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 mycurls 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 reboundaren’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?”
He slipped his phone in his pocket and grinned. “Slimeball move on your part, Nash. Who knew that two-timing was one of your faults?” He shrugged. “Guess it won’t be a secret anymore.”
“I will kill you.” I fully intended to hurt him. I wasn’t even sure what made me angrier: Dahlia freaking out that I’d kissed Madeline, or Madeline freaking out that a picture of us kissing would make its way around the school.
Jasper and Henry stepped in my way, blocking me from Sherwin. Each grabbed hold of my arms and pushed me back.
“Don’t do it,” Henry said. “The last thing we need is for our quarterback to be suspended.”
I stopped trying to get to Sherwin. He lifted his chin and spread his arms out in a “go ahead and try it” gesture. But Henry was right. Sherwin had done enough damage. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of getting me suspended.
I shook out my shoulders and glared at him. “Give me your phone so I can delete the photo.”
“Not a chance,” Sherwin said.
