“Okay,” she whispers, and her voice sounds different. Breathless. It makes my limbs feel funny.
I slide my hands up to frame her face, my thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. Her skin is impossibly soft. “Skin contact,” I say, though my own voice sounds strained now. “Eye contact.”
She looks up at me, and something in her expression makes my heart start pounding. Her lips are slightly parted, and she’s gone completely still, like she’s afraid to move.
I gently slide her glasses off and set them on the end table. I thread my fingers through her hair. Why haven’t I noticed how silky it is before now? It’s making a lump form in my throat.
“The key,” I say, leaning closer, “is going slow. Taking your time.”
I’m close enough now that I can feel her breath on my face. Close enough to count her eyelashes. My heart is hammering against my ribs, and I can’t figure out why. This is just a silly demonstration.
I lower my head until our lips almost touch, but I don’t close the distance. “The power of anticipation makes the kiss even better,” I say as her breaths fan against my lips.
“And then, you start with just a whisper of a kiss.” I wait another second before brushing my lips softly across hers.
Time stops, and the room tilts as zings of attraction shoot through me. She sucks in a small breath, like she wasn’t quite ready for our lips to touch. It sends a wave of desire through me, which I totally wasn’t expecting.
All plans to explain as I go evaporate, and I kiss her again, this time slow and methodical. Electricity shoots through me like I’m standing in the middle of a lightning storm. My entire body comes alive in a way I’ve never experienced before.
This is Cricket. Cricket, who I’ve known forever. Cricket, who I see every day. But suddenly, she’s not just my best friend anymore. She’s become something else entirely, and it’s making me question everything I know.
Her lips are softer than I imagined, warm and perfect against mine. The kiss starts gentle, almost hesitant, but then she responds, and something primal awakens in my chest. My hands tighten on her face of their own accord, and I feel her fingers curl into my shirt like she’s anchoring herself to me.
Fire shoots through my veins. What is happening to me?
This was supposed to be a demonstration. Impersonal. Educational. But there’s nothing impersonal about the way my pulse is racing or the way every nerve ending in my body seems to be firing at once. When Cricket’s lips part slightly, our kiss builds to a crescendo.
With other girls, kissing was nice. Pleasant. Fun. But this… this is completely different. Kissing Cricket feels like finally hearing a song I’ve been humming my whole life but never knew the words to.
My heart is beating so hard I’m sure she can feel it. Every place our bodies are touching burns—my hands on her face, my chest where she grips my shirt, every place I feel the barely-there brush of her body against mine. I want to pull her closer, want to deepen the kiss, want to lose myself completely in whatever this feeling is.
But then reality crashes in. I’m kissing Cricket. My best friend, who is dating River.
I break the kiss and pull back, and I’m completely disoriented. My hands are still cupping her face, and I can’t seem to make myself let go. Her eyes are wide and dazed, her breathing as unsteady as mine, and she’s looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before.
“Oh,” she whispers, and that one word holds a world of confusion and surprise.
I stare down at her, my mind reeling. What happened? How did a simple demonstration turn into… that? And why do I suddenly feel like everything I thought I knew about myself, about Cricket, about us, is completely wrong?
My chest is tight with something I can’t name. All I know is that I want to kiss her again. I want to kiss her until we’re both breathless, until nothing else in the world matters except this feeling coursing through my veins.
But she’s dating someone else. She’s dating River, and shecame to me because she wanted to figure out how to be a better kisser…for him.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. Cricket, the girl who’s been right there beside me all along, the girl for whom I just discovered I apparently have very unplatonic feelings, belongs to someone else.
CHAPTER 20
Cricket Jenkins
Saturday, November 28
I standin front of Micah, my heart hammering and my knees so weak I fear I’m going to fall over. He kissed me, and it was everything a kiss should be. It was tingly and exciting and electric, and it totally destroyed me.
“Thanks for showing me,” I say quickly, desperate to get away from him before I do something entirely stupid like confess my feelings to him.
I grab my glasses from the end table and shove them onto my face. I turn to leave, hoping Micah might stop me. Like maybe he felt it, too, and maybe he will finally tell me he has feelings for me.
But as I walk away, Micah doesn’t say anything. He stands there like it was no big deal to show me how to kiss. Like it didn’t shift his whole universe. Like it didn’tmatter.
