old car. I tried the key again, but the same thing happened.

“Goddammit!” I screamed, slamming my hands on the wheel. I slammed them again and again, tears streaming down my face.

Then, there was a knock on the window.

I jumped, horrified someone was seeing me in this state.

Not someone. Dean.

New fury burned through me. It was his fault I was this mad. His fault, somehow, that my car didn’t work and I was stuck here in this stupid dress, which I knew I’d worn because of him. To make myself feel better as my heart ached for him.

I swung the door open and got out.

“Go to hell, Dean,” I said, slamming my door behind me. “Go to goddamned—”

But before I could finish the sentence, Dean shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. His face was such a picture of pain that my anger shifted instantly. Not gone, but dialed back from red.

“Why are you here?” I said, my voice hard.

“I saw you running out.”

“No, why are you at the bar? Why weren’t you at the race?”

Dean hesitated. His eyes shifted sideways.

Then it clicked.

“Youwerethere,” I said. The sharp edge of my anger fell back. He’d known what was going on the whole time. He’d seen my texts.

“I’m sorry, Stella” he said, his eyes not meeting mine. He ran a hand over his shorn head. “I fucked everything up.”

I didn’t say anything, waiting.

Finally, he looked up at me, his face stricken with something like agony.

Then his eyes dropped, roving for the briefest moment over my body. I felt his gaze as keenly as if he’d touched me.

And my body responded.

I tried to fight it, but it was too strong. Primal. Heat curled low in my abdomen, intensifying as his eyes touched every part of me.

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