A cry of celebration disrupted the quiet. I quite literally jolted from my daze, causing the siren in my lap to jump with a start as well.

The kids on Holly's porch had finally broken through the last of the piñatas, the colorful contents of streamers and sweets exploding from the plaster and tumbling to the ground.

When I turned back to Madi, she'd turned back around, too. Her eyes were back down on her plate as she carefully spooned the contents into her mouth.

It was over. The moment brewing between us was over. It was a second. A flash. And, like every single one before it, it became nothing but a memory.

An almost.

I shook my head to myself as reality crashed through fantasy. Because there was no way in hell that I could have kissed her. Not after I'd promised her that I wouldn't. Not after I'd promised her that I wouldn't do anything like that until she gave me the go-ahead. Until she gave me her word that she was ready for what would inevitably come after.

Moments like that one—moments that were far more common than I could handle—threatened to undermine my resolve. They threatened to turn me into the kind of man that I resented. But I couldn't lose myself to them. I couldn't forget the kind of person that I wanted to be.

For her.

"Hey?" Madi spoke again, framing the word as a question.

"Hey," I repeated, my breath hitting the exposed part of her neck.

She altered her position, moving further back than she'd dared to sit before. I had to ball my hands in order to redirect the energy concocting inside of me, the feeling of where exactly that girl had chosen to sit excruciatingly good in an excruciatingly inappropriate setting.

She placed a hand on my thigh to steady herself, and I swear I almost died. "Do you want to come for a walk?"

I couldn't think. I couldn't move. "A walk?"

She nodded innocently. Too innocently, considering how sinfully I was peering back at her. "To see the lights."

I loved being with Madi. Truly, I did. But, to be completely honest, I needed this moment to end.

Now.

"I thought Dex was going with you?" I asked, nodding in his direction.

Madi's eyes—wide and alert—flashed like a bolt of lightning across the evening sky. Her smile twitched in the corners, falling until it settled into a straight line.

Just like at the bonfire the night before, it made me feel like I'd said something wrong.

"Right." Within a second, she'd risen to her feet. Within a second, I was no longer nailed to my chair. "Dex?" she asked, reaching over and hoisting him up, too.

And then they were gone. Then, all that was left of her was the empty plate she'd left at my feet, a relic of a moment that my mind was too cloudy to interpret past the fact that it almost killed me.

I was quiet as I watched them join a herd of others at the top of the drive. Whatever that light display was, it must have been a big deal, and a part of me felt an urge to join them as they paraded up the street.

But Madi hadn't asked me. Not really.

Actually, she'd asked Dex first.

A foreign feeling stirred in my stomach. One that I couldn't quite put my finger on. But it drove me to meet Noah's inquisitive eye line, matching the tilt of his head with one of my own.

"They're pretty close," I said casually. At least, I hoped I sounded casual.

Clearly, I didn't. Not if the way Noah's eyebrows flew to the dark sky was any indication. "Dex and Madi?" he asked.

I nodded, peeling my gaze from his and down to my drink. "Like ... do you think—"

"Stop."

I looked back up at him, eyes wide and brow furrowed. "What?"

"Whatever this is," he clarified, waving his hands at me like I was on fire. "Stop. Immediately."

"I'm not—"

"Yeah," he snapped. "You are. You are, and you need to not."

I raised my hands in the air defensively, signaling that I was indeed stopping whatever it was that I was supposed to be stopping.

But if insinuating that Madi was into Dex was what I was supposed to be stopping, then no, I didn't stop that.

"They are going on a romantic stroll through town together," I informed him plainly, my voice taking on a sing-song quality that was supposed to sound humorous.

But Noah didn't laugh. Noah jolted forward in his seat, his expression pained as though I'd slapped him. "A romantic stroll that she just asked you to go on!"

"She was being nice."

"Yeah," he scoffed, masking a dry laugh. "Because our Madi is renowned for saying things she doesn't mean just to be nice." He jabbed a finger into the air, pointing to the top of the drive. "That was an invitation, you moron."

