"This is worth more than my savings."

I choked back a laugh, shining the blue china bowl Holly had passed me. "This is worth more than my car."

She swung her eyes to the marble counter surrounding the double sink. "More than my parents' house."

"More than my parents' neighborhood."

Holly snorted, masking her giggle behind her brown hair.

"You know, you girls really don't need to do that." The Bennet's maid popped back into the kitchen, carrying an armful of porcelain plates. "Mrs. Bennet would have a heart attack if she saw her house guests doing the dirty work."

"Please." I waved a hand. "It's the least we can do. She hooked us up with a guesthouse and Harry Potter."

Sort of true. The full truth was that lunch with Mrs. Bennet was giving me flashbacks to lunch with my own mother. Not good ones.

James, Dex, and Noah had left early on Sunday morning for a game of golf with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet had kindly invited Holly and I to brunch with her and her church friends, an event that I had expected to be a relatively tame affair. But brunch turned into lunch which turned into afternoon tea which turned into cocktail hour. Before we knew it, it was almost five o'clock, and the guys still hadn't returned from the country club.

As much as I enjoyed my lazy afternoon with Holly, I couldn't help but wish we'd been invited out with the guys. That was no shade to James' mum, only ... Mrs. Bennet's friends were ... well, Mrs. Bennet's friends. They were basically carbon copies of my own mother—immaculately dressed, dripping in diamonds, shrill laughs that made you feel like they were judging you. They were the perfect candidates for a Real Housewives spin-off. And, when they weren't talking about themselves, their husbands, or their vacations in Europe, they were buzzing with questions for Holly and me—the shiny new things at their stuffy brunch table.

I'd spent all afternoon overthinking every one of my answers to their questions down to the letter. And it wasn't just fragments of my messy past that I was trying to conceal in those answers. Rather, for reasons that I couldn't quite explain, I really wanted Mrs. Bennet to like me.

Just as one cocktail was turning to two, Holly had subtly widened her eyes at me from across the table, and I caught on—to the fact that she, too, was uncomfortable with the constant attention. We'd retired to the kitchen as soon as we were sure we could get away, taking on the role of a makeshift cleaning crew.

She dunked another overpriced plate with blue flowers into the watery suds, drawing it out and handing it to me to dry. "Just think. This could all be yours one day."

I set it down to drain, throwing her a puzzled frown. She was grinning at me wryly, her eyebrows wiggling.

And, once again, I was reminded of James' lie. Once again, I'd have to lie, too.

I shook my head, entertaining a mirthless laugh. "I don't think so."

"You are a terrible liar, you know." Holly shoved some cutlery into a drawer. "Every time James' mom introduced you as his girlfriend, you babbled on and on about the most random things. I'm surprised no one saw through it."

I hid my face behind my hair.

Holly just giggled. "What happened with you two, anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

I racked my brain for a good enough story, an incriminating heat pricking my cheeks. Just like the night before, I felt my stomach tangling with nerves at the idea of having to lie again. Especially now that she knew my tells.

I turned my back, placing a dried dish in the cupboard to shield my anxiety. "Nothing, really. It just ... didn't work out."

"Come on. He must've done something."

That time, I didn't bother masking my confusion.

"For you to have broken it off," she clarified.

"What makes you think that I broke it off?"

She dumped a load of silverware into the sink, draining the latter to add fresh water. "Because he's clearly still into you."

Suddenly, that mild beating of my heart increased to double speed. But it wasn't the same panic that was twisting my stomach into knots. It was something lighter, more juvenile, a feeling that rippled through my chest and tugged my lips into a small smile.

A smile that I instantly swallowed.

It was ridiculous. Clearly. James was merely playing his part—and doing a better job of it than me.

I had to do better.

As if reading my mind, Holly paused her dishwashing to peer at me. Her eyes were narrowed beneath her thick brows, her tone slightly pointed. Inquisitive. "You guys are totally done, right? You're over him?"

