Josie’s voice rang out from somewhere nearby, unmistakably cheery and absolutely being broadcast to the entirety of Facebook.
We froze, then immediately sprang apart like teenagers caught behind the bleachers.
No sign of her, but still. If we were going to keep this thing a secret, we were going to have to be more careful. Way more careful.
Noah ran a hand through his hair, still breathless. His eyes were a little hooded, lips still soft. “God, I’m sorry.”
I reached out and smoothed a wrinkle from the front of his shirt without thinking.
“I think we’re safe,” I said, then added, “Unless she zoomed in. And I’m not sure she knows how to do that.”
“If it’s by accident, she could do practically anything.”
“True.”
I just stood there, grinning like an idiot.
“I’m not really sorry.” Was he smirking?
He was definitely smirking, so I smirked right back at him.
“Trust me, you have nothing to apologize for.”
Then, together, we walked out from behind the bus like nothing had happened—like I hadn’t just been kissed senseless by this man who was only supposed to be my friend.
The monument itself was underwhelming at best—just a flat bronze disk set into concrete, surrounded by fluttering state flags and a half-circle of booths selling turquoise jewelry, fry bread, and T-shirts that said, I stood in four states and all I got was this this stupid shirt.
But the group? Completely delighted.
“I’m in Utah!” Denise shouted. “Now I’m in New Mexico!”
“What does it mean if my foot’s in Arizona but my butt’s in Colorado?” Babs, of course.
Buzzing in the afterglow of Noah’s kiss, I handed him my phone and joined the melee.
I was halfway through posing like a human starfish—hands and feet pointed toward four different state lines—when Babs clapped her hands and called out, “Oh, oh! Noah! Get in there with her!”
She turned to Mrs. Grady, stage-whispering like it was a secret only the entire plaza could hear. “Don’t they make the most adorable couple?”
Mrs. Grady’s smile faltered—just the briefest flicker—but it was enough to make my heart skip.
I glanced at Noah, unsure whether I should step back, pretend we hadn’t heard.
But he just grinned.
Easy. Confident. Not a big deal.
He handed my phone off to someone nearby and slipped an arm around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That was how we ended up posed like we were mid-dance, one foot each in a different state.
“Say ‘Four Corners!’” Babs yelled.
And then?—
Noah dipped me.
It happened so fast I didn’t have time to overthink it. One second, I was upright, grinning at the camera. The next, I was tilted back in his arms, the desert wind catching my hair, my foot lifting off the ground like I was the heroine in a romantic musical.