"I know that—"

"No, you don't. An invitation, James. An in-vi-ta-tion."

"Why are you talking like that? I'm not deaf."

Noah didn't answer me straight away. Rather, he fell silent, a variety of expressions washing over his face.

First, he looked thoughtful.

Then, he looked intrigued.

And, finally, he looked as though he'd solved every puzzle in the universe.

"No. Not deaf," he confirmed lowly. "You're dumb."

I rolled my eyes, moving them back to the derelict piñata. "Well, that's just not true."

"No, James." He shook his head, making absolutely no effort to soften his candor. "I think you're stupid or something. Did you hit your head on the way up here?"

An equally cutting quip was right on my tongue, but I didn't get a chance to fire it back at him.

"What color were Mila's bra straps?"

My neck snapped as I whipped around to gawk at him, my mouth hanging open while outrage crumpled my features. "What?"

"They kept falling down her arm and she kept pulling them up again, adjusting her bra every single time," he informed me. "In fact—here's a fun little game. Let's guess her cup size!"

"What the hell?" I lowered my voice and swept my eyes around the drive, hoping and praying that none of Mila's family were in earshot. Especially not that burly trio of cousins I'd spotted during the procession earlier. "Are you drunk? Is everyone except me drinking tonight?"

The macho expression fell from Noah's face, replaced by one dripping in mischief. One that felt incredibly pointed and confusing all at the same time, that had me feeling as exposed as I'd felt when Madi had been sitting on my lap.

"You have it bad, Jay. Like, you have it bad bad."

I nodded. "Drunk."

But, suddenly, Noah wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. "You can deny and you can deflect, but that doesn't change the fact that you still like her. That you can't stop thinking about her and looking at her. Hell, do you even realize how awkward this whole road trip has been for Dex and me? All stolen glances and sexual tension?"

His words hit me like an avalanche, sending fire to my cheeks and a concoction of outrage and embarrassment to my stomach. "Do you realize how hard it's been for me?"

"So, get on with then! Go for it! Make a move, Danny Zuko."

I stared at him, mouth agape, feeling a frown pull at my features at his lack of tact.

"I've spent three months swiping left and right, going on bad first dates and kissing more frogs than I can handle," he recounted, and I couldn't stop myself from grunting in agreement. "Meanwhile, you have everything that you want right in front of you. Literally right over there, begging you to take her on—what was it? 'A romantic stroll through town'? And look at you! You're letting her walk away with someone else."

I threw my arms in the air and shook my head, leaning back into my chair in defeat before I said something that I regretted.

What Noah said made sense. Of course it did. It was essentially the same thing that Dianna had said. Take the plunge, James. Take the leap.

But I did jump. I jumped and Madi jumped, but she'd been wearing a wire. She flew right back up again, leaving me at the bottom of a cliff with nothing to do but wait for her to return.

And her return wasn't even guaranteed. It was about time that I accepted that. She didn't owe me anything. She never had.

"I did. I told her how I felt." I swirled the last of my drink before I downed it, hoping it would serve as a distraction from the hurt snaking around my throat. "No, I did more than that. I threw myself at her, Noah. I told her, 'When you're ready, I'm here'. So, maybe—"

"Maybe what?" he interjected, lurching forward in a way that suggested he already knew what I was going to say.

"Maybe ..." I waved a hand about as if to draw my insinuation in the air. It was a thought that'd crossed my mind more often than not lately, but just thinking about saying it aloud hurt too much. I forced myself to exhale, pushing out my words with jagged breath. "Maybe ... I don't know, maybe this is ... it."

"What's it?"

I shrugged, contemplating the best way to explain things. "You see her now," I reminded him. "She smiles. She makes jokes that aren't self-deprecating. She's ... happy. Right?"

Noah blinked, his gaze devoid of its playful edge. It was soft and conflicted, pooling with a kind of uncertainty that mirrored mine. "I think so."