I hated the way she was looking at me. Like she was seeing right through me. Like she was trying to convince me that I wasn't over James. Not that there was anything to be over.

I nodded fervently. "Totally."

She continued searching my gaze for a second longer, her lips curling upwards into a thoughtful grin. "Right."

An awkward silence fell over us, my heart still beating hard and fast from the adrenaline of it all. How on earth had she managed to turn the interrogation onto me, anyway? Wasn't I the one supposed to be interrogating her?

A light sparked in my head, a glaringly obvious subject change causing me to swivel around to face her with newfound excitement replacing my nerves.

"Oh my gosh!" I squealed. Her head bobbed up from the sink at the very un-Madison-like sound, and I clung onto the sleeve of her neon dress to draw her closer. "Dex! What happened with Dex? Did you ..."

Her wide honey eyes—not even seconds prior sparkling with innocent mischief—dimmed the slightest bit, the tiniest hint of worry flashing within.

Once again, my smile fell. Her grimace stole every ounce of my excitement, my stomach by now a permanent tumble-dryer of anxiety and dread.

That time, it was me asking the presumptuous question.

I sighed. "What did he do?"

I fluffed up my hair as I stormed across the lawn to the guest house, appraising my reflection in the screen of my phone to make sure my red gloss was still intact. It was still a few hours until dusk, but the daylight was mellow and golden, gilding my cheeks. I resisted the urge to hide in the corner and apply another coat of mascara, or touch up my powder, or fiddle with my loose curls.

Makeup had always been my mask. My way of expressing to the world that I was okay, that I was just as together on the inside as I looked on the outside. I learned how to contour after my dad passed. I completely reshaped my eyebrows after Elijah broke my heart. Whenever I felt as if the world could see more than I wanted them to, I put up a wall of foundation to keep them out.

So, if I needed to add a fresh layer of concealer or gloss in order to prove to the guys that I was okay in the aftermath of my daddy-issues revelation, to convince James that I was still the confident, assured, and collected Madison I pretended to be, then so be it. I'd add a flick of winged eyeliner, too.

The sun was starting to dim as adrenaline propelled me across the garden path, a reminder that it was almost time to head back to campus. But I utterly refused to do so unless I had something to write about for my project.

Something that wasn't a failed kissing attempt.

Dex waved at me from the window. They were back from golf. While I was relieved, I refrained from mirroring his smile. I could tell when his grin fell that he knew that something was wrong. And that he knew exactly what that something was.

"Madison!" he exclaimed as I barged through the door, his voice wavering the slightest bit. "Looking lovely as always."

Yeah. He knew.

"Where's Holly?" he tried again as I approached. Did he ... gulp?

"With Mrs. Bennet. She asked to take some cuttings from the greenhouse." I let my eyes wander around the lounge, throwing Noah a curt nod when he looked up from his phone to greet me. James was nowhere in sight. He was probably still with his dad. Not that it mattered.

"Oh, cool," Dex said. "She sells raisin potplants on Etsy. She paints them, and her sister grows all these different flowers and cacti that they..."

With one more look at my stern expression, Dex clamped his mouth shut. A second of strained silence passed, capturing even Noah's attention.

Dex grimaced. "You spoke to Holly."

"I spoke to Holly."

A dusting of pink heat was creeping over his cheeks. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jumper, a boisterous smile telling me that he was going to have one last stab at avoiding the looming conversation.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That's nice. I'm glad you two are friends."

I glared.

His smile fell.

"Dex?" I asked. "Do you even like this girl?" A valid question considering what Holly had just told me.

But Dex's whole face crumpled, his hands raised in front of him as if surrendering. "Of course! I wouldn't be wasting your time or dragging you around with us if I didn't. I swear."

I couldn't help but feel slightly stung by his words. It was stupid, of course. I knew that we weren't actually friends. That the guys were only hanging out with me because I was helping Dex.

Still. Ouch.

