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Lottie laughs, big and loud. “Uh, yeah. Of course they do.”

“What do you mean? Is it my hair? It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

I pluck a tendril of my natural curls and stretch it straight to watch it pop back up again.

“No, your hair is perfect—unlike my current situation.” Lottie puffs air up to her bangs and they branch out across her eyebrows. “I meant of course they look through you, Knox is always standing right beside you. No guy is going to come up and ask you out when your guard dog is glaring at them.”

“Knox doesn’t glare at anyone,” I defend.

“Oh, he doesn’t? Ask how he feels about Tommy Kilgore.”

Tommy? “The guy I tutored last spring?”

Lottie nods mischievously. “Why do you think Knox offered to walk you to the library every day for an entire semester even though it made him late for his classes?”

“Because he walks me everywhere.”

It’s never really made sense time wise, as we’re both frequently late, but it’s also never been a thing we’ve stopped to question long enough to consider not going together. It’s as natural as breathing at this point: Wherever I go, Knox goes too.

Lottie grins. “Whatever you say, Flick. Regardless, if you’re wanting to get kissed, there’s a bonfire at Ledger’s tonight. Surely someone there will be cute enough for you to get alone and get the job done.”

My stomach curls at the thought. As much as I love the bonfires that Ledger hosts year-round, thinking about finding some random person and sneaking off to kiss them… “No.” I shake my head. “I want it to mean something. I want butterflies and chemistry and sparks. I want a rainy confession kiss or a quiet, drive-in movie kiss. I want more than sparks—I want full-on grand finale fireworks. I want it to be so big and over the top that Edith ends up calling the cops for bomb explosions.”

“Hmm.” Lottie shakes her drink and takes a sip. “Then we need some more time. This is going to require some prep on both sides. You’ve never been on a date or even held hands with a boy—”

“Say it a little louder, would you?”

“Sorry, just facing the facts so we can do this right. We need to lay a serious foundation here if we’re wanting some grand finale fireworks.”

“Okay.” I nod and pull out my phone to open a notes app. “Keep talking.”

“You need a dating coach, and one who knows exactly what they’re doing.”

I type her thoughts down—she is the expert after all, who am I to argue?

“A dating coach?”

“Of course.” She nods with a finger on her chin, pacing her room wall to wall. “We need someone that’s unattached and experienced enough to give solid feedback—”

“Feedback?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just like me coaching Kit. If I didn’t have the experience to give him riding advice, he would get thrown off in half a second.”

Hm, I guess so.

“Ohh.” Lottie stops in place. “You know who would be really great at this?”

“Who?”

“Ledger! He dates so often, so casually, it really wouldn’t be a big deal to him, and he has more than enough experience to give you some tips and pointers. Plus, you don’t really find him cute, do you?”

Ledger’s a nice guy. Very nice considering he is regularly painted as Oak Ridge’s nefarious rule breaker. He’s tall, with dark hair and pale skin. He’s funny, too, but never as funny as Knox. Regardless, I don’t know if I have a type, but if I did, it would not be a lothario cowboy.

“He’s cute, but no, not my type.”

“Exactly, so there’s no risk of getting attached.”

My lips purse in a hum, and I try to picture the possibility of even pretending to date Ledger and it seems…awkward. What would we even have in common? He spends all his time riding bulls and chasing girls and the latest thrill, whereas I’m either at the shelter, my home, or Knox’s house.