Holden keeps looking at me like he wants to talk to me.

But then he doesn’t.

It’s bizarre, and annoying.

I really need to find a time to remind him that he shouldn’t be taking Chloe to the dance, but it’s hard. I can’t do it in public, and I don’t trust myself to do it in private either. Another heated discussion between us is the last thing we need.

The only reason for pulling him into Mr. Johnson’s classroom last week was to set him straight on the Chloe issue, but at this stage, she still thinks she’s going to homecoming with him.

Does he not get it?

Every time he smiles or talks to her, she falls just a little bit more in love.

He has to stop!

I need him to stop.

I ignore the niggle that maybe I have more than one reason for wanting Holden to stop flirting with my sister.

Don’t go there! I snap my eyes shut, warning the thought away before it can develop.

I’m simply being the protective older sister. That’s it!

I squirm in my chair, hating that it’s not. I don’t want to like that pig. That gorgeous, blue-eyed, beautiful pig. Fighting with him on the mound, then facing off with him in Mr. Johnson’s room, was heart-thrilling. Which it totally shouldn’t be because feeling that way around him is insane.

You know what, it’s good that he can’t talk to me.

I don’t want to be around the guy anyway.

I want Patrick back.

Picking up my pen with a thick swallow, I frown at the lack of emotion pulsing through me when I think about my ex-boyfriend with his calm gray eyes and perfectly styled hair. He likes to look good, but not in the way Holden does. Patrick is a perfectionist; therefore everything he does needs to be neat and orderly. He never puts on a show or cares what other people think about him. I like that.

It may not be heart-thrilling but at least it’s honest.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I try to focus on my study notes. It’s really hard when Holden’s face keeps floating through my mind, teasing and annoying me. He’s probably in the gym right now, working out with my sister. A sharp image of his cut body doing push-ups makes my insides bubble with desire.

Stop it!

Rubbing my forehead, I try to work the stress from my mind.

Just focus on this novel analysis!

Focus!

“Come on, brain,” I mutter. “Sharpen up already.”

I lean forward over the book we’re supposed to be dissecting for English and nearly jump out of my skin when a novel smacks down on the table in front of me.

After a little yelp, I quickly compose myself, my eyes narrowing as I glance up at Holden and then back down at the book.

What is he doing here? My heart starts thrumming before I can stop it.

Reaching for the book, I distract myself by murmuring the title. “Catch Me If You Can?” I flip through the pages.

“My favorite book.” He takes a seat beside me.

It’s too much of an effort to hide my smile, so I let it show. “O-kay.”

With a sharp huff, he leans his elbows on the table. “Frank Abagnale was—”

“A criminal.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “He was an intelligent guy who knew how to play a role in order to survive.”

I lean back in my chair and study him. What’s he trying to tell me right now?

Running a hand through his hair, he looks around us to make sure no one’s listening. No one is. We’re the only ones in here because people at this school seem to be allergic to the library.

Well, for study purposes anyway.

Resting his elbows on the table, he pins me with the most serious look I’ve ever seen. “You think you know me, but you don’t. I’m not some cardboard cutout.”

Wow, okay. What I said obviously got to him. Is he sitting here trying to tell me that he’s got some deep and meaningful side?

I hold the spine of the book and run my thumb along the pages. “So how is anyone supposed to know that? I bet your friends don’t know what your favorite book is.”

He snatches it out of my hands and slaps it onto the table. A muscle in his jaw works overtime as he wrestles with something I’m curious to understand.

“I like biographies, okay? True stories about people who have overcome the odds. The power of the human spirit. It inspires me. Truth is, I love to read.”

My eyebrows pop high with surprise.

“See…” He points at me. “That look on your face. That’s why I don’t tell people about this side of myself. They don’t understand it, because it’s not fun or cool to be into books and serious shit.”

Leaning forward, I rest my chin on my hand. “Okay, so you have a serious side. A side that likes reading and being inspired. Why don’t you show that part of yourself to anyone?”

“I just told you.”

I tip my head and give him a skeptical smile. “Come on, you’re one of the most popular guys in this place. You could start a reading trend if you wanted to. You could wear striped pants and a polka dot shirt to school and I guarantee within a day people would be copying you.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “You might think that, but it’s not true.” He closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. “There are expectations. People see me as Holden Carter, the son of the mayor, the cool guy who wins games for the Pitbulls, the good-looking guy who makes the girls swoon. My friends look up to me, people at this school want to be me, because they like the image I present to them. They want it that way.”

