56

“So we’re at your house? Where your father is right now?”

“Nah. Dad goes to the casino to blow off steam after we fight. He won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest.”

“And your stepmom?”

He scoffed. “She’s always at his side. If he’s not here, she’s not either.”

He helped me off the bike, catching me as I stumbled. I felt myself blushing underneath the strength of his arms, but I tried not to show it. I tried not to give in to it. This was madness. This was Clint Clarke, for fuck’s sake. The boy that had swung on Michael this morning! There was no way the butterflies in my gut were for him. There was no way on God’s green earth I felt the way I did because of him.

And yet, when he took my hand to lead me inside, I felt my stomach jump.

Turn around. Go home while you still can.

I watched Clint type in a password on a keypad that opened the garage. And with the bag of pastries in one hand, he led me straight through a door and into his kitchen. I gawked as I walked inside, too