There’s a warm sensation buzzing through my chest as Holden drives me home.

I’ve just had the perfect evening. It was soft and sweet in spite of the raw, ugly honesty. It’s weird to think that my opinion of the guy has changed so rapidly. I’ve been hating on him for a month and I’m now filled with complete understanding.

I get the front. I understand why he wants to stick with his cocky image. It’s easier, somehow safer.

I’ve always been one for honesty. I try to be who I am, no matter where I am.

But I don’t have an alcoholic mother, a checked-out father and a grandpa whose brain is breaking down.

“Just stop here.” I point to the corner of my street.

Holden gives me a confused frown. “I should drive you to your door.”

I smile. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t want Chloe seeing me getting out of your car. She’ll jump to conclusions.”

Holden’s jaw works to the side like he wants to say something.

I study his profile. Weird how I used to find it irritatingly hot. Now it’s something else. It’s not so square and angular. There’s a softness to it now. His whole appearance has been tempered—or maybe even enhanced—by the truth.

Pulling up to the curb, Holden leaves the engine to idle while I unbuckle my seat belt.

I’m not sure how to end this surreal evening. So much has been said.

What’s tomorrow going to look like?

He’ll go back to being Holden “Asshat” Carter.

But he won’t be.

Because I’ve seen the other side now.

“This is weird,” I whisper. “I’m not sure how to look at you anymore.”

His eyebrows twitch with worry.

Before he can say anything, I touch his arm and look him right in the eye. “Don’t worry. Just because I know who you really are doesn’t mean anyone else will. I may be honest, but I can keep your secrets. You can trust me.”

His smile is soft and grateful. “Thank you.”

“Good night, Holden.”

He gives me soft smile. “Night, Maddie.”

I slip out of the car before I can give in to any kind of temptation, and walk away. He’s still sitting there watching me, his Mustang headlights lighting my way home.

Just before I reach the house, I spin and raise my hand, waving a final goodbye.

He flashes his lights at me, then does a U-turn and leaves.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to squash the warm fuzzies buzzing through me. I can’t explain what’s going on, but I want more nights like this one.

It’s a dangerous thought, but I can’t seem to control it.

Opening the door with a dreamy smile, I’m stopped short by my snappy mother.

“Where have you been?” Her blue eyes flash as she plants her hands on her hips.

“I…I texted Max to say I’d be late.”

“Well, she’s not home to pass on the message, so I have been going out of my mind with worry.”

I click the door shut behind me. “Did Chloe call you?”

“Yes, she’s working on some charity thing with her new friend…Ring or Run or something.”

“Rahn, Mom.”

“Don’t change the subject.” She snaps her fingers and points at me. “You should have texted me yourself!”

I’ve got to say, it’s hard managing Mom when she’s frustrated with life. I mean, we’ve always checked in, but it’s usually been with each other since Mom was busy working.

As long as we all know what each sister is doing, Mom doesn’t mind because she knows she can trust us. She calls one and finds out what all three are up to. That used to be good enough for her. To have the full force of Mom’s brain focused on us is way more difficult than when she was distracted with work all the time.

Pasting on an apologetic smile, I run my hand down my ponytail and try to ease the tension. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why Max isn’t home yet. She wanted the car and said something about a batting cage.”

Mom sighs and looks to the ceiling. “She’s no doubt squeezing in extra practice and forgot her phone even exists. You know what she’s like.” Rubbing her forehead, she frowns. “But that doesn’t explain where you’ve been.”

“Oh, I…” My mouth opens and shuts as I scramble for the right answer. Do I say Holden? Will that be weird?

I’m struggling to form a reply when the back door opens and Dad appears in the kitchen. “Who just dropped you home? Red Mustang.” He unclips his belt and lays it on the kitchen counter. “I got the plates, which I’m happy to run unless you’d like to clear it up for me right now.”

I roll my eyes and figure there’s no point in even trying to lie. “Holden Carter.”

“Huh.” Dad’s eyebrows shoot north. “Were you guys on a date or something? Because I’d really prefer him to come and ask me before taking out one of my daughters.”

“Dad!” I scowl at him. “I can date someone without them having to ask you first. Talk about embarrassing.” He glares at me and I glare straight back. “I’m eighteen, and wise enough to decide who I’ll go out with, thank you very much.”

“Hey.” He points at me. “I’m your father and while you’re under my roof, you’ll do me the decency of checking first before letting some guy take you out.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me. You girls are still young. This is a new town and I don’t trust everybody in it.”

“Well, you can trust Holden.” I cross my arms and give him a pointed look.

“Trust him?” Dad mirrors my stance. “The guy who yelled at you on the pitching mound in front of everybody.”

“I was yelling at him too,” I grit out. “And would you let that go already?” I flick my hand in the air. “Holden’s a decent guy, and you could do me the courtesy of trusting my judgment. You never made Patrick come and ask for permission to take me out.”

Dad laughs like I’ve just made a joke.

Okay, I get it. Patrick is hardly the kind of boyfriend parents have to worry about.

Good. Clean. Wholesome. Uncomplicated.

Allergic to PDA and kisses that involve tongue.

My cheeks flare with color as Dad continues to snicker.

I growl in my throat and cross my arms again.

Mom gives Dad a soft look of reprimand before turning her attention to me. “So, how was your date with Holden, then?”

“It’s not like that.” I shake my head, praying Chloe doesn’t walk in the door while I’m explaining. “The thing is, he asked Chloe to the dance, and I just wanted to check him out. Subtly work out what his intentions are.”

“Chloe didn’t mention that to me,” Dad snaps.

“She told me.” Mom calms him with a wave of her hand. “She’s all excited because some guy from the baseball team asked her. I wasn’t too worried because it’s a homecoming dance and you girls will probably all go together like you did junior prom last year.”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “I’m still not sure I want to go.”

Mom’s eyes round with surprise so I quickly keep talking.

“Which is why I needed to check out Holden and make sure he’s going to look after her. You know, just in case I don’t go. I mean, I probably will.”

You can shut up now, Maddie.

I bite my lips together while Dad’s broad mouth twitches. “So I’m not allowed to interrogate the guy but you are?”

I grin at my father’s expression. “We’ve got to look out for our sweet little girl.”

“And what’s your verdict?” Dad’s losing his battle with the smile.

My heart sinks into my belly acid as I picture Holden picking up Chloe for the dance and treating her to a fun-filled night at school. Is that still happening?

I can’t tell him not to anymore.

He’s no longer a dick, so what am I supposed to do now?

I fight to keep my smile in place, not wanting to let Mom and Dad in on my little nightmare. “Um, I just told you. He’s a good guy.”

“Okay then. Nice work.” A smile breaks across Dad’s face, his eyes glinting with pride. He kisses me on the forehead, then walks through the dining room and turns into the hallway.

It’s nice to see that look aimed at me for a change. He usually reserves that smile for Max. I let the warmth of it soak into me, but it doesn’t have quite the usual impact.

I glance at my mother, my smile faltering under her stern gaze. “Chloe’s sixteen. Heck, she’s turning seventeen this summer. I don’t think she’ll appreciate what you’ve done tonight.”

Wincing, I clasp my hands together and quickly beg, “Can you please not tell her?”

Mom mimes zipping her lips and throwing away the key. She’s still not impressed, but she’s smart enough to know that keeping this between us will save everyone a whole lot of angst.

As she picks up Dad’s belt and heads down to her bedroom, I’m left beside the kitchen counter fighting off a wave of guilt. Mom’s right. Chloe won’t appreciate me checking out Holden on her behalf.

And she most definitely won’t appreciate the way I felt when I was doing it.