Page 57 of Phillip

“Do I know I do what?” he growled. The engine roared as though he’d taken off again.

Her heart raced. Anger climbed into her throat. “This.” She threw her hand across the interior of the car. “You create distractions. You speed up when you should slow down. You—”

“You have no idea—”

She grasped his forearm and shook him, screaming as loud as she could. When the screech stopped, her throat ached. His eyes were wide, shocked, but she had his undivided attention, even if her voice was gone.

Ashley swallowed, and it hurt. Her fingers loosened on his arm, but she wouldn’t let go. “I didn’t know anything about Mother and Sean that was worth a conversation,” she whispered. “Much less an argument.”

He faced out his window and stared blindly ahead. Fury radiated in his profile, and still she didn’t let go.

“I need you to believe me.”

“I believed you once before.” Hurt replaced his anger. “Why should I believe you now?”

The past had come back to haunt her, and she could offer nothing that she hadn’t said before. “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The drive to Ashley’s beach house was a quiet one. The short distance seemed to take hours to navigate while simultaneously ending before Phillip had come up with a single thing to say. Ashley preoccupied herself with her phone as it dinged with texts and emails.

Her home looked the same as it had the night before, cloaked in darkness but with several windows illuminated. He parked, torn between the urge to help her out of the sports car and the wish that she would disappear.

Her hand rested on the door lever. “Not that this is what you want to hear, but we have a lunch meeting tomorrow with Sean. Whether you want to go or not, I’ll text you the details. Don’t decide right now.” Then she opened her door, got out, and melted into the darkness.

He waited until a slice of light from the front door illuminated and swallowed her into the big home.

Like hell would he meet with Sean Paget. Phillip shifted the Porsche into gear and crawled from her house. He stayed in first gear, willing himself to push the sports car until the motor offered a high-performance escape, but a hollowness in his gut made the effort too exhausting.

Calling Ross or Brock should have been first on Phillip’s to-do list. But thinking about the car show or expectations made the crushing weight of their fight heavier.

Phillip drove aimlessly until he pulled into Harbor Park. It was closed to the public at dark, but he didn’t care and exited his car as pointlessly as he had driven there.

Ashley had said that he sped up when he should have slowed down. Hell, he couldn’t walk any slower if he tried. Phillip dropped onto a bench that lined the running path. He leaned back. The sea of stars overhead trumped any view at home in DC, where city lights dulled the night’s carpet of stars.

But even the King Harbor sky didn’t come close to how the stars shined at Camp Sunshine. He’d promised her they would visit again, and his heart hurt that maybe they wouldn’t. Bringing her to his camp hadn’t been his intention. The trip to Bliss had been more than enough. But he couldn’t stop himself from sharing his special retreat.

At least he hadn’t told her that was where he’d disappeared to after they broke up. He’d sat in the same Adirondack chair when the idea of his camp and nonprofit had surfaced in his mind.

He hadn’t recalled that night in so long, when he’d been lost and decided he would help kids like him from feeling this lonely pain.

The Ferrari 330 GT drifted to mind. His thoughts were on a miserable roll. Phillip dropped his head, hating to lose that car. Would it matter if he could just keep the memory? Even now he could feel the sleek metal frame glide under his palms the morning his dad had brought him into the garage.

Dad smiled proudly. “It’s yours.”

Phillip’s heart leaped. “Really? No way! You’re going to let me drive it?” That was the most important question his young brain could manage.

Dad’s laughter rumbled. “In a few years.” Then he leaned close and whispered, “Or maybe sooner if your mom says it’s okay.”

Phillip jumped and punched the air with his fists. “She will. I’m sure she will,” he nearly shouted, wanting to run to his mom and ask right then. But Phillip stayed put and watched his dad, understanding that this was a moment to share between them.

Dad eased into the passenger seat. His look said a lecture was imminent, but Phillip didn’t care, as long as he would get it while sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Get in, Son.”

Phillip climbed in and rested his hands on the steering wheel. His feet didn’t reach the pedals, but they would one day. He beamed at his father, resting his hand on the gearshift, ready for any conversation.

“I gave this to you earlier than I intended,” Dad said.

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