Sweetheart

CHAPTER 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that book boyfriends are better than real ones.

Seriously, someone should put that on a t-shirt.

Maybe it could be me—if I ever made it out of this alive.

Now, I wouldn”t call myself a dramatic person per se. If she were here, my older sister, Charlotte, might disagree.

But she wasn”t here.

In fact, there wasn”t another soul in sight.

It was just me, walking on the side of a deserted road at night. By myself. In an unfamiliar area. I”d watched one too many true crime shows and could just hear the coverage now.

Scarlett Kent. 17. Female.

Last seen leaving a wedding party in Chariot, North Carolina, where she”d been hired to play her violin for hours…only for the bride and groom to stiff her at the end of the night, claiming they”d ”pay her later when it was more convenient.” Her car was found broken down and abandoned about 30 minutes from the wedding venue. A piece of uneaten wedding cake was inside. Scarlett and her beloved violin were nowhere to be seen.

I felt the reassuring weight of my violin case in one hand, my bow in the other.My unreliable phone that never held a charge and always seemed to die at the most inconvenient times (like now) was tucked into my bra. I only had two hands. The decision to ditch the cake was difficult but necessary. If I was kidnapped—or worse—I was taking my Yamaha with me. This violin was my kindred spirit. We”d been through too much, seen too much together for me to leave her behind.

Picturing an imaginary foe, I stabbed my bow at the air in front of me.

Plus, I could do major damage with this instrument if provoked. No one better mess with me. I had a weapon.

Of sorts.

Remembering the stupid groom”s words, I stabbed angrily at the air again. They”d pay me later? Yeah right, I”d heard that one before. When you were a musician, especially a young and aspiring musician, you took the jobs you could get.

Even if they were over an hour away and located at a venue that could only be reached using shady backroads.

Dusk had fallen when I left the safety of my car behind, hoping to find cell service, but any light that remained was quickly swallowed by the night.My phone died shortly after. Now, the only guide I had were the stars.

Bright, beautiful, cold…

I shivered as the news coverage started up again in my mind.

When they finally located the body, it was discovered she”d been listening to a romance audiobook, heavy on the swoon, hints of spice, featuring one of her favorite book boyfriends. Her fictional love was with her to the end. Obviously, she didn”t have a boyfriend in real life. Who had the time?

Not this girl, I thought.

Real people could let you down. Books were always there when you needed them—just like music.

I kicked a rock out of my path and trudged ahead.

When asked for a description of Scarlett Kent, guests of the wedding said, ”She looked kind of like a blueberry. Round, fluffy, lots of tulle.”

Did I mention I was wearing a poofy concoction of a dress that was part pageant girl, part Disney princess reject, and heels that dug into the backs of my feet?

I was slashing my bow at nothing, muttering about Bridezillas and their demanding requests, totally in my head…

…when suddenly, I heard something.

The sound of an engine approached from behind. I saw the headlights next as the car drew closer.

My back stiffened, half-hoping they would stop, half-hoping they wouldn”t.

Reasons You Should Never Get in a Car with a Stranger

1. It”s dangerous.

2. Anything could happen.

3. You have no control over where you end up.

4. They could steal your violin.

5. As the title says: the driver is a stranger, an unknown entity, a possible person of interest.

Before I could go on, the car slowed to a crawl.

The tires rolled along beside me, but I refused to look. Maybe if I ignored them, they”d do the same.

”Hey.”

No such luck.

”Do you need a ride?”

Still not looking, I shook my head.”I”m fine.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then…

”Are you sure? No offense, but those shoes look painful.”

The voice was deep.

Male.

And vaguely familiar.

I couldn”t place where I”d heard it before, but in my defense, adrenaline was currently flooding my system.Mystery guy was right though. These heels were torture. I couldn”t wait to kick them off and burn them.

But I”d take sore feet over possibly getting abducted any day.

”No, thank you,” I said, tone polite yet firm. ”I don”t accept rides from strangers.”

He laughed softly at that, and I pulled up short.

”Guess it”s a good thing we”re not strangers then,” he said.

When I finally looked to my left, I saw a face I knew well.

”I”m Sam. Sam Bishop.”

”I…I know,” I stuttered.

His lips pulled up into his signature half-grin, and my heart gave an unwelcome jolt in response. Piercing blue eyes stared at me. As I watched, he arched an eyebrow, and logically my brain told me, there”s no way that should be so sexy. And yet, somehow it was.

Reasons You Should Never Get in a Car with Sam Bishop

1. Those eyes. Rumor had it he could break hearts with a look.

2. Those lips. No guy should have a mouth that distracting.

3. That face. Sam had always been too pretty.

4. The voice. It wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

5. That eyebrow arch. Why, oh why was it so attractive?

6. He”s popular.

7. He”s a jock.

8. He sleeps through class.

9. He”s my opposite in every way.

10. He was my first crush.

11. I got over it, but still...

12. We used to be friends (a long time ago).

13. We hadn”t spoken in years.

14. He was taken—like really taken.

Sam tilted his head. ”You go to Chariot High School, right?”

