"I'm sorry, baby," I whisper softly as I run a hand through Liam's hair, looking down at his head as it rests in my lap. "I know you really wanted that position."

And I do know how badly Liam wanted to be lacrosse captain this year, the same as I know how badly Luke wanted the spot. Don't get me wrong, I'm still happy for Luke. But I'm upset for Liam, as well. I care about both boys, and I tend to feel whatever they're feeling when I'm around them.

Liam musters a smile as his eyes meet mine, feigning nonchalance. "It's whatever," he assures me, though I notice the conflicting gleam in his brown eyes. "I mean, there's still a chance I'll get a scholarship. And, if not, it's not like I'll have a problem paying my way into a university."

I know Liam isn't meaning to brag by saying this, but to simply state a fact. Just as I am a Montgomery and have wealthy parents, Liam is a Wellington. I also know that Liam's father wants him to go to Syracuse to follow in his footsteps, and his grandfather before him. So even if Liam doesn't manage to get a scholarship, I'm sure he'll end up at Syracuse anyway.

"Maybe this is a good thing," I murmur, hoping I'm not crossing a line by saying this. "I mean, is lacrosse really what you want to do with your college career? Or is it what your dad wants?"

Liam is silent for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. Sighing, he admits, "Maybe it's a little bit of both." I can tell by his expression that this conversation is one he doesn't want to continue. Liam quickly changes the subject by forcing a rueful smirk as he mutters, "I'm just pissed that I lost out to Luke Bradford. I mean, who worse to lose to?"

I roll my eyes, biting back a teasing grin. "I swear, you two act like you're eight. When is your stupid rivalry going to end?"

"Probably never," Liam retorts honestly, grinning up at me. He laces our fingers as he adds, "But I've got one thing Luke doesn't, and that makes me the ultimate winner."

Shaking my head, I ask, "And what's that?"

"You," Liam replies simply, brown eyes soft as they search my green. I know Liam is only trying to be sweet, but for a moment it feels as if I can't breathe. I've forgotten that Liam doesn't know that there was a point in time where Luke and I were close to being together. And if things then had gone the way I'd wanted them to, I'd likely be sitting here with a different boy.

I shake the thoughts to the side and force what I hope to be a realistic smile. "You thought that was smooth, didn't you?"

"Oh." Liam laughs, smirking. "I know it was smooth."

"Someone's cocky."

"Like you aren't thinking the same thing," Liam mumbles as he sits up. He shifts to face me, cupping my face in his hands. "I don't want to mope about not becoming team captain anymore," he tells me.

I raise my eyebrows, warding off a grin. "So . . . what do you want to do, then?"

Liam shrugs, his dimples making an appearance as he smiles. "I had something in mind . . ."

"And what would that be?" I prompt, merely waiting for his lips to meet mine. Liam gives me a knowing smile, his hands warm on my skin as he leans forward slowly. When he kisses me, his lips against mine is all I can think about.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear a voice whisper, All Luke had to do was hug you and it took your breath away more than this.

I immediately feel guilty for the thought. Not because I regret it (though I do), but because . . . it's true.

And I'm not sure how to feel about that.

»»----- -----««

I'm sitting at my desk studying for an algebra test I have the following day, bored out of my mind. I can't seem to concentrate on what I'm doing, which is frustrating. It's as if the numbers on the pages before me are floating around, taunting me for not understanding the problems.

With a sigh, I close my notebook, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to calm down. Math has never been my strong suit, and I could probably use a tutor if I were being honest. But my pride often comes before my needs, and just the thought of admitting I need help from someone else embarrasses me. I could always go to Kendall—the girl is a genius, even if she's a blonde—but I can already imagine the way she'd smirk at me, and immediately disregard the idea.

I rise from my chair, realizing as I pass my window that it's gotten dark outside. I glance at the clock on my nightstand to find that it's already six. I'm surprised, as it'd been four when I sat down. I guess I got more studying done than I thought.

I return to my desk and gather my things, deciding that there is no way I'm going to stress over any more math problems tonight. I set my things inside of my bag, then set my school uniform neatly over the back of my chair.

