Chapter 17 #2
Madeline wasn’t going to go for it. She’d think I was some sort of creeper putting the moves on her. I rounded the refreshment shack, half hoping she wouldn’t be there.
She was leaning against the wall, scrolling on her phone, her long blonde hair catching the afternoon sunlight. Her eyes were gazing downward, but I knew their exact shade of blue. I knew how they lit up when she was eager and made her whole face glow.
She looked over and saw me. “So, what’s up?”
“My mother’s suspicion level.” I rocked back on my heels nervously. “We need to take things to the next level.”
“Uh-huh.” Madeline folded her arms, her expression cool and questioning. “You said you wanted to discuss ways I can be a devoted girlfriend. If your ideas involve foot rubs, I’m going to demand equal time. Just putting that out there before you suggest anything.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t help my grin. “If you’ve spent the day contemplating giving me massages, it’s time well spent. We can add it to your to-do list.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I never should’ve told you that you were hot. You’re already too full of yourself.”
“Part of my charm.”
“Mm-hm.” She leaned around the side of the refreshment shack, checking to make sure we were alone.
I didn’t bother to look. The refreshment shack stood between the practice field and the playing field.
My teammates would change in the locker room and then congregate on the practice field, not come over here to see if anyone might be talking on the other side of this little building.
“Before you get to your suggestion,” she said, returning her attention to me, “I have one of my own. We need some selfies for authenticity.”
One more couple-thing we’d forgotten to do. “You’re right,” I said.
She swept over, draped her arm around my waist, chimed, “Smile!” and snapped some photos.
I probably looked stunned in the first few.
I was concentrating on her—her instantly bright and happy expression—instead of thinking about my own.
I was noticing the smell of her hair again. After a moment, I managed a smile.
She stepped away from me and examined the pictures. “The last one will do. I’ll send you a copy.” While she did that, she added, “What was your idea for leveling up?”
How did I segue into that ask? I should’ve rehearsed something beforehand. I rubbed my jaw while I gathered my words. “You know how you kiss guys onstage for your plays?”
Her eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. Had she already guessed what I was asking and was that opposed to it?
She folded her arms and blew out a breath, pure attitude. “If you’re about to turn into Needy Drama Guy and demand I send you DoorDash, I’m putting my foot down. I draw the line at making cookies for ignored texts.”
Oh. She hadn’t guessed what I was about to suggest. “That’s not what I’m talking about.
” I lifted my hands as though I would find the needed words hovering in the air.
“I know the perfect way to convince our parents our relationship is real.” Now that she was looking at me expectantly, I found it hard to say anything else.
Did I really want to go from the friend zone to the creeper zone?
And maybe I wasn’t even in the friend zone with Madeline.
Maybe I was just in the forced ally zone.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” she said. “What is your brilliant mastermind plan?”
“We let them catch us kissing.”
She blinked at me. I couldn’t tell whether she was horrified or just considering the idea. “How do we do that?” she asked.
“Next Friday, our grounding is over, and our parents think that after the game, we’ll go out on our first date.”
“Right. We’re not going to McDonald’s, by the way. Not even in our fake plans.”
I ignored her interruption. “Let’s actually get something to eat and go to your house. When your father returns from his date with my mom, he’ll walk in and find us kissing.”
Madeline looked straight at me, no hint of shock or of approval. “I don’t know if you could convincingly pull that off.”
“Why not?”
“When I thanked you for the flowers, you couldn’t even manage a believable hug, and newsflash, when you hold a girl’s hand, you’re not supposed to crush her fingers.
” She looked upward and blew out a puff of air.
“Although maybe those are just problems you have with me. You seemed to be holding Dahlia’s hand just fine. ”
“She held my hand, and it lasted for about three seconds.”
Madeline’s eyes returned to me. “So you’re saying you’re bad at affection all around?”
I sent her a long gaze. “I know how to kiss a girl. I’ll do such a good job, you’ll forget this is all fake.”
“Really?” she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. “Give me a hug right now.”
Now? Nothing is more awkward than hugging a girl who is looking at you judgmentally, lips pursed, like you’ve already failed at the task.
I stepped close to her and paused. She raised a triumphant eyebrow at my hesitancy.
