“Thanks for coming with me.” I nudge Maddie’s shoulder and she sways to the side.

Her smile is pretty damn cute as she wipes ketchup off her lip.

We’re sitting on the walkway circling the top of the water tower, our feet dangling over the edge while we chow down on burgers and thick shakes. Well, I got a thick shake. Turns out Maddie’s lactose intolerant, so she’s slurping on a soda instead.

I didn’t actually intend to buy her Bernie’s and bring her to the water tower, but after her awesomeness at Cresthill, I had to step up. She deserves every treat I can give her after the way she spoke to Grandpa and then took care of those bingo players.

She was nervous—I could tell by her weak smile—but she did it anyway, and by the end she seemed really into it.

Maddie chews the last of her burger and then licks her lips clean.

I’ve only ever really sat up here with Luke. Sometimes Kingston and Zane join us, but I don’t usually bring girls here. If this were a date, I would have taken her to Bilkman’s field on the outskirts of town or up to Cherry Top Hill so we could make out in my car.

But this isn’t a date, so in order to avoid all temptation, I brought her here.

It’s potentially a big mistake, because the longer I hang out with this chick, the more I find to like. She’s so much more than just a beautiful, feisty turn-on.

“Did you like being at Cresthill?” I pop a fry in my mouth and try not to look hopeful as I gaze at her.

She swallows and nods. “I did. I’ve never been to a home like that before and I didn’t know what to expect. Those people are really sweet.”

“They are, right? I even find myself liking the grumpy ones. It’s amazing how all you have to do is ask about their childhood or teen years and out come the stories. They love their stories.” I can’t help smiling as I remember Mr. Spencer’s lengthy retelling of the first time he fell in love. The guy has fallen in love a lot over his eighty-seven years. It was fun hearing about the first one. He was only ten at the time, but he still remembers it with clarity. His body might be failing him but his brain’s as sharp as a tack.

I wish I could say the same about Grandpa.

Reaching for my shake, I accidentally brush Maddie’s knuckles. She flinches like I’ve burned her.

I don’t say anything, but she rubs a thumb over her knuckles and shoots me a weak smile.

“How long have you been working there?” She looks away from me, staring out at the twinkling vista below us. Armitage always looks better at night, especially from up here. The darkness, broken only by lights, hides so much. Maybe that’s why it’s my favorite spot.

I swallow my mouthful of chocolate shake before answering. “I asked if I could volunteer the day my grandpa moved in.” I frown. “Mom wanted him to come live with us. My brothers have never lived in Armitage and it’s not like they come back to visit, so we had the space. But Dad didn’t think we could handle it. Maybe he’s right.” I shrug, wary of how much I should share. Part of me wants to blurt everything. For reasons I can’t explain, I feel like I can trust Maddie not to blab my secrets.

“I’m sorry he can’t remember you anymore.”

I flash her a brave smile. “Sometimes he does, and it makes it worth going. I miss him. When I was kid, he always had my back, you know? My older brothers got on so well, and I was just this annoying kid they were always hiding from or playing tricks on. They’d try to get me into trouble, but Grandpa would always take my side. He looked out for me, and now it’s my turn to look out for him.” My voice has suddenly gone croaky. I clear my throat, trying to quell the emotion powering through me. I don’t get to talk about Grandpa to anyone. I didn’t expect it to make me feel like I want to cry.

Maddie’s hand touches my shoulder, only increasing the strength of whatever the hell I’m feeling. I keep my eyes off her face, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Was Dottie your grandmother?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat again and force a smile. “John and Dottie. The best grandparents in the world.”

“He seems very in love with her still.”

“They were meant for each other,” I whisper, leaning my elbow on the metal railing keeping us safe. “She’d hate knowing he’s at Cresthill. I think Mom knows it too, but Dad just won’t budge.” He scoffs. “He doesn’t like to acknowledge the messy, complicated things in life.”

She doesn’t react to my scathing tone. Her voice is calm and steady as she asks, “Does John remember your mom?”

“Not really. I think it kills her a little. She’s his only daughter, you know. They used to be close, and now they never see each other.”

“She doesn’t go to visit?”

I grimace, unsure how much to say.

“At least you’re still strong enough to acknowledge him. The way you are with him, and all those people at Cresthill. You’re amazing, Holden. You truly have another side.”

I snicker and shake my head. “You want me to show it to everyone, don’t you?”

Dipping her head, Maddie brushes her teeth over her bottom lip and then finally whispers, “I understand why you don’t. I mean, I’m not trying to say that you should hide it because you’re embarrassed, or you think it’s uncool to spend time with elderly people. You do it to protect him…and I get that. Not everyone would understand. People might look up to you but that doesn’t mean they won’t gossip behind your back or make jokes at your grandpa’s expense. I’ve only been in Armitage for like a month and I already know what it feels like to be stared at, snickered at and talked about around every corner. Small-town gossip is like an entity of its own.”

“I always imagine it like this poisonous fog rolling through the town, brainwashing people without them even knowing it.”

“Nice imagery,” she murmurs with a smile.

I hide my embarrassment by scrubbing a hand down my face. “Come on, you don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. You’re a straight-A student, smokin’ hot and a damn good catcher.”

“Be careful, Mr. Carter. I think I just heard a compliment about my athletic ability in there somewhere.”

I chuckle. “I know I acted like a douche in that preseason friendly, but I was trying to stand up for Luke.”

She still doesn’t look that impressed with my reasoning, so I veer away from the topic in order to avoid some kind of argument. I’m having too good a time to ruin it with anger.

