My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel. I had no idea where I was going. Burton was surrounded by two-lane roads that led north to South Carolina, west toward Macon, east to Savannah and south to Florida. I wasn’t sure which one I was driving on at the moment, but I knew eventually I’d have to stop and figure it out. The only important information right now was that I was driving away from Sam Reynolds. Even thinking his name wrenched another sob from my throat. I thought I’d been mad and hurt that day at Boomer’s, but I hadn’t really known Sam then. He’d been a virtual stranger making judgments on me, which was annoying and infuriating. But over the last weeks, Sam and I had opened up and gotten to know each other. Our porch talks had been surprisingly intimate, and especially after last night, when it seemed we’d come to some kind of understanding about this irresistible pull between the two of us. I didn’t have any idea that Ali was going to tease him about what had happened last night at the Road Block.