My eyes narrow. “Not everybody.”

“Exactly.” He points at me. “You don’t. You think I’m an idiot, and I can’t stand it.”

It’s impossible to hide my surprise. “Why should you care what I think about you?”

“I don’t…know. I don’t know.” He winces and looks down at the table.

“Yes, you do.” I stare at him until his eyes flick back up to mine. “You wouldn’t be sitting here sharing this with me if it wasn’t for a good reason. So figure it out. Why does my opinion matter?”

His face crumples with a look of confused agony before he softly mutters, “That look on your face when you called me out on my bullshit…it ruined me. I’m used to people adoring me and telling me I’m amazing. But you…you just tore me to shreds.”

I swallow, my gaze darting away from his. I can’t help a touch of guilt for some reason. Maybe I was a little harsh, but I can’t bring myself to apologize. What I said was true…wasn’t it?

Licking my lips, I softly respond, “How can I call you amazing when you act like a shallow asshole?”

He snickers and swipes his thumb across the tip of his nose. “For some freaked-out reason, I can’t stand that you see me that way. It’s been eating me alive, and I hate it. I need to prove you wrong about me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a shallow asshole,” he whispers, the look on his face making my heart expand in ways it shouldn’t. His deep blue gaze begs me to understand.

Those eyes are raw with honesty and they’ve never been more beautiful.

“You gotta let me show you that I’m not a total dick. Give me one date.”

The word date shocks me out of my surprised daze. I shake my head. “A date? I’m not… I can’t go on a date with you.”

“Why not?”

Seriously? All that stuff about not being a shallow asshole and he doesn’t understand why I’m saying no?

His dark eyebrows lift, waiting for my answer.

“Uh, hello? My sister already thinks she’s in love with you.”

“Oh, come on.” He tips his head back with a sigh. “She doesn’t even know me. We barely talk.”

“Yet you’re taking her to the dance.”

“Yeah, as a friend. I’ve never said otherwise.”

I lurch forward, my voice cool and snappy. “You might want to make that a little clearer to her.”

He bounces away from my anger with an irritated huff. “Look, I’ll take her to the dance and make it clear we’re just buddies. She’ll get over it.”

“No. You are not going to do that to her. You need to stop this charade right now.”

He grimaces, his face bunching with that look of agony again. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

My lips part in surprise before I blink and then snap, “That’s inevitable, so you may as well get it over with.”

“And have her miss out on a fun night at the dance?”

“Her night will be ruined as soon as she realizes you’re not genuine!”

“Then I’ll let her know the next day.”

“Argh! You are impossible!” I lift my hands up and run my fingers through my hair in frustration. “If you didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you shouldn’t have asked her to the dance in the first place.”

“Yeah, but I did. And now I want her to have a good night. So stop being the fun police and let her enjoy this.”

“You just don’t get it,” I clip.

Leaning back into my space, he meets my glare head on. “I’m not going to do anything to lead her on. I won’t try to kiss her. I’ll just take her to the dance, treat her like a princess, and bring her back home. I’ll use the word ‘friends’ a lot and talk about how great it is to make new ones. It’s the nicest, easiest way to let her down. Trust me on this.”

I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him. “You really hate being the bad guy, don’t you?”

His expression flickers with unrest before he dips his head and murmurs, “Yeah, I guess I do. That’s why I can’t stand your current opinion of me.”

He looks up, his gaze rich and beautiful. I study his face, my eyes dipping to his full lips before shooting back up to those eyes.

Dammit, that gaze is going to own me in a second.

I shy away from it, my cheeks growing hot, and start frantically packing away my books. This is getting just a little too intimate for me. I need to get the hell out of here.

“Stop.” Holden rests his hand over mine. I freeze beneath his touch. “Maddie.”

Oh no. My name sounds way too sweet coming out of his mouth that way. A thrilling tickle sizzles through my body.

“No one’s ever called me on my bullshit before.”

My eyes take on a mind of their own and track back up until I’m looking straight at him again.

He’s so sincere right now, and it makes him even more gorgeous than he already is.

“Except you. You challenge me. And I hate it…and kinda like it too. There’s something about you. You’re different from any girl I’ve ever met, and I need to show you that there’s more to me than what you think.”

“I’m not your type.” The words rush out so fast I’m surprised he caught them.

