Page 71 of How to Date a Prince

The first hedgerow comes, and it’s a beast. Midnight takes the jump, ears forward, like the star he is. There’s some commotion behind me, and I don’t dare turn to see what’s happened.

Beside me is Thomas, so close I could reach out and touch him.

Wilson and Connor are right on our heels. Then, a loose horse passes them, now running alongside me and Thomas. It’s terrifying because it’s totally unpredictable what the horse might do without a rider. I try to figure out whose horse it is, and I hope the rider’s okay.

We’re all over the second fence like one, a tight pack. At fence three, the loose horse cuts in front of me, and I ease up right away. “Motherfucker!”

I don’t care about Gisele’s rules right now. My horse whinnies, and we barely avoid disaster. Thomas shouts behind me. By the time we reach the fourth hedgerow, we’ve lost the loose horse. Connor’s edged ahead of me in the chaos. Wilson’s beside me, and he leans to whip at my legs, the arsehole.

“Fuck off,” I yell with searing pain, urging my horse on.

And then we’re truly racing, overtaking Connor, who swears with surprise as we come up on either side of him, right on the heels of Thomas’ horse. His mount’s horseshoes flash silver in the sun as chunks of earth fly.

It’s a blistering pace. We’re riding like our lives depend on it, my heart pounding in my ears. Then, Wilson’s eating my dust, the arsehole. And it feels so sweet.

Now, I’m neck and neck with Thomas as we soar over the next hedgerow.

And this is heaven, the high of the competition under the fierce sun and the relentless thunder of hooves that I live for.

Except then Wilson’s crowding up on us as the track curves over the next fence and hedge.

“Back off!” Thomas yells at Wilson, the world screaming past us under the thunder of hooves.

Wilson tries to take my lead by crowding me out, cutting me off as our horse’s flanks press together again.

“Are you fucking mad—” I shout at Wilson. “Back off!”

Which is when Thomas’ horse spooks at the sight of the next jump as we close in, refusing in spectacular fashion.

His horse rears.

And in a long, horrible moment, Thomas falls.

Everything happens at once.

Instinctively, I stretch for his horse’s reins in a desperate, reckless attempt to try to yank him away before he comes down on Thomas. And I tug hard on my horse’s reins at the same time to turn.

It’s enough to shift Thomas’ horse’s balance a fraction—either from my efforts or the distraction—and his front hooves narrowly avoid trampling Thomas.

But that shifts my balance too.

Everyone’s yelling.

—Wilson’s right there, still glued to my side, with Connor right behind him?—

—We’re all too close—to each other, to the hedgerow—to Thomas?—

Time distorts.

And Thomas is somewhere underfoot.

“Thomas!” I scream desperately.

I don’t know how long I’ve been screaming, but my voice breaks.

And then, my horse refuses the hedgerow with the shift in my weight in the chaos. I try to shift back.

But it’s too late—Midnight tries to come to a screeching halt. I catapult over his head towards the jump, the world upended every which way.

---