My father loved me. Sure. And he was a good man in so many ways, a good leader, with deep moral convictions. But those convictions would prevent him from indulging what he was consider the path of my moral destruction. My mother was just like Paxton—she was spiteful. Once she was angry, it took a lot to earn back her affection.

The combination of both of them upset with me was going to result in an order to come home or be cut off. I knew it.

Both of which made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

“Rory’s dad compromised because he didn’t want to lose her. Mine won’t. I know it.” I tried to give a shrug. “I guess it was going to be impossible not to get busted at some point. I can’t keep pretending to be the perfect daughter. Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t figured that out already.”

“Maybe they have,” Riley said, reaching over and pulling my hand into his. “They might know more than you realize.”

My phone rang again. This time it was “Material Girl” by Madonna. My mom’s ringtone, and my sense of irony on display. “Wow. Paxton moves faster than I thought. He must have been planning to tell the whole time.”

Resigned, heart thumping, hand shaking, I picked up the phone, wondering if I genuinely felt guilty that I lied, or if I was just sorry I’d been caught. “Hello?”

“If you’re going to mastermind that you’re off doing mission work, then you should have the good sense not to post pictures of you partying like a trashy whore on the Internet.”

How was that for a greeting? “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“You didn’t mean for me to find out at all. But I’m not discussing this with you on the phone.” Her voice was cold, her anger barely contained. She wasn’t yelling, but she wanted to be. It sounded like she was trying to not completely lose her shit on me.

I just waited, because there was going to be more. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

She took a breath and continued. “I don’t want to hear your insincere apologies. Tomorrow night is the fund-raiser. You will be there, and you will do your part to help this family. Then we will discuss your behavior.”

“Mom, I have to work tomorrow,” I protested. I didn’t want to go home. They might not let me leave again. I supposed my parents couldn’t lock me in the house, but they could use emotional manipulation.

“And I don’t give a damn,” she said. “Be at the house by five at the latest and I want zero arguments from you.”

Then she hung up on me. Probably to go throw something to let out all that simmering rage.

“That was fast,” Riley said.

“She said I have to come home tomorrow and go to a fund-raiser. Then we’ll discuss my behavior.”

“Are you going to?” he asked.

“I don’t have a ride.”

“I can take you if you want to go. Though maybe showing up with me isn’t going to help the situation. I don’t imagine I’m your dad’s idea of the right guy for his daughter.”

No, he wouldn’t be. But he was the only person who could give me a ride, and if the truth had to come out, then maybe I needed to be a little braver like Rory had been and own up to everything. I wasn’t ashamed of Riley. He was a good guy. I was completely happy with him, and I didn’t want to keep our relationship a secret.

The real question was, did I want to go? I definitely didn’t want to, but I knew I had to. I couldn’t hide from my parents or from my lie. I had to face them and be totally honest. Mature and responsible for my own actions.

“Unless my dad handpicked you, he won’t think any guy is right for me. But it would be awesome if you could take me. I could use the support.”

“If you wants you to go to a fund-raiser, maybe she’s not that pissed,” Tyler said, obviously trying to cheer me up.

But she was pissed, there was no doubt about it.

This was not going to be a fun weekend.

When I came out of the bathroom on Saturday dressed to go home, Riley blinked at me. “I’m sorry, I thought my girlfriend was in the bathroom. Who exactly are you?”

“Ha ha.” I was wearing a long floral maxi dress with a sweater over it, buttoned at the top so it pulled over my chest to cover the bare skin there. The only jewelry I had on was my cross necklace. My flats were yellow, like the flowers in the dress, and I had tied my hair up in a simple bun. No makeup. “I’m trying not to piss them off the second I walk in the door.”

“You look . . . pale.” Riley came over and kissed me on the forehead. “Like a watered-down version of you. I don’t like it.”

“Me either.” But I was trying to be respectful. Either that, or I was still being a wimp. “You ready to go?”

“Yep. Let’s do this. It’s going to be fine.” He stroked my cheek and smiled. “Who can resist forgiving a face like this?”

Even Riley’s optimism started to crack when we pulled up to my parents’ house though. “Holy shit,” he said. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yes.” It was a big redbrick monstrosity, with white pillars and a fountain out front. I had never actually thought it was pretty, though as a kid I’d love the fountain. But by the time I was in middle school, I found it pretentious and embarrassing. Even more so now, seeing it through Riley’s eyes.

“Apparently the God gig is a good one,” Riley said, parking the car. “I admit, I’m feeling a little intimidated.”

“Don’t. It’s just a house that the church paid for. I’ve always thought it was on the verge of tacky.” I took a deep breath and stared at its stillness. “But I know I was really lucky to have material things as a kid. I always got what I wanted, within reason.” Which was probably part of the reason I was so aimless. I’d never really had to work all that hard at anything to have a comfortable life.

Just smile, and say your prayers in public. That’s all that had been expected of me.

“Now I’m really amazed that you agreed to stay at my place. Damn.” Riley shook his head.

“You have a better sense of family in that house than there is in this one,” I told him sincerely. “I like being there, with you and the boys.” Even though I didn’t belong, not really, I felt like I did.

“You ready to do this?” he asked me, taking the key out of the ignition.

“I guess I have to be.” What I really wanted to do was run away and never face the disappointment that was going to be on my parents’ faces.

Riley walked behind me, his boots creating a steady rhythm that soothed me. I was actually really relieved he was with me. I didn’t think that I would have the courage to go inside if he hadn’t held my hand, squeezing it in reassurance. The house was hushed and quiet and I figured my dad was in the library, reading before the social night ahead. The main hallway was two stories high and had more columns, with a winding staircase. I led Riley past the stairs to the wooden double doors to the library. They were open, and my dad was exactly where I had expected, on the sofa already wearing a suit, book in hand.

He looked up and saw me and his rigid expression showed his displeasure. But then astonishment replaced that as he took in Riley’s hand in mine. I knew the picture Riley made to a man like my father. Riley was wearing a Doors T-shirt, the leather straps of his bracelets wrapping around below his tattoos. The fact that he was twenty-five years old was evident in his jaw, the sun crinkles around his eyes, and a glance showed that he looked tense, edgy. His adorable dimples were nowhere in sight.

“Jessica. Come in. Introduce me to your friend.”

Dad sounded polite, in control. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He sounded . . . remote. We went into the room and sat down on the opposite sofa from my father.

“Hi, Dad. This is Riley Mann.” I paused a heartbeat, then went for it. “My boyfriend.”

The manners evaporated. “Is this why you lied to us? Is this why you wanted to stay in Cincinnati for the summer, to be around some guy?”