“I didn’t think you were my type either, but why can’t I stop thinking about you? Why am I obsessed with showing you a part of myself that no one else at school knows? It’s been torturing me for days and I’m finally acting on it. You gotta let me show you.”

Why is he doing this to me? Seriously! How did we go from fighting on a baseball mound to whispering secrets in the library?

“Can’t do it.” My neck’s suddenly stiff, making it hard to shake my head. “I’m not going on a date with you.”

Holden huffs and lightly smacks the table. “Okay, fine. No date. Just hang out with me for a little bit.”

“Nope.” My headshake is gaining momentum.

With a sigh, he leans in close again, his voice low and secretive. “Listen, I—I go to this home for the elderly on Sundays, and on Wednesday nights. Come help me out. It’ll be the most non-date environment you’ve ever been in. Believe me.”

He what?

My lips part of their own accord. “You do not.”

“I do. I swear.” He holds his breath for a second and then admits, “My grandpa lives there. I go over twice a week to help out with pushing wheelchairs and getting people to bingo night. I hang out and read to the old guys who never get any visitors.”

Okay, he what?

“Look, no one else knows that I go there to work, all right? They think I go there to see this—”

“Cougar!” My eyes round with swift realization. “Oh my gosh, that’s your cover story? Why do you even need one? Helping the elderly is awesome.”

“No. I mean… yeah, it is. But I don’t want my friends turning up trying to help out, so I’ve told them that I just put on a show in order to screw—” He bites his lips together, then cringes. “Look, Grandpa’s in a bad way, I just… It’s private. I don’t want people figuring out he’s there. You know, school gossip and nosey people. He doesn’t need that shit, and I… I mean, it’s… People can be assholes, and I need to protect… I need to…” He sags with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, touching his arm before I can stop myself.

His gaze springs to mine, his body going still beneath my fingers. I try to move my hand away, but it won’t budge.

My voice is barely a squeak. “If it’s such a big secret, why do you want to show me?”

“Because you’re the only person at this school who openly detests me.”

I snicker and shake my head. “Not everyone has to like you, Holden.”

“It’s important to me that you do.” He places his hand over mine and gives it a soft squeeze. “So, you want to come and help me? Please, let me show you that I’m not a total asshat, and then you never have to hang out with me again. I just need you to know.”

“Why?” I blink, still trying to figure out how to respond.

“I can’t explain it. I just need you to know,” he croaks.

I swallow and lick my lips.

There’s no way.

Even if I am just going to watch him be nice to old people…

Even if I’m desperate to see what that looks like…

I’ve got Chloe to think about.

My sweet little sister.

The one I’m trying to protect.

My brain starts churning before I can stop it, and inspiration hits me. I don’t know if it’s good inspiration, but at least it’s plausible.

I rub my chin and try to buy into my oh-so-brilliant reasoning. “I guess you are taking my sister to the dance, so it makes sense that I should check you out in a different setting and make sure you’re good enough for her.”

Guilt niggles for a second, but I justify it by telling myself that if Holden, by some miracle, is good enough for her, then I can stop hassling him about taking her to the dance.

And he said if I go then I never have to hang out with him again, which is a really good thing, because being this close to him is not good for my heart.

I can do this one thing and then start prepping Chloe for the fact that Holden thinks of her more like a friend, that he’s not into serious relationships.

If he can be nice to old people, then I can trust him to treat my sister like a princess at the dance and then bring her home unscathed.

That’ll be it.

Minimal damage.

Problem solved.

I can live with that.

“So, am I getting a yes?” Holden’s pleading expression switches back to his usual triumphant smirk.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t ruin it by bringing out the smirk. You haven’t won any kind of competition. If anything, you should be nervous because if I don’t like what I see at this place, then you have to swear you’ll tell Chloe you can’t take her to the dance anymore. I don’t want you leading her on.”

“Okay.” He bobs his head but that smirk keeps tugging on his lips.

I huff and mutter, “You don’t need to look so smug. Just smile.”

He does and my already flailing heart goes wild.

Swallowing down the impact he seems to have on me, I squeak, “Better,” and then jerk out of my seat, avoiding his gaze while I gather my stuff and make a beeline for the door.

This has got to be the world’s worst idea.

I’m gonna have to spend the whole time reminding myself that I’m doing this for Chloe.

Chloe.

It’s got to be about Chloe.