"Right." I nodded, feeling some sense of satisfaction in the fact that he was agreeing with me and ignoring the sting of what that meant. "But she's still not here." I motioned lazily to the spot beside me, even though what I meant was more metaphorical than physical. "She's not here, Noah. Even though I told her I would be."

"Maybe she's scared, Jay."

"No." A bittersweet smile pulled at my mouth. Madi wasn't scared. She was wild. She was impulsive. That night when fire met gasoline was still so fresh in my mind. When Madison Watson wanted something, she went after it. She begged for it. She'd do anything to make it hers.

Hope melted into dread as I realized what that meant. Because if Madi was so happy now that she could forgive Lola and Holly—hell, maybe even forgive Elijah in some turn-the-other-cheek kind of way—then the fact that she hadn't said anything to me, that she still hadn't made me hers, was evidence enough that she didn't want to anymore.

Would that kind of proof stand up in court? No. Probably not. But on the balance of probabilities, it made for a pretty strong case.

"It's not going to happen." My throat had become too dry for the ponche to save it, so dry that it was hard to swallow without feeling like I'd choke. "Her and me. Us. It's over."

It was only in that silence that I realized how quiet Noah had become. Noah was rarely quiet. He literally always had something to say.

When he did speak, his tone was sharp and combative. "That's it?" he practically spat at me, his words like daggers laced with poison. "You're just—what? You're going to make her decision for her? Without even asking her first?"

"Come on ..."

"No." Noah scowled—a look so fierce and foul that it was as if I'd murdered Rudolph. He pointed his finger at me, stabbing it in my direction like a miniature sword. "You come on. God, I thought that you of all people were better than that."

I felt an urge to throw my hands in the air, to surrender to his attack due to the ferocity of it all. Why was he looking at me like I was the bad guy? Why, when I was trying so hard to do the right thing despite every part of me screaming to do the opposite?

"She's tough," I tried to explain. "You know her. She's not scared of anything. Not anymore at least. She goes after what she wants. She's wild and fast and she doesn't think first—"

"Madison?" he screeched. "You're talking about our Madison?"

I waved a hand dismissively. "You don't know her the way I do. If she wanted us—if she wanted me—then she would have me by now. I gave my opening statement, it's up to her to close. And she knows that—"

"Don't get all lawyer-y with me, man—"

"I'm not!" I said, my voice beginning to rise. It was my turn to be firm. To stop hope right in its dangerous tracks. "I can't ruin our friendship, Noah. Not by being selfish. I won't do it. If this is her way of letting me down gently, then I have to accept that."

That was the crux of everything, the root of why I couldn't jump again. I wouldn't push Madi. I would never do anything to make her feel uncomfortable. Even if it killed me. And by the way that my heart thrashed in my ribcage when she'd sat down on top of me, I was beginning to think that I'd be six feet under pretty darn soon.

Still, through it all, I knew that Madi and I had a pretty good thing going. Sure, I wanted her. All of her. I wanted her to want all of me. But she was my best friend. My source of comfort. A smile when I was down and a light in the dark. I couldn't risk losing that.

I wouldn't.

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

I glanced up at Noah again, horrified by the idea. "No!" I shot, running a hand down my face before groaning into my palm. "God, no. What, like, 'Hey, Madi, you know that guy we're friends with? Do you like him?' No. That's very third grade."

"I'm pretty sure that third graders communicate better than you two do."

I removed my hand to throw him a sharp look.

He ducked his head sheepishly, and I was glad to see that some of the fire had extinguished from his gaze. "I'm sorry."

I grumbled lowly, reaching down to pick up the plate that Madi had long since left at my feet. Her fork was resting elegantly in the middle, a piece of plastic that taunted me as though it was ancient history.

I started to rise from my chair, heading for the trash can on the porch. But Noah rose with me, and his hand quickly found my arm.

