With Grady not in my face, my pulse began to slow until I thought of Colton and wondered where he had gone when he tore out of his driveway. He probably had a girlfriend. Or maybe he was going to see Amanda. After all, they’d seemed chummy at lunch.
I killed the music and pulled out my earbuds as I darted into a shopping center, a shortcut to Georgia’s house. I paid attention to traffic. I didn’t need another mishap.
Once on the other side, the coast was clear, devoid of any cars.
When I reached Crane Plantation, I hopped off my board, admiring the manicured shrubs and flowers in front of the brick walls on either side of the entrance. It was a ritual for me whenever I went to Georgia’s. In a way, I felt like Mom was there with me. She’d been on the homeowner’s association when we lived a block down from Georgia and had always made sure that the gold-plated name tacked to the brick wall had been spit-shined and glistened.
I briefly closed my eyes, inhaled the salt air—the ocean wasn’t far from there—collected my skateboard, then headed into the upscale property. In addition to the beautiful homes, the place boasted a golf course, a recreation area with a pool, tennis courts, and a small park.
I walked by Craftsman-style homes and brick mansions with columns and large porticos that fit in with the Southern charm. When I reached Pony Circle, my pulse quickened as it always did when I went to see Georgia.
A nice couple from the North had purchased Mom’s dream home on that street. I inhaled deeply as I made the turn onto Pony Circle, pushing down the memories of days long past. But it was useless when the bluish-green siding with high-angled peaks came into view.
I skidded to a halt when I laid eyes on a For Sale sign, my memories vanishing as my heart raced. I wasn’t sure why. It was just a stupid sign. I really wished Dad could afford to buy the house back. That thought evaporated when I zeroed in on the two cars in the driveway and gasped. Sure, a family lived there, but Colton Caldwell sure as heck didn’t. I knew his truck well and not because he’d hit me with it. I knew his license plate. Yep, I had the darn thing memorized. Then again, it was rather easy to remember when “Hang Ten” was stamped on it.
I riffled through my brain, digging deep into why he would be sitting in my old driveway of all places. If the same family we’d sold the place to still lived there, then the children were definitely not of age to date. But my answer came swiftly when Amanda fucking Gelling glided ethereally out the front door with her auburn hair flowing behind her, tanned legs that I was jealous of, and a flirty smile that screamed she was getting laid or something. That last part made me clench my hands into fists.
She bounced up to the passenger window of Colton’s truck. I suddenly hated Amanda more than even when Colton was whispering in her ear or had his hand on her lower back like she was his pride and joy.
“Amanda,” an older version of Amanda called as she came out with her Louis Vuitton bag and gold-rimmed sunglasses that probably cost more than the Toyota I drove. “My clients are going to be late.”
Amanda stuck her hands on her hips. “I got things to do, Mom.”
Her mom owned Gelling and Associates, one of the top real estate companies in town, as the For Sale sign announced.
I growled under my breath as Amanda said something to her mom before she jumped into Colton’s truck.
I should leave before they see me, or Colton might think I’m stalking him. I placed my skateboard down and was about to get on it when the universe stepped in. My board sailed right toward Colton’s truck as he was backing onto the street.
The word “fuck” dropped from my lips, and not because he or Amanda would notice me, but my board was about to get smashed. I couldn’t lose my one outlet, the one salvation that kept my demons at bay. Sure, I could buy a new one when money wasn’t so tight. But even so, I didn’t want a new one. That skateboard was a gift from Dad. I had to cherish it forever.
I ran like I was about to save a person from getting hit by a car, the word “idiot” coming to mind. I couldn’t tell if Colton could see me or not. His back window was lightly tinted.
My horror-movie scream fell on deaf ears as Colton ran over my board.
Well, fuck.
The truck stopped, as did my heart. Colton got out and darted to his tailgate. He glanced at his tire before those molten-brown eyes drank me in. “Skyler? What in the world?”
Amanda graced us with her presence. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Ignoring the bitch, I grabbed my mangled board. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad, but one of the front wheels was bent. Inwardly, I yelled at myself. I usually wasn’t an airhead. It was all Colton’s fault. He was making my mind a glob of goo.
“Skyler,” Colton said in that Southern drawl that made my goose bumps fire to life.
Damn him. My pride was as crumpled as my board. I couldn’t deal with him, and especially not Amanda or both of them together. Shaking my head, I walked away. Otherwise I would punch the smug look off Amanda’s delicate face or say something I would regret. Above all else, I was ready to burst into tears.
“Wait,” Colton said in a loud, deep, and dreamy voice.
Keep walking, Skyler.
“Leave her.” Amanda’s voice was like that cringy sound of nails on a chalkboard. “We’re going to be late.”
“Skyler,” Colton called again. “At least let me give you a ride home.”
I was not getting into Colton’s truck, not with
