Page 45 of The Facade

“Yes, you did,” I cut him off. “And if I’m going to make this re-do happen, I need to know what I’m doing. So I need to practice first.”

“And you want to practice with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You’re here and I’m desperate?” Did I need more of a reason than that?

Mack’s jaw dropped. “Should I be offended that you’d only kiss me out of desperation?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I hurried to say, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I don’t know.” I lifted my hands in the air. “I guess I figured that since we’re kind of friends, you might be willing to help me out with this.”

“Ooooh,” he said, drawing out the word. “So this is what friends do?”

“Sometimes.” I scrunched up my face. “I mean, out of all my friends, you probably have the most experience. So why not ask the pro?” Mack liked having his ego stroked, so I hoped the last part might help.

The smile I’d hoped he’d get at my flattery lifted his cheeks. “Oh, you think I’m a pro?” He brushed off his shoulders like he was proud.

“Well, I mean, I can’t really verify that statement unless you actually help me out,” I said, still not believing I was even saying any of this.

Since when did I ask Mack to kiss me?

Since I completely humiliated myself with my last kiss, apparently.

Mack seemed to study me for a moment, his dark-brown eyes narrowing as if he wasn’t sure I’d actually be up for a practice kiss with him.

And under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of asking him to do something like this. He’d always been Carter’s and Nash’s friend first—on a slightly different level from me that made him seem untouchable.

But we’d become closer the past several weeks. He’d opened up to me in ways he hadn’t opened up to the rest of our friends, and so he seemed like the right person to help me through this.

He wouldn’t judge me if I was really bad at kissing.

He’d be patient and make me feel safe.

Yes, he might have laughed when I told him what I’d done to Ben’s shirt, but he wouldn’t laugh at me for this. Because under his fun and outgoing exterior, there was a deep-feeling guy underneath.

A guy who would help out a friend without judgement.

And because of all those things, and because I really was desperate and had apparently left my pride back at the haunted house, I pushed my bottom lip into a pout and said, “Please, Mack. I really like him, and I don’t want three stupid seconds to have ruined everything.”

Mack must have understood that I was in fact desperate for him to save me because after a beat, he nodded slowly and said, “So you want me to French kiss you? Is that what you’re asking me to do?”

“I think so,” I said. “I mean, I guess? Like, that’s what I failed at fifteen minutes ago.”

“And you’re not going to bite my tongue off?” He arched an eyebrow like he thought it was a real possibility.

“I’ll be expecting it this time, so while I can’t make any promises, I’ll definitely try my best not to.”

“How reassuring.”

“Please,” I whispered, starting to feel deflated. “This is already humiliating enough.”

“Okay, fine,” he said. “But just so you know, I’m not exactly the ‘shove my tongue in a girl’s mouth from the get-go’ kind of kisser. There’s an art to this so…it might take a bit to work up to it.”

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