I folded my arms haughtily, pushing my unfounded feelings aside. Now was not the time to feel sentimental—not with my entire assignment on the line.

"Interesting. So why'd you reject her kiss?"

"You what?" Noah shrieked, so shocked that he completely discarded his phone.

Dex's eyes flittered between Noah and me while he stammered and stuttered, barely one comprehensible sound escaping his mouth. With a final shake of his head, he cried, "She told you that?"

"So it's true?"

"Why would she tell you that?" His cheeks were turning as copper as his sweatshirt, embarrassment flooding him as though I wasn't supposed to know the ins and outs of his dating life.

"Because," I exclaimed right back, "I'm the one who convinced her to do it in the first place!"

He gaped. "Well why in the bloody hell would you do that?"

"I thought that's what you wanted Dex! A relationship. And, generally, relationships involve kissing."

"But why did you tell her?" he asked. "And why didn't you give me a heads up?"

"I didn't want to freak you out. I thought, this way, it could be natural—"

"What made you think I'd freak out?"

I took a good, hard (and very pointed) look at him—his knitted brow, his wide, frightened eyes, his pale and almost ghostlike skin. "Jeez. I have no idea."

He relaxed his expression the slightest bit, tilting his head and throwing me a dry, "Ha-ha."

I couldn't help but laugh. But it quickly fell to a groan, low and desperate in my throat.

"Dex." I groaned, breaching the distance between us to shake him like he was a magic eight ball. Like he could give me a straightforward answer. Like he wasn't a stupid guy. "Why would you reject a kiss from your crush?"

"I just ... I mean ..." Dex's mouth was floundering again, his words overlapping each other as if he wasn't an English major after all. "I was nervous, okay? That would have been our first kiss, and I just ... I don't know how to do it, exactly. I mean, I get the concept, I just—"

"You've never kissed?" I near-squealed, reclaiming my hands as if he'd zapped me.

Dex's face turned redder than before. If that was even possible. He turned away to break my bewildered stare, moving toward the sofa nervously. "Of course I have! I just ... it never ... I don't know, okay? It never goes to plan."

"That's one way to put it," Noah muttered to himself.

I sighed, throwing Noah a look. "There is no plan, Dex. You just lean in, close your eyes. Melt into the moment—"

"And if your braces get stuck on hers?" he challenged me, his face completely drained of its vibrant red hue. "And you have to go to the emergency room—yeah, the emergency room—to get the wires uncrossed? Or what if you close your eyes too soon? End up banging heads so hard that she tells everyone in school that you gave her a concussion?"

My mouth fell open. I stole a glance at Noah, daring him to tell me that it wasn't true.

He was muffling a laugh with his hand.

"Or what if, just as things are heating up, your grandmother walks in looking for her cane?" Dex asked. "And you have to tell her you were practicing for the school play? But she knows that auditions aren't until spring—"

"Nuh-uh. Wait a minute." I frowned, one hundred images—and questions—whirling through my head. "There's no way all of that happened to you."

"That and more, Madison. That and more. I've been trying to tell you!" Dex folded his arms, pouting pitifully. "I'm unlucky in love."

I'll say.

"But that's all in the past, Dex." I hurried to him, taking his hands in mine. "We've all had a bad kiss. Or three."

He peered up at me sheepishly through his auburn curls, his brow furrowed self-consciously.

I gasped. "More than three?"

He threw back his head to groan, retrieving his hands. "See? I'm a lost cause. You're wasting your time—"

"Watson," a low voice drawled wryly. "We meet again."

I whirled. James was leaning against the wall bracketing the hall to the bedrooms, arms folded over his chest, his hair wet as if he'd just gotten out of the shower. Probably because he'd just gotten out of the shower.

The human brain is a thoroughly complex structure. And, for reasons that I couldn't begin to understand, the thought of James in the shower only moments prior—the abs I knew lingered under his damp shirt covered in nothing but streams of glistening water—was completely overpowering mine.