“My point is, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. Your sisters are awesome, your dad’s this kick-ass cop, and your mom’s a full-blown hottie.”

“Hey!” She laughs, slapping my arm and trying to scowl at me.

I make a silly face and she gives in to a beautiful smile.

Man, I want to kiss those lips.

Making it ten times worse, she gives them a quick lick. “My family can be embarrassing, okay? You saw my dad when he basically made Coach Keenan put us on the team. And you don’t see my mom behind closed doors. She’s miserable right now. She hates Armitage and is desperately trying to get a job, but can’t find one.”

“What does she do?”

“She was a product manager for a big company back in Columbus. It was a high-profile job for her. She worked long hours and loved every second of it. Now, for the first time in her life, she’s doing the stay-at-home mom thing. It’s so not her style.”

“So you grew up in daycare, huh?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “It wasn’t so bad, but seriously, having her home all the time is kind of weird. The house has never been so sparkly clean, and she’s never been so up in our business before. I don’t know if I like it.”

“See, I kind of miss that. My mom used to be like Martha Stewart. The house was always neat and tidy—fresh towels in the bathroom, beds made without a crinkle in ’em, freshly baked cookies waiting for us after school. She was all about looking good and having the perfect home, and presenting this perfect family. She used to smile…and cook dinner…and ask me about my day.” It’s impossible to keep that tangy bitterness out of my tone.

Maddie purses her lips, then softly asks, “I take it she’s not like that anymore?”

My shoulders slump, realizing what a huge foot I’ve just put into my mouth.

Do I take it back?

Brush it off?

Tell the truth?

Pinching my nose, I look away from Maddie. My brain feels like it’s on fire right now, telling me to do one thing yet demanding I do another.

No one knows. Except my immediate family, but they won’t acknowledge it. Even my brothers brush it off, saying she’s not that bad and I’m being too dramatic. They’ve always been self-centered pricks. Truth is, they don’t want to know because they don’t want to be responsible for her. They’ve moved out. Moved on. They’re not looking back.

“Holden?” Maddie touches my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“She’s an alcoholic,” I suddenly croak.

Maddie doesn’t respond, so I turn back to face her.

Those beautiful eyes are gazing at me with a mixture of pain and sympathy.

I sigh, feeling the weight of my burden. “I’ve never told anybody that before.”

“How bad is it?”

“She has the odd good day.” I shrug but then deflate beneath the truth. “She drinks a lot. Sometimes I find her conscious and doing stupid, embarrassing stuff. Other times she’s passed out in different parts of the house. Thankfully she doesn’t get out much. Dad’s confiscated her car, and he had big gates put up on the property last year. She struggles to remember the code to get out, especially when she’s drunk. When he needs us to look good, he’ll spruce her up and make sure she’s as sharp as she can be, but most of the time, he just leaves her to it.”

“Why?” Her face bunches with confusion. “Why won’t he get her help?”

I shake my head. “Beats the hell out of me. I’ve tried to talk to him about it so many times, but he acts like there’s nothing wrong with her.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I let the anger and frustration spike through me. “I even tried to sneak her to rehab once, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t think they have a problem. Mom refuses to accept the fact that she loses control. Even when she’s puking her guts out, she’ll be telling me it was something she ate. She’ll pour herself a fourth glass of wine and then giggle and tell me she’s just going to have one tonight. I’ll tell her how many she’s up to and she’ll just flick her hand through the air. ‘Don’t be silly, Holden. I’d never drink that much.’” My anger breaks beneath the crushing sadness that always follows. “I’m grateful she’s not an angry drunk, but I worry about her. I worry that I’m going to get home one day and find her dead.”

The silence that follows my biggest fear is thick, but not awkward. It’s just heavy with the weight of my nightmare.

Reaching for my hand, Maddie threads her fingers through mine and leans her head against my shoulder. “How long has she been drinking?”

“A while, but it didn’t start getting really bad until about a year ago.”

“Do you think she’s trying to hide from the fact her father’s losing his mind?”

“Maybe. But I think it’s more than that. Dad’s always worked long hours, but since moving here and becoming mayor, it’s been so much worse. My brothers are distant and useless at keeping in touch. I’m busy with high school. It sounds kind of harsh, but none of us really need her anymore.” The words are acid in my mouth and I feel bad for saying them, but it’s the truth. I didn’t exactly grow up in a family where you talked about emotions or said ‘I love you’ to each other. I’ve never heard Dad say that to me, not once. Everything was always about looking good and appearing like we were perfect so no one could see the cracks beneath the surface.

Maybe that’s why I liked being with my grandparents so much. They were honest and uncomplicated. I knew without a doubt they loved me.

That’s the kind of home you want to keep coming back to.

Maybe if my brothers and I had grown up with them, we wouldn’t all be itching to get out the door and start our own lives without a backward glance.

“Your mom must be feeling kind of lonely and redundant, I guess.”

“Maybe, but then it can’t just be that, can it?”

“It’s probably a combination of a lot of things.”

“Things she doesn’t want me to know,” I murmur.

Maddie’s thumb rubs over my knuckles, comforting me.

Her head on my shoulder is bliss. She smells like some kind of sweet flower, and the touch of her hand in mine is like hugging a teddy bear when you’re six and fighting a cold.

My chest expands with something foreign. I’m not used to sharing my secrets. I pride myself on fun-filled dates made light by laughter or hot with kisses.

This is something else.

This is something more.

This is something high-risk and just a little terrifying.