I wander over to my window to draw the curtains, though hesitate before pulling them closed. Because I can see Luke. In his room. Working out by his window. Without a shirt on.

And I thought he looked good before . . .

The sound of my door opening scares me shit-less, and I scramble to close my curtains before I can be caught in the act of staring at my neighbor. I shut them so forcefully I end up getting tangled in the material, turning to find Kendall watching me suspiciously. I try to pose nonchalantly by resting my arm in midair like I'm leaning against something, which only makes me lose my balance. I end up falling toward the ground with a curtain wrapped around one of my legs. I rush to sit up, my hair now a mess and all in my face.

"Do you know how to knock?" I hiss, grateful that my hair hides my burning cheeks.

Kendall eyes me skeptically, glancing down at my right leg, which is suspended in the air by my curtains. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing!" I cry too quickly. "Being totally normal! Definitely not staring at Luke!"

Kendall shoots me an amused smirk. "So . . . you were staring at Luke?"

My gaze falls toward the ground (which is only inches from my face) in shame. "Yes," I mumble incoherently. "I was staring at Luke."

Kendall rolls her eyes and scoffs, acting like this conversation is beneath her. She wrinkles her nose at me as I find my footing, finally standing upright and smoothing the wrinkles out of my shirt.

"Is that what you're wearing?" she asks. I frown down at my t-shirt and exercise shorts, feet clad with socks.

"I guess." I shrug. "Why?"

"The Bradford's are coming over for dinner tonight, Jade," Kendall snaps. "Oh my God, it's been on the family calendar for weeks! Must I tell you everything?"

"Shoot! I forgot!" I hit my palm against my forehead, unable to believe myself. I turn to face my mirror defiantly, frowning thoughtfully at my reflection. "I think I look fine," I mutter, catching sight of Kendall rolling her eyes at me in the background.

"Whatever. They're going to be here in, like, ten minutes. Mom wanted me to tell you to come downstairs."

"I'll be down in a minute," I tell Kendall as she heads for my door, tuning back to my mirror. Maybe I'll just brush my hair . . . And put on a little mascara . . . And maybe some concealer . . .

I rush down the stairs five minutes later, only to have my mother gasp at my appearance. "Jade!" she snaps with a glare. "We're having company!" Before she can tell me to go change, which I'm sure is what she's planning to say next, the doorbell rings.

Smirking in my mother's direction, I rush to the door. "I've got it!" My parents don't have a chance to stop me before I'm opening the front door, greeting the Bradford's with a smile.

"Hello, Jade!" Mrs. Bradford exclaims, blue eyes shining as she offers me a grin. "So nice to see you again!" She leans forward to give me a hug, which I don't hesitate to return.

I invite the Bradford's inside, watching as the adults converse in the foyer.

Alissa proceeds to walk in, enveloping me in a tight, vanilla-scented hug. "Hey!" she chirps, beaming. The two of us talk for a moment before Alissa excuses herself to greet Kendall, because she's too nice not to.

I turn to Luke then, as he is the last to enter. For a moment, it feels awkward—not because of our history, but because I can't stop thinking about him without his shirt on. Then Luke offers me a faint smile, and I try to shake the thought from my mind.

"Hi," I say, almost breathlessly. I close the front door behind Luke as he enters the foyer, turning back around to find Luke smirking ruefully as he blatantly stares at my chest.

"Nice shirt." Luke tugs on the hem of my I can do it better t-shirt, which helps clear up the whole staring at my chest thing.

I blush, trying to remember why I didn't change when I had the chance.

"Oh, about that." I clear my throat, nervous under the head of Luke's gaze. "This is just a shirt I sleep in."

"Well, then." Luke's smirk sets me on edge for some reason. His gaze meets mine, a dangerous gleam shining in his eyes. He takes a small step toward me, too close for comfort as he leans his face downward to mine. His mouth is right next to my ear as he whispers, "I'm sure you could." And with that, he pulls away, turning to face his father and join in the men's conversation.

Only minutes later, I'm seated at the dinner table next to Kendall. Across from her sits Alissa, and next to her is Luke. The parents are placed at the other end of the table, engaged in boring business conversations.

It's rather quiet on my side of the table.

