Page 62 of Shallow

“Okay, fine. Yes, but you’re making a bigger deal out of it than itis.”

“You don’t think drugs are a big deal?” Noticing the keys balled in my fist, he moves closer and blocks me against the bushes. “Where do you think you’regoing?”

“To clear myhead.”

The muscles in his jaw pulse with anger. “No, I won’t let you go out likethis.”

“You won’t let me?” I repeat the words slowly, enunciating each one. “You have no right to tell me what to do. You cut my grass. That’s all.” I can tell I’ve hit a nerve, because a tremor travels up hisarm.

“Regardless of what has happened, you’re still my friend, Shiloh. I can’t stand by and watch you put your life indanger.”

Friend. The word makes me laugh. Friendship is a two-way street, not a one-way undergroundtunnel.

“I don’t have friends, Carrick. I have followers. Are you a follower? Because if you are, then know your role and get the hell out of myway.”

I expect him to leave. Instead, he smiles. The asshole actually fuckingsmiles.

“You can play the badass queen act all you want, but I know why you push me away when you don’t want to. I know yoursecret.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “This should begood.”

He bends forward so that our noses almost touch. “You’ve let me see the real you and that terrifiesyou.”

Music coming from inside my house breaks the hypnotic spell Carrick’s words have me under, reminding me why I can’t believethem.

“I’m not terrified, Carrick. I’m a realist. A star rises only if there’s enough hands pushing it to the top. One isn’tenough.”

Jerking out of his hold, I run to my car without looking back, tears pooling in my eyes again. I barely get the key in the ignition when the passenger’s side door swings open, and Carrick slides in besideme.

“What the hell do you think you’redoing?”

“I told you I’m not going to let you go out like this. So, if you go, Igo.”

“You’reinsane.”

“There are two people in this car, and only one has her hand on the key. You still want to make thatassumption?”

“I’m leaving here, Carrick. You need to get out now. Lastchance.”

We stare each other down, blue eyes to gray ones, neither of us willing to give an inch. My fingers twitch on the ignition, and he reaches for the seatbelt beside him, clicking it into place without breaking ourconnection.

“Fine,” I mutter, turning the ignition as my ridiculously expensive graduation present hums to life. “But don’t say I didn’t warnyou.”

We ride in silence, so much to be said, yet neither of us has the words to know where to begin. I’m an emotional wreck, and he wants something that can never be. So I drive aimlessly with no destination in mind, letting the radio speak for us. Not even two miles down the road, Carrick’s words replay in my head. Their impact causes more tears to erupt, blurring my vision and distracting me so much I cross the double yellow line into oncomingtraffic.

“Shiloh, watch thelines!”

Panicking, I jerk the wheel to the right. As the back end of my Mercedes swings around and spins, two things happen. I turn my head to see Carrick reach for me, and I see the flashing bluelights.

Eventually the car stops as we slam into a stop sign. Before I can comprehend what just happened, Carrick unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches across the console, caressing my cheek. “Shy, can you move? God, are youhurt?”

I shake my head. I expect something to be broken since the airbags didn’t deploy, but I’m fine. “I told you not to come with me,” I whisper as his hand cradles the back of myhead.

His lips curve downward. “You still don’t get it, do you? Whether you want me to or not, I’ll always be there to catch you when youfall.”

I stare into his eyes, waiting for the “but” that always follows a statement like that. However, it nevercomes.

But the policedo.