I’m sitting in a car right now. It might be a 2015 Alfa Romeo, but it’s still just a car. Like any other car, it needs gas, and regular oil changes. Sometimes it needs to get taken in for a tune-up, or for new breaks. It’s just a really really really nice car, but nothing more. That was good. That was something she could hang onto, something to calm her racing thoughts. And I’m sitting in this car next to a guy. He’s just a guy. Yes, he’s Chase Winters, the number-one draft pick and first-string quarterback of the New England Nationals. Sure, he’s handsome and sexy and every woman wants him and most men want to share a beer with him—and yes, almost every guy wishes they could be like him. But at the end of the day, Chase Winters is only a regular old human being. But as much as she tried to tell herself these things, Faith’s ability to believe them was faltering. Because right now, she was sitting in this insanely expensive sports car as Chase Winters drove through the streets of Boston.