"Uh, could you pass the salt?" I direct my question at Alissa, though it's Luke who leans toward her plate to grab the salt shaker. I share a glance with him as he extends the glass ornament to me, which I hesitate to take. Our fingers brush as I do, his touch a jolt of electricity on my skin.

"Thank you," I manage to say, the words oddly hard to choke out.

Luke shoots me a smirk I know all too well. "You're welcome."

Kendall gives me a confused glance, no doubt noticing the way mine and Luke's gazes linger on the other. Even Alissa seems to notice, as she stiffens in her seat and raises her eyebrows at her plate.

"Guess who's going to the Volleyball State Championships this year?" Alissa says after a moment to break the silence that has since enveloped our side of the table.

"Really?" I gasp in excitement, grinning. "That's great, Alissa! When do you play?"

"The end of this month," she reveals nonchalantly. "I think the twentieth."

"Then I know exactly what I'll be doing the twentieth," I tease. "Sitting front row in the bleachers, cheering you on so loudly you'll be embarrassed."

Alissa rolls her eyes as Luke sets a hand on her shoulder, saying, "That makes two of us, sis."

I bite down on my lip, trying to remember the last time I was around Luke and he was so . . . nice. What he says to Alissa is actually rather sweet.

He must sense me staring at him, because Luke suddenly glances up. Our gazes lock, and for a moment all I'm aware of is his eyes on mine. Almost shyly, I offer him a smile. Shocking me, Luke doesn't hesitate to return the gesture.

"My championship isn't the only family celebration going on," Alissa murmurs. "Luke just found out he's captain of the lacrosse team!"

"Congratulations!" Kendall exclaims, her excitement genuine. It's pretty obvious that my sister has a slight crush on Luke, but it's not like I can blame her.

Luke smiles modestly just as his father looks up from across the table, pride evident in his expression as he beams at his son.

"You know, back in the day," Mr. Bradford says to Luke, "I was captain of the football team. It's a little different from lacrosse, but the responsibility is the same. Plus, the girls love a team captain."

Luke rolls his eyes at his dad's joke, though he's grinning in a way I've never seen him before. I can tell that his father's praise must be rare, and I don't blame him for enjoying it in the moment. I can't remember the last time my parents tried to uplift me in the slightest.

"Seriously though, son. I'm proud of you." It seems as if Mr. Bradford isn't just talking about Luke becoming team captain. The two share a moment, and I'm afraid that just the action of me breathing will disrupt it.

Luke actually blushes as he glances down at his plate. It's incredibly cute, how he appears when he's embarrassed.

"And I'm proud of you, too, Alissa," Mr. Bradford turns ho his daughter, his grin unwavering. "Volleyball Championships? Crazy!"

"Both of our children are wonderful," Mrs. Bradford concludes, expression full of love as her gaze drifts over to Luke and Alissa. "Now, stop embarrassing them, Ben!"

Mr. Bradford chuckles heartily, sipping from his champagne. "All right, all right. I get it. I'm just the embarrassing dad."

"You know, our Kendall isn't doing too bad academically, either," my mother interrupts, because if a conversation isn't about her in some way, shape, or form, I'm pretty sure she loses her mind. With a pristine smile that only reveals how much facial work my mother has gotten done over the years, Mom turns to her favorite daughter. "I was talking to a few of her teachers, and they're so impressed with her grades and extracurricular activities, they're thinking of nominating her to the top of her class."

Kendall beams from her seat, not one to ignore the spotlight when it falls on her.

"That's great, Kendall!" Mrs. Bradford cries gleefully, much too polite to say anything. The adults begin to praise my sister, rambling on about how she got an A on her junior project and how she likes to spend her free time volunteering at nursing homes. I sit and awkwardly stare at my plate, though my appetite is long gone.

"What about you, Jade?" Mrs. Bradford questions, because I guess even adults get tired of talking about Kendall sometimes. "How's your school year going?"

I shift in my seat uncomfortably. I'd been hoping I would be skipped over as a part of this conversation, as that's what normally happens. By the way my mother is frowning down at the table cloth, I can tell she's thinking the same thing.

