“I know so.”
Her smile is small but genuine.
“Fair’s fair,” I add. “If you’re admitting something you’ve never done before, I should too.”
“Oh?” Her curiosity sparks.
“I’ve never kissed a girl from Kansas before we even went out on our first date.”
Her breath catches.
“What?” she whispers.
I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She doesn’t.
I press my lips to hers, and my whole world turns on its side.
THREE
MINDY
The kiss is softer than I expect.
Not rushed. Not hungry. Just… sure.
Jesse’s lips are warm, firm in a way that sends a small, startled shiver through me. For half a second, I forget where I am. Forget the bike behind us. Forget the city humming nearby. All I can focus on is the press of his mouth against mine and the steady, grounding presence of him standing close.
My hands hover awkwardly at his sides, unsure what to do with themselves, until instinct takes over and I grip the front of his leather jacket. The material is smooth and warm beneath my fingers, and something about that—about him being so solid and real—makes my chest feel tight in the best possible way.
This isn’t a whirlwind kiss. It’s not desperate or rushed or fueled by nerves.
It’s exploratory. Gentle. Like he’s asking a question with his mouth and giving me time to answer.
When we part, it’s slow, lingering just long enough for me to feel the absence of him before I open my eyes. He’s watching mewith an expression that makes my stomach flip—curious, a little amused, and unmistakably pleased.
“I’ve never done that either,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.
He blinks. “Done what?”
“Kissed a guy at the start of a date.” My cheeks warm. “At least not before the date actually… starts.”
His mouth curves into a slow smile. “Guess we’re both breaking new ground tonight.”
“Seems that way.”
For a moment, neither of us says anything. The air between us feels charged, but not uncomfortable. If anything, it feels easy. Like we’re already in sync.
“So,” he says eventually, nodding toward the motorcycle. “Feeling brave enough now?”
I glance at the bike, my nerves fluttering low in my stomach. The fear is still there. But it’s quieter now, dulled by adrenaline and trust and the strange comfort of knowing he won’t push me into anything I’m not ready for.
“Yes,” I say, surprising myself with how sure I sound. “I am.”
His grin widens. “All right, Kansas. Let’s ride.”
He hands me the helmet, and as he helps me fasten it, his fingers brush my jaw, careful and unhurried. The simple touch feels oddly intimate, and I wonder if he’s aware of it too.