Internally, I winced. ”Yeah, I do.”

Item #15: Despite my incredibly inconvenient, totally unrequited, got-over-it-years-ago crush, he doesn”t even remember my name.

”Was that your car back there?” he asked.

”Hmmm,” I said.

”We could go back together, try to get it started. I know a lot about engines.”

”Because your dad owns a garage,” I said—then wanted to kick myself. Nice going, Scarlett Way to sound like a know-it-all—and a total stalker.

He nodded slowly. ”That”s right.So…you want that ride now?”

Sam cocked his eyebrow again, but this time I was prepared. The blast of attraction he seemed to emit without even trying hit an impenetrable wall and bounced harmlessly into the air between us. Squaring my shoulders, I sniffed.

”Like I said, I”m fine,” I repeated.

”But—”

Before he could say more, I was already striding forward, leaving him in the dust.

Or I would”ve done if he hadn”t been in a car, and my feet weren”t crying with every step.

Stupid heels.

”Hold up,” Sam said, keeping pace beside me. I could hear the laughter in his voice, and it grated on my already frayed nerves. ”You”re not seriously going to walk all the way back to Chariot.”

”Why not?” I said, swinging my bow at my side. ”It”s a beautiful night.”

He scoffed. ”That”s miles away.”

”Long walks are my favorite.”

What was I even saying? I hated exercise with a passion. It was, in fact, one of my least favorite activities in the world. But he didn”t need to know that.

”You can go now,” I added.

”Seriously?” he said.

I nodded.

”But we already established there”s no stranger danger. You even knew my name.”

”And you still don”t know mine,” I retorted. ”Obviously us going to the same school doesn”t mean anything.”

I shook my head.

”Besides everyone knows your name. You”re the Sam Bishop.”

”I have no idea what that means.” He blew out a slow breath. ”Listen, we don”t even have to talk on the way back. I”ll just drive you home, and you can pretend I don”t exist.”

”Tempting,” I said, ”but no.”

”If you think I”m going to leave you alone in the dark on this creepy stretch of road, you”re crazy,” Sam said. ”That building back there looked like it came straight out of a horror movie.”

When I didn”t respond, he sighed.

”Fine. Guess I”ll just have to drive beside you then.” I rolled my eyes, but he probably couldn”t see it in the dark. ”I”ll be in my nice Mustang with the newly upholstered, heated seats,” he went on as a sudden gust of wind sent chills up my spine. ”And you”ll be walking in those shoes with your little stick.”

”It”s a bow,” I muttered.

”What?”

Spinning to face him, I stopped, and to my dismay, Sam did as well, putting the car in park, looking as if he had all the time in the world.

”You”re really going to follow me all the way back?” I said.

”Yeah,” he said.

”Why?”

Sam gave a shrug. ”Got nothing better to do.”

I frowned back at him. ”Are you always so stubborn?”

”Are you?”

”School starts tomorrow,” I pointed out. ”It”s senior year. Aren”t you worried about getting a good night”s sleep?”

”Not really,” Sam said with a grin. ”I am the Sam Bishop.”

I sighed.

”Come on, let me give you a lift.”

The fact that I was even considering it, despite all my reservations, showed just how awful these shoes were. Plus, honestly, with the wedding debacle and my car breaking down, it had already been such a long night. I looked over to find Sam staring back at me.

”Promise not to try anything,” I said.

”I promise,” he said.

”No accidental brushes of your hand against my thigh or chest. No groping.”

Sam looked like he was biting back a laugh. ”Cross my heart. Your virtue is completely safe with me.”

”You”ll take me straight home and not ask for any weird favors or blackmail afterward,” I said and then added, ”and you won”t try to steal my violin.”

”Scout”s honor.”

I narrowed my eyes. ”Are you really a boy scout?”

”No, but my little brother is,” he said then cocked his head. ”So?”

I quickly took stock of my situation. Option 1: accept Sam Bishop”s offer, hop into his sleek ride with the silver racing stripes and let him take me home. I still had my bow after all. Not as good as pepper spray, but if need be, I wasn”t above getting stabby. Option 2: face the long, dark road ahead, push my already screaming feet to the limit, forgo any sleep I might”ve gotten and possibly be late on the first day of senior year.

I”d never been late to school.

Not once in my life.

Never missed a day either.

And yet…

I gazed longingly at the car in front of me, thinking of those heated seats, then shifted my eyes to the darkness. Maybe I could—

Sam”s voice interrupted.

”Just get in the car, Starlet,” he said.

