Josh shook his head. “I had no choice. It was leave or they’d press charges.”

“Yeah, well, what do you think the rest of us went through? Not everyone’s mom was cool with picking up and moving.”

Josh’s arm around me tightened. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t look back. So do this one thing, and we’ll be even. Show me how many layers of the new and improved Josh Walker I have to strip off to see who you really are, because you can fool your pretty little red-headed fiancée, here, but you can’t fool me. I know who you are in the marrow of your bones.”

“Things change.”

Evan scoffed. “People don’t.”

They stared each other down in what was probably the most uncomfortable silence I’d ever witnessed.

“One race.” Evan broke it. “Come on. No cops, no danger of getting caught, just you and me like we’re sixteen.”

“Except we’re not kids, and we have a hell of a lot more to lose,” Josh argued.

“Ha. Speak for yourself.”

“Josh,” I whispered. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t. Not something he’d left behind eight years ago. There was no chance, right? I knew him better than Evan did.

Josh’s eyes narrowed, but his concentration stayed on Evan. “One race,” he agreed.

Or maybe you don’t know him as well as you think. My blood turned to ice, freezing everything in its path to my heart.

“For the bike?” Evan asked.

“For the bike,” Josh agreed.

Josh dropped his arm from around me to shake on their ridiculous deal, and then Evan walked away, announcing that they’d race.

Josh turned his back on the group, taking a deep breath and putting his hands on his head. I willed my limbs to move, my mouth to speak, but nothing functioned.

“Ember?” he asked, then touched my shoulder. When I didn’t turn, he took my hand and guided me back to the Ducati, far enough to have some space from the crowd. “Babe, it’s just a stupid race. It’ll take maybe five minutes.”

My frozen blood flash-boiled. “Five minutes. That’s not so bad. I mean, what, that’s about the time it takes to crash a helicopter, right?”

He stepped back like I’d slapped him. “Not fair.”

“Not fair? What’s not fair is you almost dying a month ago. What’s not fair is burying our friend. You choosing to hurl your body down a concrete strip for the sheer fun of it? That’s just fucking stupid.”

His jaw flexed. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Good, because there’s no way that’s going to happen. Damn it, Josh! You’re twenty-five, not seventeen!” My fingers bit into my palms.

He put on his jacket and zipped it up before taking my face in his hands. “This is who I am. Hockey, motorcycles, flying. You’ve always known it. Please don’t act like you didn’t.”

Wasn’t he right? Josh, at his core, was always going to push the envelope, always going to seek the thrill that lay just past the safe zone. It was what had drawn me to him in the first place.

“Please don’t do this,” I begged shamelessly.

He flinched. “December.”

“I will do anything you want if you just walk away from this right now.”

An engine revved in the background, and he looked over my shoulder. “I have to go.”

“No, you’re choosing to go. Make no mistake about that.”

He sighed, and then brushed a quick kiss on my lips. “You know me better than that. I love you.”

“I’ll take care of her,” a leggy brunette said, rubbing her hand on Josh’s shoulder.

Josh startled. “Simone.”

She flashed him a smile. “Just like old times, huh?”

That look on her face said their version of “old times” hadn’t just been street-racing. My stomach turned over. God, this was college all over.

No, it’s not. Don’t give in to that kind of drama.

“If you mean Evan pulling me into shit I have no business being in, then yeah, kind of.” He looked back to me, his gaze softening. “Ember, Simone will take you to watch.”

“I don’t want to watch,” I said through my teeth.

“Five minutes,” he pled.

I shook my head, stepping out of his hands. “Ridiculous.”

“I love you.” He buckled his helmet and drove the Ducati over to the starting line, where Evan was already waiting.

“Let’s go, princess,” Simone said, leading me to a tall dais. I climbed the ladder, cursing Josh with every rung until I stood on the top, at least six feet off the ground. A few bikes took off to watch the finish line, while others lined up along the route.

I had half a mind to leave, but what the hell was I going to do, call an Uber driver to the middle-of-nowhere, illegal racing strip? I didn’t know a single soul other than Josh, or even have the slightest idea of how to get back to Winslow.

“Uncomfortable?” Simone asked, leaning on the metal railing so far that her ass nearly hung out of her short leather skirt.

“Just a little out of my element,” I admitted, resting my elbows on the rounded metal. Josh and Evan waited about fifteen feet ahead, both talking to Samuel and nodding at intervals.

“Yeah, well, I never thought he’d end up with someone like you,” she muttered.

Hell no. “Josh left here eight years ago. Please don’t act like you still know him.”