Funny. I always thought that number one of my college resolutions would be the hardest to stick to.

It took half a second for James to tune into the mood of the room. He propelled himself off the wall to brace his weight on the back of the sofa, his forearms tensing, those golden sunbeams finding and loving his corded, tanned skin—

I shook myself off. His corded, tanned skin was highly irrelevant.

James consult me, Dex, and Noah in turn. His lips curved into a small grin. "What's going on?"

Dex stood, indulging in his misery. "I've ruined everything."

"Oh. So nothing new, then."

I was far more committed to being helpful, a dose of confidence surging through my veins.

"What's going on," I informed them all, "is that we're about to teach Dex the art of the kiss."

James nodded his head towards Dex. "You told her about Macy Harbor's concussion, huh?"

"It wasn't a concussion!"

Noah, like me, was a little more committed to the cause. His eyes were still on mine through James and Dex's bickering, and he reached out to tug the latter down on the sofa next to him. "How are we going to do that? Teach him?"

My mind, overflowing with assurance seconds prior, came to a screeching halt.

How was I going to teach him? How does one even really learn how to kiss, anyway? Besides simple experience? Experience which, as far as Dex was concerned, was doing nothing but shaping him up to be a safety hazard.

And, really, was I even an expert in kissing? I'd only ever kissed a handful of guys in my life—one was Eli, one was the kid I'd dated one lunchtime in fifth grade. Both cheated on me. So the odds of me being great? Not great.

But there was still my assignment to think about. An assignment that relied on bringing Dex and Holly together before it could chart their relationship's inevitable demise. If they had any chance of moving forward, then they needed to kiss. Which meant that I needed to do more than fake confidence with a face full of makeup. I needed to act the part, too.

I angled my chin, popping my hands on my hips. "What if we watch some videos?"

James cocked his head, that tilted smile broadening. "What kind of videos?"  

My mouth dried out. He was flashing me that lopsided grin—the one that told me he was kidding around. But all it did was awaken that irritating and not at all helpful fluttering in my stomach.

"We could." Noah's eyes were narrowed in thought, his tone matter-of-fact. "But I think there's only one way to properly do this."

I turned back to him, a sprinkling of hope restored. Thank goodness for Noah. Smart, logical, reliable Noah.

"You need to show him yourself."

My smile fell, my hope uprooted. "No—"

I cut myself short, because it wasn't just me protesting.

Dex sprung up from the sofa, his face just as flushed as he shook it from side to side. Despite being equally as disgusted by Noah's suggestion, I found myself glaring at him, thoroughly insulted.

I pouted at him. "Hey!"

"Sorry, Madison. No offense. I mean you're very ..." Dex trailed off, his eyes moving to confer something to my left. They drifted back slowly, his lips contorting into a smile. Sort of. "It's just, you know. I'm trying to get with Holly, after all. I don't think we should—"

I shook my head. "No, I get it. Of course we can't kiss." My eyes flew back to Noah, widening pointedly when I found him beaming back at me. "It was a totally dumb idea."

Undeterred, he scoffed. "Not dumb. Clever. Besides..." He lay back lazily on his palms, cocking his head at me. "I wasn't talking about you and Dex."

I had to admit, kissing Noah wasn't high on my list of things to do before I died. Surprisingly, it wasn't on there at all.

I trod a little more carefully that time. "You think we should kiss?"

Noah's grin fell instantly, a cloud passing over his cheery brown eyes. "What? Ew! No!"

"Ew?"

"No, not ew," he tried to clarify, circling his hands around each other manically. He struggled to restore his warm smile, rising from the sofa to approach me with gentle hands. But they just hovered around me awkwardly, almost as if they were scared to land. Like I had leprosy or something. "It's just ... Madison, you're a girl."

Wow. Rejection was really hitting me from all sides.

"I wasn't suggesting that you kiss me. I was suggesting that you kiss James."