I quickly shoved the camera back in my backpack and zipped it up. “Don’t tell him.”

“Which part am I not telling him about?” Micah asked with an innocent smile. “That?” She pointed to the bag. “Or that?” She pointed to my face, and I could feel my blush.

“Please,” I said, and grabbed a mascara tube from Micah’s makeup stash and turned toward the mirror.

“Come in,” Micah sang out.

Andrew poked his head around the door. “I was told this was where the party was.”

I laughed, even though his statement wasn’t funny at all. Crap. Micah wouldn’t have to say a word about anything—I was going to give myself away all on my own.

He couldn’t know I liked him yet. Not with him leaving in six weeks and me having no idea at all how he felt about me.

His eyes flickered to me. “Sophie Evans,” he said. “My maze partner. Nice shirt.”

I looked down at my long-sleeved tee, which was navy blue with little bumblebees all over it. Then I said, “I can get you one.”

He stepped all the way into the room. “Does it come in turtleneck form? I only wear my tight shirts in that style.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t tempt me,” I said.

He shrugged. “You’re the one who offered.”

I studied him from where I sat. Andrew Hart was handsome. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that before. I mean, I had noticed it the first day I met him. But personality always played a bigger role for me, and the more I got to know him, the more his looks had faded. But somewhere in the last couple of months—maybe it was sitting watching fireworks through a hole in the roof during July Fourth, or eating ambrosia salad off his fork at a funeral, or finding our way through a corn maze together—he had turned a corner and I could now objectively say he was very, very handsome. It was a combination of a lot of things—the way he carried himself with ease and confidence, his thick brown hair, his playful blue eyes, his contagious smile.

“What?” he asked.

He’d caught me staring. I tried to play it off and started applying mascara.

“So is this what you’ve been doing for the past however many Thanksgivings?” I asked, facing the mirror with Micah.

“Coming to Micah’s house? No, we just met at the beginning of the year.”

Micah laughed and swatted at his leg.

I rolled my eyes. “I meant spending it with the family of the business your dad is mentoring or whatever.”

“Actually, we usually cater on Thanksgiving,” Andrew said.

“What?” I asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Really?”

“Really.”

“You poor, overworked white boy,” Micah said.

“I know. It’s a true sob story,” he said.

Micah held her hand out for the mascara and I placed it in her upturned palm. “It is kind of sad, actually,” she said.

“Sad, pathetic? Or sad, you now want to take care of me?”

“A little of both,” Micah said.

“I’ll take care of you,” I said, then my ears went hot. It was supposed to come out as a joke but it sounded extra flirty.

Andrew’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Well, that’s the best offer you’re getting all day,” Micah said. “Although my mother might make a similar offer.”

“Um …” he said.

“That sounded inappropriate,” Micah said. “It wasn’t meant to. I just meant, she really likes to mother people. All of us will be taken care of by my mother today. I’m going to shut up now.”

I laughed, grateful she had hijacked the awkwardness because I had been on a one-way street to There’s No Turning Back From Here.

Micah capped her mascara and threw it into her makeup bag. “There. I am now even more beautiful.”

I smiled at her. She already had naturally long lashes and didn’t even need mascara at all. “Should we join the others?” I asked.

“Well, unless someone else wanted to borrow any makeup.” Micah winked at Andrew.

“I have always wondered what I’d look like with eyeliner.”

“You’d look amazing,” Micah said, then stood and pointed to the carpet where she’d been sitting. “Come. It is time for your wondering to be over.”

“I was joking,” he said.

“Joking has consequences, my friend. And this is yours.” She dug through her makeup bag for her eyeliner. “Andrew. Now.”

He rolled his eyes and sat on the carpet next to me.

“Sophie is better at applying eyeliner than I am. It’s her steady artist hand,” Micah said. She extended the eyeliner that she’d freed from her bag to me.

I held her gaze. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge, as if asking me what I was going to do about my newly discovered feelings.

“I am pretty good at applying eyeliner.” I swiped the pencil from her hand and turned to face Andrew. I uncapped the pencil, then examined the point.

“These are dire consequences for a joke,” Andrew said. “Letting you near my eyes with such a sharp object.”

“You don’t trust me?” I asked.

He raised one side of his mouth into a half smile and said, “No.” But he also lowered himself off his knees and turned to face me. My heart was racing and I tried to ignore it.

“Do you want the I’m a lead singer in a rock band look or the I’m Captain Jack Sparrow look?” I asked.

“I want the minimalist look, whatever that is.”

“He wants the just make these baby blues look even bluer look,” Micah said. “Seriously, I don’t know why more guys don’t wear makeup.”

I leaned closer to him and his eyes were intent on me. “You need to look down,” I said.

He followed my direction. Never before had I analyzed how I put eyeliner on someone until that moment. The edge of the palm holding the liner had to rest on his cheek and my free hand went to his chin to hold him steady and control his movement.

“I’ll be right back,” Micah said. “I need to make sure Dad doesn’t need help.”

I gave her wide eyes as she left but she just shot me an innocent smile, then closed the door behind her. My breathing went shallow, but I tried to steady it. I continued lining his right eye.

“You smell like chocolate,” he said.

“Yes, I ate a …” I trailed off.

“A what?” he asked.

My cheeks went hot and I knew I couldn’t say the word kiss without completely giving myself away. “Some chocolate,” I said. “Look up.”

His whole head went up.

“No, just your eyes.”

“Oh.” He readjusted, and I lined the bottom of his right eye. Then I dropped my hand and leaned back to assess.

“How does it look?” he asked.

This very handsome boy in front of you is leaving. He always leaves, I reminded myself. “Um … yeah, so blue. Let me do the other side.”

He looked down without me having to ask and I now had to rest my palm across his nose.

“Sorry,” I said.

“The lengths we go to for beauty.” His hand brushed my knee and I nearly smeared liner across his temple.

I managed to steady my grip on the pencil. “Look up.” He did, and I finished off the last of it. “There.” My hand that was still on his chin moved his face one way, and then the other, so I could make sure I got it even. “You’re a babe.” I didn’t know why I said that—it just flew out. I pretended like it was a completely normal thing to say. It actually probably was. It was something Micah would say to a friend. He would think nothing of it unless I acted weird. Which I kind of was. I dropped my hand and scooted away from him. “Have a look.” I pointed to the mirror.

He turned to look at his reflection. “How much do you want to bet nobody out there even notices I’m wearing it?”

“You already owe me so many things, sir, but I will take that bet.” I held out my hand.

“You with your shaking of hands.” He took my hand and gripped it tight, meeting my eyes. That eyeliner really did make his eyes pop. They were gorgeous. He shook my hand several times, then hopped up from his sitting position and pulled me up with him.

“How are things with Micah?” he asked, not letting go of my hand.

“Getting better. And you? How are things with your dad?”

“Getting better as well. He actually apologized if you can believe that. Said he’s been under a lot of pressure.” He finally dropped my hand.

“You were right about that, then.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a good excuse, but maybe he needed to blow up at a little kid to see how bad he’s gotten. He seems to be trying.”

“Good.” We stood staring at each other. My stomach was fluttering with a million winged insects that seemed to want to escape. And I wanted to escape with them.

So I did.

“We better go help in the kitchen.” I turned on my heel and left the room too fast to pull off casual.