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Holden pointed at a huge modern house in white with geometric windows framed in black steel. Every window was dark.

I gave a low whistle and started to pull the truck into the drive. “You live here?”

“Park on the side,” he said. “Can’t leave grease marks on the driveway.”

I parked, killed the engine and started to follow him out of the truck’s cab when I came to my damn senses.

“Shit, wait. What am I doing? I completely ditched Violet.” I fished my phone out of my tux pocket. A text from her waited.

I’m here. Coming soon?

“I have to go back. I can’t do this to her.”

“She’ll get over it,” Holden said. “Trust me.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“I told you. She and one of my best friends are soul mates.”

“Didn’t seem that way at the party,” I said, then remembered Miller Stratton’s death glare when I joined Violet in the closet. “Miller’s your friend?”

Holden nodded. “We need to give them a chance.”

“But…she agreed to come with me to the dance. I can’t just ditch her.”

“You can if it’s for a good cause. Which it is.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know…”

“Can you please, for one goddamn second, spare a thought for yourself?” Holden demanded with sudden sharpness. “Is that what you want? To be with Violet? Answer me honestly. If you do, then I’ll get out of this truck and you can drive back to the school and have your dance and wear your crown and carry on, business as usual. Or…”

“Or?”

“Stay with me.”

Goddamn, Holden’s eyes in the light of my cab pierced me, flooded me with possibilities of a life that was closer to what I wanted. Closer to who I was. So close, all I had to do was reach out and touch it. Him…

I swallowed hard and my fingers typed a text to Violet.

I can’t make it. I’m sorry.

“An excellent choice,” Holden said, now all smiles. “Stay quiet. This neighborhood is filled with stuffy busybodies. I don’t need anyone complaining to my aunt and uncle.”

“You don’t live with your parents?”

“They died in a tragic hot air-balloon accident over the Panama Canal.”

“What…?”

“Just kidding. They’re alive and well in Seattle. Unfortunately.”

He kept walking and I had to hurry to follow. Quietly, we went up the house’s immaculate walk. By the light of his gold Zippo, he punched in a security code on a black console. It made a mechanical sound and then the door opened a crack.

I followed Holden inside, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering how far I was going to take this timeout.

The foyer was dark, but Holden didn’t turn on any lights. Photos were black squares on the white wall, the faces indistinguishable. The hall opened on an open-concept space: living room flowing into the kitchen. Sleek, modern furnishings overlooked a backyard of pristine white cement and a glittering infinity pool, its underwater lights glowing. Beyond the pool, the entire Pacific Ocean stretched out under a full moon.

“Pretty sweet digs,” I said.

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