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He leans down, his mouth gently pressing to mine. I grab his collar and pull him closer, and he groans. “Grace,” he breathes, half desire and half warning.

We have to stop.

Also: don’t stop.

I can choose better than my mother has. I can choose someone who’ll allow me to have an opinion, who might pull his weight.

But I can’t choose a husband like Ford because I know those boys in New Hope well enough to say that none of them are him.

“Kappy said you don’t really date,” I say on the drive back to the park.

I want him to say he’s dating me. I’m eager for him to confirm things. I assumed you were my girlfriend, he’ll tell me. I thought it was obvious.

“I don’t,” he says, and my hope shatters like glass. “I don’t want to take my eyes off the prize. Once I started playing football...”

I turn in my seat, waiting for him to finish. And dreading it too.

“It started getting offered on a platter,” he concludes, his gaze flickering toward me. “And I took it for a while. It’s not that I didn’t want it. I did. I just didn’t want only that. My sister was always arguing with my mom and rebelling. I figured one of us just had to hold it together and put all that shit off until we were done with school. I’d rather wait for the real thing.”

I rub at this bruised place his words have created in my chest. I guess he’s still waiting for the real thing.

And here I was, assuming we’d both found it.

Kappy and I have spent most of the week planning to hang out on Saturday. We are going to give each other makeovers and watch Outlander and A Discovery of Witches, though Kappy has warned me that TV-Matthew the vampire isn’t nearly as hot as the book version. Probably because no human could be as hot as the book version, aside from Ford.

I’ve already secured my mother’s agreement to this, since I told her we were studying for our English exam. There isn’t an ounce of guilt inside me over the lie. I just don’t want to get caught.

I bounce down the stairs on Saturday after completing my chores, my backpack slung over my shoulder. My mother drives me since Kappy lives miles away, and it’s pouring rain outside.

“Why can’t I ever go to Kappy’s house?” Faith demands from the back seat as we pull up. “This isn’t fair.”

I laugh to myself. If Faith’s looking for fairness, she’s in the wrong home.

“Guess what?” my mother says, looking in the rearview mirror, “today you get to go inside.”

“Hurray!” shouts Faith, unbuckling her seat belt.

I stare at my mother. “What?”

“You’re taking Faith. She can just draw while you guys study.”

I draw in an agonized breath. “Mom. She wasn’t invited. And we’ll be trying to study.”

My mother raises a brow, as if she has always known it was a ruse. “Even more reason for her to come. She’ll keep you focused.”

Faith wraps her arms around my mother’s neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

My mother smiles wide, placing her hands over Faith’s forearms as if she’d like to keep her just like that forever.

I climb out of the car without a word, and Faith scrambles out to follow. She thinks she’s tagging along. In actuality, she’s playing prison warden. My mom knows that Faith will run her mouth the second we say or do something we shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Kappy when she opens the door. “My mom sprung it on me.”

“The dimple strikes again,” says Kappy, as Faith skips into the house. “I guess we’re not watching Outlander after all. I really wanted you to see it. The guy who plays Jamie is so hot. He’s like...the perfect casting.”

“Just give her some markers and paper. We can’t watch the whole episode, but we can watch a little. If she walks over, I’ll tell her it’s a history movie for school.”

Kappy laughs. “What a talented little liar you’ve become, Miss Felton.”