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Hanging up without waiting on his reply was bitchy, but it also felt good. He was having fun, and I needed to have fun, too. Shelby was out with Jake, as evidenced by her Facebook picture of them together at mini golf in the next town over., so I texted my only other friend in the area, a girl named Alyson who often sang the national anthem at the track.

Hey, do you want to hang out tonight?

She replied quickly. Come to Trey’s house off cty rd 80. Party!

I wasn’t known for being a party girl. But tonight, with my underage boyfriend at a bar with girls screaming his name, I figured I’d make an exception.

*

Trey Fletcher’s house was easy to find. Even though I’d never been there before, I’d heard about his parent’s mansion on the outskirts of Mixon. It was the only home on the entire county road, and it could be seen from half a mile away. Even in the dark. Trey was a local motocross racer who wasn’t very good, especially after he turned twenty-one because he chose to dedicate his talents to drinking instead of riding. He’d only managed to become somewhat well known in the motocross community because his dad was super rich. I only knew him from the track, and we weren’t exactly friends, but he’d know me if he saw me. Of course, since my dad owns the track, everyone knows me as Jim’s daughter.

Nerves had me gripping the steering wheel of my truck as I guided it into the Fletcher’s long gravel driveway. I hadn’t talked to the party host himself, and now suddenly it seemed like I should have waited for an invitation before just taking Alyson’s word for it and showing up. At some point the gravel turned into concrete, and it made a circle around a large fountain in the middle of the driveway. Past the circle was a field where everyone else was parking.

I chose a spot that seemed close enough to the driveway that no one could later block me in and checked my reflection in the tiny mirror on my visor. “Ash is partying, so you can party,” I told myself. And then I leaned back, dropping my head against the headrest because I felt stupid for talking to myself out loud.

Ironically, I showed up to this lame thing as a way to spite Ash and his new partying ways, but more than anything, I wished he were here. To avoid walking in alone, I texted Alyson, and she said she’d meet me on the front steps.

Only when I got there, no one was waiting for me. I waited around a few minutes and sent another text. When she never replied, I rang the doorbell and told myself I wasn’t nervous. Music boomed from the other side of the massive double door entrance to Trey’s house, and still, no one opened it to let me in. Maybe they couldn’t hear me and maybe I should have just let myself into this three story colonial mansion in the middle of nowhere.

Instead, I turned around and walked back toward my truck. My phone rang, only it wasn’t Alyson. It was Ash.

“Hello?” I said, trying to sound like I was having a blast, wasn’t thinking about him, and was totally unaffected by our earlier conversation. I’m not sure it came out that way.

“Hey, babe.’ Ash’s voice was soft, and the background noise was quiet. “I just wanted to make up for the talk we had earlier.”

“Oh?” I said, feeling heat rush into my cheeks.

“Yeah, you called to talk to me, and we didn’t get to talk at all. I feel shitty about it. Some forty-year-old drunk lady rushed up to me saying she knew me from the supercross races and wanted an autograph. I have decided that I am not a fan of hanging around bars with the guys. They’re all here to pick up girls, and I am definitely not.”

I felt myself melt into his honeyed voice, and as I leaned my back against the tailgate on my truck, I wished more than ever that he were here with me. “It’s fine,” I said. “Thanks, though. That kind of caught me off-guard. I’m still getting used to the idea of people knowing who you are.”

“Me too. You have no idea.” He let out a long breath and I could imagine his dark skin, eyes closed and shoulders sinking as he sighed. He’d always do that when he was frustrated about something. “So what are you up to?”

I glanced back toward the Fletcher Manor, noticing another truck pull up and park in the circle part of the driveway. I had no business being at a party with people I barely knew, and I wanted to stay up for a while talking to Ash, so I bent the truth a little bit. “Nothing. Just missing you.”

“Aww,” he said, his voice sounding sleepy. “I miss you like crazy, Hana.”

Two guys got out of the truck while three other guys climbed out of the truck bed, cartons of beer in their hands. I recognized all of them from the motocross track, although most of them were older than me. I turned to get in my truck and head home when one of them noticed me standing there.

He waved, and my heart raced, but I couldn’t hear any of it. One of the guys was advancing toward me.

“Hey, there!” he called out, stumbling as he made his way around the concrete fountain. He juggled a carton of beer in his arms, and something told me he’d already opened it. “You’re Jim’s daughter, right? Are you single?”

“Who is that?” Ash asked.

“It’s nobody.” I grabbed for my door handle but dammit, the truck was locked. I fumbled for my keys, but it was too late. I’d lied to Ash and now he got to hear it all in real time. I gave a little half-wave back and tried to book it to the door where I could close myself in the silence of the Chevy’s cab. That didn’t happen. Ash started telling me some story about the hotel’s room service just as the guy—I think his name was Gee, and I was pretty sure his dirt bike number was two-twenty-two—slapped a hand on the shiny red paint of my tailgate. “Hey, gorgeous! Don’t leave just yet! Come back to the party. Beer’s on me.”

“Party, huh?” Ash’s voice made my blood turn to ice. “Guess I’ll let you go.”

The call ended and I stared at the screen, glowing bright in the dark. “Sup?” Gee said, his grin tinged with the effects of alcohol.

“I’m not single,” I said, unlocking my truck and climbing inside without another word.

At least, I hoped I wasn’t.

Chapter 12

One freaking dinner. That’s all I got before Ash left town again without so much as a goodbye. I shouldn’t have expected it—I hardly ever got a goodbye from him now. Not unless I happened to be hanging out with Shelby when he was heading back to the airport. I hate how seeing him brings out all of these emotions in me, visceral and painful parts of my heart that I’ve tried so hard to forget about.

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