“Could you be a little less prickly?” I asked. “Give me something to work with.”
As though she could turn on affection like a switch, her expression immediately became inviting. She draped her arms over my shoulders, fixed me with an unblinking gaze, and murmured, “Is this better?”
Yeah. A lot better. I pulled her the rest of the way into an embrace, wrapping my arms around her back. The hug simultaneously felt uncertain, forbidden, and a little enticing. She relaxed against me, all gentle warmth. Her head rested on my chest, bringing the scent of her hair closer to me.
Would she think it was weird if I sniffed her hair? I was deciding that yes, she probably would, when she stepped away from me with a sigh. “See, this is what I mean. There was no emotion in that embrace.”
There had been more emotion than I’d expected, but I wasn’t about to admit that her performance had affected me that way.
“I think the idea is a good one,” she said, businesslike again. “But if we’re going to pull it off, you need practice. Maybe Claire could give you some pointers on acting and—”
“No,” I cut her off. “I am absolutely not going to practice hugging my sister or ask her for kissing pointers.”
Madeline waved away my protest with a flick of her hand. “I meant you could get acting tips in general.”
“Still not happening.”
Her hands went to her hips, and she sighed again. “Then we have to at least practice the kiss before we attempt it in front of my father. If we get it wrong, it will only make things worse.”
“What could we mess up? It’s a kiss.”
“The fact that you have to ask that question simultaneously worries me and makes me jealous because apparently you’ve never had any horrible kissing experiences.
The first kiss in rehearsal is always noticeably off.
You don’t know where to put your hands, you don’t want to intrude on someone else’s space, and you don’t know whether the pressure of your lips is enough.
It ends up looking unnatural. I’d never attempt a kiss onstage without a dress rehearsal.
” She put her hand to her chest. “Also, when I critique you, don’t take it personally. I’m only trying to help you improve.”
So little faith. “What is wrong with the guys in your drama class? Unless you’re a horrible kisser, I don’t need a dress rehearsal or a critique. I can prove it to you now.”
“You want to kiss me right now?”
“Yeah. I need to defend the honor of the non-drama-type guys who actually know how to kiss.”
“Cooper, you are so full of yourself—”
She didn’t finish because I pulled her into my arms. I didn’t hesitate this time. My lips came down on hers. I was proving a point. For one startled moment, she stayed still, then her actress persona kicked in, and she kissed me back.
Perhaps they taught kissing techniques in drama class because Madeline was good at this.
She started out slowly, tentatively, fluttering kisses against my mouth.
Her hands went to my shoulders, then one moved to the nape of my neck, twisting my curls through her fingers.
Clearly, we were aiming for a full-on Oscar-worthy kiss.
Instead of letting her go and telling her I thought our dress rehearsal was a success, I found myself pulling her closer. I had to show her that I could kiss just as well as she could, even without instruction from a drama coach.
I was done with the teasing kisses. I held her head in place while my lips pressed more urgently against hers. I had no idea how much time had passed and didn’t care.
“Whoa, Nash,” a voice—not far away—said. “Get a room.”
I jerked away from Madeline.
Henry, Jasper, Keoni, and three other guys from the team had walked around the side of the refreshment shack and were staring at us in various degrees of shock and amusement. What were they doing here?
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said.
Henry’s gaze traveled over us, disapproval seeping from his eyes. “Really? Because I was just thinking it looks like Dahlia is going to be upset.”
Jasper nodded in agreement, although he looked more amused than accusing. “To me, it looks like our homecoming date is going to be super uncomfortable.”
Madeline didn’t wait for more commentary. She turned, cheeks flaming, and without uttering a word, pushed past the guys. She headed back to the school, nearly running.
“Looks like your side chick is taking off,” Keoni said.
“There’s an explanation for this,” I said. Though I wasn’t sure I could give it.
Sherwin, one of the offensive linemen, was doing something on his phone, head down and laughing. “Girls on the rebound aren’t picky, right? Because I think it looks like Dahlia needs a date to homecoming.”
His phone made a swishing sound, indicating he’d sent a file.
My head jerked in his direction. “Dude, did you take a picture of Madeline and me? Did you just send it to Dahlia?”