He popped the locks, and I did just that.

As I slid into the car, however, I mumbled, ”My name”s Scarlett. Not Starlet.”

Sam gave me that half-grin. ”I know,” he said.

Sure you do.

”Want to go back, check on your car?” he asked.

”No point,” I said. ”I was already told I have a bad alternator. Guess it finally gave out.”

”So wait…you knew you needed a new part and drove it anyway?”

I shrugged, ignoring the clear disapproval in his tone. ”Couldn”t afford a new one. The money from tonight”s gig was supposed to help pay for it. But…”

”But?” he said.

”The couple said they”d pay me later which probably means I won”t get paid.”

”That sucks,” Sam said.

”It really does,” I agreed.

Once we were on the road, heading toward Chariot, I gave in and took off my heels. I couldn”t be sure, but when my toes were finally free, I think I moaned in relief. Judging by the look of amusement on Sam”s face, I definitely had.

”Can I ask you something?” he said.

”Okay…”

”Why are you dressed like that?”

I lifted a brow. ”Like a blueberry?”

Sam gave a shrug. ”I was going to say a cross between Elsa and Cinderella.”

”Well, well,” I said, ”the Sam Bishop knows his princesses. Who would”ve guessed?”

”Thanks to my sister,” he said. ”And I still don”t get why you keep saying the before my name. Makes no sense.”

It made sense to me.

He”d always been the Sam Bishop in my head. As in the one and only, the original, the Sam Bishop who stole my heart at age ten and refused to give it back. I couldn”t say any of that to him, though, so I just shrugged.

”I was hired to play a wedding,” I said.

”And they asked you to dress like a princess?”

I shook my head. ”The bride wanted a very specific shade of blue. Not baby blue, aqua or cornflower. Royal blue is what they asked for. This is what I had, so…”

Sam nodded. ”Looks good on you.”

”Yeah, right,” I said with a scoff.

”I”m serious.”

Feeling my cheeks heat, I crossed my arms.

”Gotta be honest, though, I wasn”t sure if you”d be able to fit all that in the car. That”s a lot of material.”

His words startled a laugh out of me, and I gave a mental curse. I would not be charmed by him. The guy couldn”t even remember my name for goodness sakes.

”Is part of it still hanging out the door or…?” he said innocently.

”Ha ha,” I said, ”very funny, Bishop.”

”Got a laugh out of you, Kent.”

Well.

At least he remembered my last name, I thought.

”And I”m assuming if I hadn”t been able to fit inside your inadequately-sized sports car”—he scoffed—”you would”ve just left me on the side the road?”

Sam shook his head. ”Nah, I would”ve just had you take the dress off.”

My jaw dropped, and he cocked a brow.

”It could fit in the trunk,” he said.

”That would be kind of hard to explain if we got pulled over,” I said.

”Not really. We”d just say we”re dating and got a little carried away. Teenagers, young love, and all that.” Sam shot me a small smile. ”We”re supposed to be out, living it up. Right?”

My cheeks were so red they could start a forest fire.

Luckily, it was dark in the car, so I didn”t think he could see.

”Careful there,” I said lightly. ”I”m not sure your girlfriend would appreciate you flirting with me.”

”One, who says I was flirting with you?” Sam said. ”And two, even if I was, it”s fine. I don”t have a girlfriend.”

”What?” I said.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. ”There”s no girl. I”m single.”

”Since when?”

”Since about two hours ago when we broke up.”

”But…you and Brisa were like Chariot High”s power couple,” I said.

Sam chuckled. ”If you say so.”

”I do. So would anyonewho saw you two together. I mean, you”re Bam.”

”Never liked that name,” he mumbled.

”Why not? It”s an awesome couple name.”

Sam grunted.

”I just can”t believe it,” I said, still processing the news. Brisa and Sam were no longer. The couple to end all couples had cut ties. ”You must be pretty sad, huh?”

”It”s not a big deal.”

”Do you want to talk about it?”

”Not really,” he said, reaching toward the radio. ”You good with music?”

”Sure,” I murmured.

It was obviously still too fresh. I”d heardbreakups were difficult—though I”d never experienced one myself. Sam probably needed time to deal. What was it he said? It had only been two hours since the breakup?

That wasn”t nearly enough time to get over your lost love.

My mind was brimming with questions.

There was still so much I didn”t know.

But it was none of my business. Just because I was insanely curious did not mean I had the right to pry.

Let it go, Scarlett.

Heartbreak isn”t easy, and you don”t want to make it worse.

I decided to sit back and enjoy the warmth surrounding me, the twinkling stars that seemed to watch from overhead, the gorgeous sounds pouring through the speakers.Turned out Sam Bishop had good taste in music. This was one of my all-time favorites.

”I love this song,” I said.

”I know,” he said then turned up the volume.