Page 46 of Fangirl Down

Buck Lee left, as casually as he’d arrived.

And that’s when her glimpse of the old, astonishing Wells Whitaker winked out completely.

At this rate, their chances of making the cut and continuing in the tournament tomorrow were slim to none. Not unless he managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without bogeying a single hole and that seemed about as likely as TSwift performing in her bathroom later tonight.

Keep trying. Don’t quit on him.“The wind is picking up—”

“I don’t give a shit about the wind, Josephine. I’m pissing into it at this point.”

Her shoulders wanted to slump, but she wouldn’t let them. “You’re burning it all down.”

“Sounds about right,” he responded, tight-lipped, while examining the head of his club.

“Don’t. Step back, recognize what you’re doing, and balance yourself out.”

His snort drew the attention of several spectators. “Oh Jesus, stop shovel feeding me your Zen nonsense, belle.”

“Nonsense is allowing that passive-aggressive, condescendinghas-been to get in your head and letting him rearrange it. Letting himwin. I thought you were more badass than that.”

Wells’s head turned slowly, pinning her with an incredulous look. “You met him for all of thirty seconds and you got all of that?”

“Yup!”

He really, truly looked like he was trying to claw his way out of the mental hole he’d dug for himself, but he just couldn’t do it. The grimace of regret, the remaining light fading from his eyes, told her that much. “Let me take my drive, Josephine.”

“Go for it. I’ll be on the sidelines.”

“What?” he shouted.

“I said, I’ll be...” She fluttered her fingers at the roped-off spectator section. “Over there.”

Panic slowly snuck into his expression. “What happened to never quitting?”

“I said I would never quit as long as you didn’t quit on yourself. That’s what you’re doing.” She whirled around, took a few steps, and ducked under the rope, a few feet to the right of the gallery—

And immediately her foot was run over by a golf cart.

Pain shot from her toes to her ankle, snatching the breath clean out of her lungs. It was such a shock, happened so quickly, she didn’t even have a chance to make a sound. Her backside planted in the grass before she knew she was falling, her only necessity to get the pressure off her foot. Surely it was broken?

A roar of denial from Wells nearly deafened her. “Josephine.”

He was in front of her, his image momentarily blurred by the blood rushing to her head, but after a few seconds of taking stock, the shock wore off and the pain started to dull.Just surprised. You were just surprised.“I’m fine.”

“What the fucking fuck,” he exploded, dropping to his knees in front of her. “You gotrun over.”

“Just my foot.”

“You ran over my caddie,” he barked at the cart, which was carrying two officials. “I’m going to f—”

“Wells.”

He made a sharp sound of frustration. “Where is the medic on this course?” Before she knew his intentions, Wells had picked her up off the ground to cradle her in his arms. “Where?”

The official stood up. “I’ve radioed them. The medical cart is on the way.”

“Oh good,” he responded. “Another cart. Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll finish her off!”

“Watch yourself, Whitaker,” the official shot back, jabbing the air with his finger. “We were headed over here to give you a warning about the profanity.Again.”

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