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I mock laugh. “Oh, no, Holden. It’s just my crazy coming out.” I wave my hands in the air. “Nothing to do with the fact that what I just said is completely true, though, right? Way to avoid my question.”

“I’m not avoiding. I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth, Holden!” My breaths sting my lungs as the heat searing my nerves fires through me. “Did you come with me because my mom asked you to? Was this some kind of lame setup?”

His head jerks back, his face looking wounded. “No. Not at all. Rachel was concerned you weren’t taking your meds, so I offered to bring them along. And she was right. You haven’t once taken a pill.”

“It’s none of your business. You went behind my back. You told my mom I was taking this trip. What gives you the fucking right?”

He steps closer, and I move back. Keeping enough distance between us where I don’

t feel threatened by his proximity or touch. “I was just concerned, all right? I’d known that something was wrong. I mean, apparently you’d dropped out of school, stopped taking showers, were talking to yourself, and wouldn’t leave the house.” He presses his lips into a hard line. “And she told me you were seeing a psychotherapist. I put a lot of it together on my own.”

I look up at the ceiling, my jaw jutting out, twisting my mouth into a mocking smile. “Awesome,” I say and lower my head. “Look at you, all fucking perfect and judgmental. Never mind that you’re a complete ass.”

His hands drop to his sides and he grips them into fists. “Go ahead. Unleash all your venom on me. But when you’re done with your rant, will you just suck it up and take your fucking meds?”

“Unbelievable.” I stomp toward my pack and plunk it onto the bed, then dig out a tee and my jean skirt. Not caring what the hell I put on, just needing to get out. Away from him.

“You’re not leaving here like this,” he says, his tone a warning.

“Really? Are you going to call my mom or my shrink and tattle on me?” I step into my skirt and jerk it onto my hips, then pull my tee over my head. “Go ahead. And while you’re at it, get some meds for your issues, too. I’m sure they’ll hook you up.”

He stuffs his hands under his arms and leans against the wall, his stare hard on me. “I never said I was perfect. I do have issues, and I know I’ve made mistakes.”

I laugh for real this time. “Yeah, mistakes. You really botched up getting into my pants back in the day.”

In two quick strides, he’s beside me and turning me to face him. His face is drawn, his pale eyes pools of quicksilver. A muscle feathers his jaw as he grits his teeth. My stomach drops, freefall.

“You don’t know anything about—” He cuts off with a clipped tone.

I raise my eyebrows. “Why don’t you enlighten me, then?”

His fingers dig into my arms as he pulls me closer, the heat from his body seeping through his wet tee and rolling over my skin. His cool eyes lock me in place. My breath hitches, and I’m frozen. Hovering in the moment as his face contorts into a lost expression.

With low growl, he pushes me away. “Fuck!” He turns and slams a fist into the wall. The hard thunk makes me jump.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice wobbly from adrenaline and nerves. “I’m the one who needs help.” I step into my shoes and grab my cross-body purse from my pack and then head toward the door.

Holden doesn’t try to stop me like I think, only says, “You were right about one thing.”

My steps halt. My hand hovers over the doorknob. Keeping my back to him, I don’t ask, just wait for him to either finish his sentence, or release me from his hold and let me walk out.

He blows out a forced breath. “There was a side to Tyler you never knew. Things about him, his life that would make that pool incident seem like swimming with guppies in a tank.” A beat. “And me? I’m shark infested waters.”

With a shaky hand, I latch on to the door and yank it open. “Don’t follow me, or I’ll mace your ass.” Then I’m in the hallway, my legs fighting against the tremble wracking my body as I pump them hard to get away.

I actually do carry mace in my bag. Would I use it on Holden? No. Despite his last words to me and him losing his temper, he doesn’t frighten me in that way. He used to, just under a week ago. But I’ve seen all Holden’s issues acted out since he was in middle school. I’ve been on the receiving end of his angry tirades now a few times, and they no longer scare me. I understand why he has them, what he must be battling because of his past. But he’s the one who needs to seek help. Not me.

And I’m well aware of Tyler’s life—that I knew nothing. He kept whatever issues he had hidden. From me. From everyone.

As I head down the sidewalk, the afternoon sun and warm, humid air drying my hair and shirt from my still-wet bikini, I replay the fight in my head. Over and over. My emotions on high.

I stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the pedestrian light to signal go for the walkers, bikers, and joggers. The sidewalks are teeming with every type, from locals shopping to tourists sightseeing, as I head deeper into downtown.

This strip of the city kind of reminds me of Memphis, with its old brick buildings and run-down looking shops. But it’s not the drinking or partying district like Beale Street. Everything is more upscale. Retro yet chic. Artsy.

I love it.

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