It was early Saturday morning, and Paige was sitting on her front steps waiting for him to pick her up so they could go to his cabin. At the appointed...time he pulled into the driveway, waiting for Paige to make her way over to his truck but she just sat on the porch steps. He blew the horn twice and then rolled down the window and yelled, “Paige, get your ass in the truck. Don’t make me come get you.”“Alright,” Paige said as she meandered over to his truck, taking her time. She opened the door. Even thinking about looking through that window upstairs and seeing Andreas put his hands on Anna, and about what she’d said—well, he was starting to wonder if he’d ever be able to calm down again. If he’d even be able to get himself under control enough that he’d be able to compete tomorrow. Truth be told, in that moment, he almost didn’t give a fuck about the competition anymore. Yes, he wanted to win, and no, he didn’t want to quit, but it was pretty damn hard to give a shit about custards. More

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