I rack my brain for something to say to Mrs. Bradford, though can't come up with anything. If I'm being honest, I haven't done much with my school year. Besides throw myself into some sort of love triangle with Crestwood's Prince and Second in Command, that is. All I've done so far is worry about boys and fail algebra quizzes, and that realization suddenly hits me hard.

I finally manage to stutter, "Oh, it's . . . you know. Going."

When I make the mistake of looking up, I find Kendall smirking in her seat next to me. Even Alissa's gaze is sort of pitied, as if she feels bad for me. I can't help feeling embarrassed.

Luke clears his throat, the sound startling me. "Stop being so modest, Jade," he says, looking over at me like he knows something I don't. I'm not quite sure what he's getting at when he adds, "Don't worry. You won't be bragging."

Confused, I shoot Luke a glance to ask what he thinks he's doing.

Wearing an easygoing smile, Luke turns to the adults. "Jade here got a nearly perfect score on the P-SAT this year. Seriously, it was impressive. I almost came in second to her. She only missed two questions."

My jaw drops. I know exactly what score I got on the P-SAT, and it was far from perfect. I missed a rather good amount of questions. And everyone at Crestwood Academy knows that coming second to Luke Bradford is a big deal, as the boy is practically a genius. Of course, it was Liam who had the second best score on the P-SAT this year.

So why is Luke telling everyone otherwise?

Luke shoots me a glare that seems to say go with it, urging me on. That's when I notice the shocked expression my mother wears, and it's not a bad sort of shock, either.

"Is he kidding, Jade?" Mom questions. "I'm so surprised! Why on earth would you keep something like that from us?"

"Oh, I um . . . You know . . ." I trail off, stumbling over my words.

"How impressive!" Mrs. Bradford exclaims. "Good job, Jade!"

"I always knew you had it in you," Dad says, surprising me. He glances at me and he almost looks . . . proud.

Next to me, Kendall stiffens in dismay, clearly bummed that the spotlight is no longer centered on her. I find myself wondering why Luke would say such a thing in the first place, why he did this at all.

I turn to him, expression one of confusion. Luke merely plays along, and I'm surprised by how good of an actor he is. He simply smiles at me like he's slightly stunned I could ever come second to him in such a thing. Which is exactly the reaction he should have, if any of this was real.

It then hits me: Luke Bradford just saved me from my own humiliation. And I have no idea why he would do such a thing.

But I intend to find out.

I rise from my seat, grabbing my plate and reaching for Luke's. Luke glances up as if to say I wasn't done with that, but I ignore him and begin to collect the other plates.

"You know!" I say much too loudly, grinning in my mother's direction. "I think you should start the tea in the living room. Wouldn't want it to get cold!"

"Why, tea would be lovely!" Mrs. Bradford agrees, much to my benefit.

"Well, okay then . . ." Mom seems skeptic, shooting my father a confused glance.

"Don't worry about the plates," I say as I grab my mother's. "Luke and I will take care of them. Won't we, Luke?"

"Well, I—"

"I said: Won't we, Luke?" I repeat through gritted teeth, shooting Luke a glare. He then swallows hard, nodding as he rises from his seat.

"Yeah, we've got the dishes," Luke mumbles, joining my side.

I give my sister my best, most dazzling smile as I suggest, "Why don't you show Alissa the renovations to the basement? I'm sure she'd love to see the movie theater."

Alissa's blue eyes light up. "You guys have a movie theater?"

"Yeah," Kendall mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she stands. "Come on, I guess I'll show you."

I'm sure my behavior is coming off as weird, but I really want to get everyone out of the kitchen so I can have the chance to talk to Luke. Alone.

My father rises as well, turning to Mr. Bradford with a casual smile. "I've got bourbon in the office. Why don't we talk over a glass?"

"Deal," Mr. Bradford agrees. And just like that, the kitchen is empty besides myself and Luke.

"Why don't you let me help you with those?" Luke suddenly asks, causing me to flinch. I look down, realizing I have eight plates stacked in my arms. Thinking about it now, they're kind of heavy.

In response, I sniff. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you," I say to him, turning on my heel and walking toward the kitchen sink. I turn a little too sharply however, and the glass plates rattle in my arms as I just barely avoid tripping.