"I say this because I care about you." He put pressure on my shoulder, daring me to turn around. Daring me to meet his kind but firm stare. "You're a martyr, and you don't have to be."

"That's not—"

"Stop trying to convince yourself that you don't deserve her."

I shook my head. He still didn't get it. "That's not what I'm doing."

Noah sighed in a way that suggested he thought that I didn't get it.

"Trust her, James. Trust her to be strong enough to protect her own heart."

The journey from Camden to Holly's hometown had been a mirage of red tail lights and highway signs, the smell of gas and smoke filling the frosty air. But as we journeyed further toward the mountains that night, the traffic began to dissipate. Cities turned to towns. Civilization became sparser, the world outside dark without buildings and traffic to illuminate it.

It was still at least another day's ride to the resort, and usually, I was grateful at this point of our trip. But this time, part of me never wanted our trip to end. Part of me wanted to stay in that car with Madi forever, as though as soon as the door opened, she would race out into the snow without even a passing glance back.

It was stupid. I knew she'd always be my friend. Madi didn't abandon people. She actually stood by them fearlessly, sometimes even to her own detriment. But I always feared that she would find someone else one day. Someone new. At this time of the year, the resort was packed to the rafters with both.

"Fence?" Noah asked, cutting through my musing.

"Fields?" Madi yawned, her voice lower and quieter.

Dex smiled triumphantly. "You're getting closer ..."

I think we were supposed to be playing a car game to help keep me awake as I drove, but I'd honestly zoned out a good while ago. My friends were cramped together in the back, tucked into a checked blanket and using each other as pillows. Madi had shifted her body so that she was resting on her palm, peering up at Dex lazily while he took his turn.

I've never been jealous of Dex. Really, jealousy wasn't my thing. I guess I'd never had a reason to be jealous before. But the way that girl was looking at him, with adoration and tired captivation threading her soft features—yeah. That seemed to do the trick.

Her lids were droopy underneath her thick lashes. A tired smile lined her lips, suggesting that she, too, had grown weary of our friends' game. But despite her clear exhaustion, she was making more of an effort than I was to engage. She wouldn't be the first one to bring the fun to an end.

She hated the idea of disappointing people.

"Farms," I said. Not a guess. A statement.

Dex's head snapped up from Madi's face. He found my reflection in the rear-view mirror and glared at it. "How do you always do that?"

I shrugged plainly. "Just clever, I guess." I shot Noah a knowing look in reply to his earlier insult, but he only rolled his eyes before looking away to stare out the window.

"There's a reason why I call him Holmes, you know."

My eyes were bouncing between the road and the mirror so quickly that they might as well have been yo-yos. But how could I resist tracing over the smirk decorating Madi's mouth? How could I resist matching it with one of my own?

"You always were the better detective," I replied.

Without skipping a beat, she said, "True."

I caught my smile before it pulled too far.

"You're up, James," Noah said at the same time as his phone pinged. A notification from Tinder or Grindr or whatever new app he was trying out today, no doubt.

I cast my eyes on my GPS as the road forked. I'd taken this trip so many times, but the cover of night was interfering with my bearings. It'd never taken us this long to get to the resort before. In all fairness, we'd never had a reason to take so many pitstops. Never before had Noah been so adamant about checking off every meager thing on some stupid list.

I felt my knuckles harden around the steering wheel. I knew what he was doing with that list. With that theory.

And I didn't like it.

"I think we should call it a night," I suggested. "It's getting late. You should all try to get some sleep—"

I never got to finish that sentence.

In the flash of an eye, my voice was lost to the screeching of rubber on asphalt.

Bright, white strobes from an oncoming car broke the cover of night.

The four of us lurched forward as my car veered to the left, then collapsed back into our seats as if we'd been thrown with force.

My heart was thumping, my breath was shallow and fast. But through the horns blaring around us and the brightness obstructing my vision, I knew that it was up to me to keep everyone safe.

That was the singular thought running through my mind as one last strobe drowned me in never-ending light.

Keep her safe.