And there we were.
The kiss from last night in crystal-clear quality. I was sitting at the bar. Finn leaned across. Our mouths met. The bar erupted in cheers around us.
The caption of that particular version read, “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed at a bar. New favorite place in Tampa. #barbacks #ybor #gaytampa #cutest”
It now had 3,212 likes.
I scrolled, trying to make my brain cells bang together and make sense of what I was seeing. The comments went on forever.
“This is so pure I’m crying”
“RELATIONSHIP GOALS”
“The way they look at each other omg”
“I need a man who will kiss me like this”
“Adding this bar to my Tampa bucket list IMMEDIATELY”
I kept scrolling.
Finn was watching me, like he expected me to be upset.
“So . . . um . . .” he said, reaching across and swiping a few times. “There’s more.”
There were more posts. A lot more.
They were various camera angles of the same kiss.
Someone had made a GIF of just the moment our lips met.
Another person had done a slow-motion version.
Someone else had created a whole Instagram story analyzing our “adorable chemistry.”
“I didn’t know this was happening,” Finn said quickly, his words tumbling out. “I mean, I knew last night was . . . a lot, but I didn’t know someone recorded it or that it went viral or that people were—” He gestured at the phone. “I should have warned you before dinner, but I didn’t want to make it weird, and now it’s weird, and that guy just took our picture and probably posted it already and—”
His face buried itself in his hands as he muttered, “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I reached up and pulled one of his hands away,forcing him to look at me with one exposed eye. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
I stood up from the table.
“Chase, what are you—”
But I was already weaving between tables, crossing the restaurant toward the guy who’d taken our picture. He was sitting with three friends, all of them in Lightning gear. They looked up as I approached.
I glanced back to find Finn’s face had shifted from uncomfortable to confused to something bordering on horror.
“Hey,” I said when I reached their table. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Oh my God, hi!” The guy who’d taken our picture looked thrilled. “I’m so sorry again about—”
“Don’t apologize. Actually, I have a favor to ask.” I glanced back at Finn, who was staring at me with wide, panicked eyes. “Would you guys mind taking a few more pictures? For Instagram. I want to give you something better than a candid.”
The entire table lit up.
