Chapter 1
My boyfriend's little spitfire, Flora Dodd lost her temper again.
She had lost ninety-nine races to me.
On the hundredth race, my boyfriend asked me to let her win.
I replied, "Why should I?"
But when the race started, my car, checked dozens of times before, suddenly blew a tire and flipped.
Flora crossed the finish line first and waved her gold medal in front of my ambulance.
His friends cheered, saying, "He really went all out for his beauty! If Clint hadn't tampered with the wheels, Flora would've cried again."
Clint smiled and handed Flora the limited-edition Rolls-Royce I had wanted for so long.
He looked at me. "The winner takes precedence. You don't mind, do you?"
I dragged my broken leg to the car and smashed the windshield with a wrench.
Then I smiled at him. "I don't mind."
*****
As the wrench smashed through the windshield, Flora Dodd's scream from the driver's seat was cut short as Clint Springer shielded her with his body.
Shards pierced deep into Clint's back, and Flora hurried to press her handkerchief against the bleeding scrapes on his face.
"Clint!" Flora cried, panic in her voice.
The sharp pain made Clint frown, but he quickly managed a gentle smile.
Clint asked softly, "You're not scared, are you?"
His eyes darted to Flora's hand, and his face changed in a flash. He grabbed her hand, brows knitting tight.
It was a small scrape on her hand.
"Ambulance! Now!" Clint barked.
He lifted Flora into the ambulance, the one that had come for me.
He turned and locked eyes with me.
My leg was ripped open, flesh exposed and blood everywhere, pooling beneath me as I leaned against the hood to catch my breath.
"If I hadn't reacted in time, would you have killed her?" Clint shot at me, eyes accusing.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg, I tossed the wrench to the ground.
"You're the one playing dirty. What gives you the right to judge me?" I shot back.
Clint's eyes, always so warm for me, suddenly looked like they'd been dipped in ice.
My eyes burned with tears.
He used to hold me tight whenever I got hurt, shielding me from every storm that came my way.
But now, he looked at me like I was nobody to him.
When did everything start to go wrong?
My eyes drifted to Flora in the ambulance.
It all changed the moment she came into the picture.
*****
"Yes, I'm planning to study abroad. I'm not going to marry Clint," I said calmly.
Clint's parents, Darren and Cathy exchanged a glance.
"Why? Don't you like Clint the most?" they asked.
"I did," I answered.
Back when my parents died, I was so out of my mind with grief that I just wanted to end it all.
It was Clint who stood between me and the cliff, pulling me into a fierce embrace to stop me.
He said, "I'll drive you across. If we make it, you have to promise me you'll never try to end your life again. If we don't, I'll die with you."
That day, our car raced over the valley, flying over the two cliffs.
The fierce wind whipped through my hair, and it chilled me to the bone.
We made it out alive.
From that day on, I strapped on my helmet and slid into the driver's seat of my race car.
I took the world championship by storm, raising my gold medal high and shouting to the crowd, "I, Jillian Griggs, will marry no one but Clint Springer in this lifetime!"
Back then, he'd smile at me, his eyes full of nothing but tenderness and adoration.
But it changed when Flora showed up by his side.
He let her ride shotgun in his favorite car, raced her down the death road, took her flying over canyons, doing all the wild stunts that used to be ours alone.
He always called her his spitfire.
Looking at Darren and Cathy, I bowed.
"I'm sorry for being so immature before. Thank you for taking care of me after my parents passed away," I said.
Cathy hurriedly reached out to stop me.
"Jillian, couples fight all the time. Just think it over. Clint still loves you," she said.
I smiled and shook my head. "That's not true."
With Darren and Cathy still looking confused and lost, I made my way home.
A bitter, self-mocking smile tugged at my lips.
See? Like I said, it wasn't true.
I knocked on the door, and Clint turned around with a startled look.
Caught with his mind on another woman, he didn't even flinch. There was no shame, no regret in his eyes.
His voice came out cold. "Got something to say?"
"Are you done?" I asked.
He pushed the door open and walked out without saying a word.
"Hey," I called after him, stopping him in his tracks. "I'm handing you over to her."
He stopped in his tracks. "Don't joke about that."
I was puzzled.
Clint was always the kind of guy who went after what he wanted without a second thought. So why was he suddenly holding back now?
"Oh, right." He reached the bedroom door, then turned around as if he just remembered something. "What kind of wedding do you want?"
"For traditional kind," I replied.
"Alright," he said.
He nodded, and I hurriedly asked, "Why are you asking me that?"
"Obviously, to marry you," he replied.
I stood there, stunned.
Ever since Flora showed up, I'd tried to remind him, sometimes straight up, sometimes dropping hints, but he always brushed the wedding off.
Why was he suddenly bringing up marriage now?
"I promised you I'd marry you. I always keep my word," he said.
With that, he walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
My heart skipped a beat.
Back when I shouted to the world that I'd marry no one but Clint, he was there in the crowd, watching me with that soft look in his eyes, and answered, "Yeah. In this lifetime, it's you and no one else for me."