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“You were mad on the drive home and downstairs.”

“Yes,” he agrees.

When he doesn’t say anything else, I add, “You’re mad about Dylan.”

His eyes flash again and he steps closer. “Of course I’m mad about that asshole. He’s an arrogant prick who hurt you, who tried to control you, right in fucking front of me, and who had your staff looking at you as though you’re a criminal.”

“I have a record.” Or a juvenile one, anyway.

Hudson’s expression turns to granite. “That doesn’t give them—or him—the right to treat you like shit.” He moves closer, extends an arm?—

And I don’t know if it was because I just saw Dylan or because I don’t completely understand his mood. I don’t know if it’s the anger or the fierce lines hewn into his face. I don’t know if it’s just old habits brought to the surface.

But when he reaches toward me…

I flinch.

He freezes. I freeze, my insides tightening with horror.

“Christ, baby,” he growls, his eyes flashing again, but this time with bone-deep hurt, “don’t you know who I am by now?”

“I—”

“Fuck it.” Shoving a hand through his hair, he spins on his heel, calls over his shoulder, “Do what you want. I have work to do.”

I open my mouth again, trying to explain, trying to apologize.

But I don’t get the chance.

He’s already gone.

Hudson doesn’t come home, and when the sun has set and my worry has ratcheted itself up to a hundred, I finally pull out my cell and hit the button to call Briar.

If anyone should understand Hudson, it’s his sister.

She picks up on the second ring, the background so loud I actually hold my phone away from my ear. “Willow, hi. Just give me a second to move somewhere quiet.”

“I can call back if this is a bad time.”

“No,” she says, the sounds slowly fading. “Royal, Jade, and Frankie are having a jam session, and while I love my baby girl and Royal and Jade—” I hear whoosh and then a click and the noise completely disappears. “I would sell my soul if I could have one evening of quiet.”

Despite the worry knotting my insides, I find myself smiling. “I’m happy to babysit,” I say. “Give you that quiet.”

A blip of silence.

But before I can withdraw the offer—of course she doesn’t want a former mess of a child star with a dangerous ex to watch precious Frankie—she speaks.

“You’re so incredibly nice, Willow. With all the shit you went through, how did that happen?”

My throat is tight. “I?—”

“And be careful what you offer,” she says lightly. “Because I’m one more rendition of ‘Old MacDonald’ away from leaving the country.”

“Is Royal teaching her anything else?”

“Yes, thank God.” She sighs. “Now we just need to convince her to play them—luckily Jade is on the case, and considering how much Frankie loves her, I hope my daughter will have a new repertoire before they leave tonight.”

I giggle.