“Do you need me to refresh your memory?”
“No! No, I remember now,” I say, my mind flashing back to the sight of his bare chest. Fuck. I’m caught with my voice in my throat
Jae takes a few steps back towards me, to stand right in front of me. We’re almost toe to toe. He’s so close, I could stretchmy fingers out and touch him. His eyes are big, and brown. His lashes are long, and delicate. I want to smack the grin off his face.
I lower my eyes to his lips.
Holy shit..
Pink and full, his lips are slightly parted as he watches me flounder, embarrassed.
I think I want to kiss him.
“Who was your first kiss?” I ask him.
“Jenny Westwood from 8th grade.” He answers.
“Who was your last kiss?”
“Trixie Beaucourt from Unit 101.” Jae confesses. “Why are you asking?”
I want to say aloud it should be me. He should kiss me. It’s a practice thing, right? Maybe I’ve forgotten.
“Could…” I start to ask, but I stop myself. “Would you?”
“Would I what?” Jae cocks his head to the side.
“Do you think Rishi will try to kiss me?” I ask. That gets Jae to laugh.
“I don’t know, Riley, maybe?” He says strongly. “We don’t discuss his gameplans before going out.”
“Would you—would you let me practice kissing you?” I ask.
Jae stands still for a moment. “When was your last kiss?” He asks.
“It was Grant. Three years ago.” I confess. “I fear I’ve forgotten how.”
“And you want to practice on me?” Jae asks and my heart flutters. “And you think this is a good idea?”
“I just thought—maybe—since you go on a lot of dates, you’re a good kisser,” I stutter.
“Oh, no, I’m a good kisser, but?—”
“Nevermind—” I say quickly, “Just forget it.”
“No, no, here,” Jae takes my hand and leads me to the wall of a nearby building. “We can practice if it’ll make you feel more confident on your real date.”
“Okay,” I whisper, wondering what hot water I just got myself into. My back against a brick wall, Jae now holds both my hands. His touch is invigorating, and I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. It’s dim, and his face is barely illuminated by buzzing street lights.
“To be clear. This is practice,only.Means nothing. Yes?” Jae asks me.
“Yes,” I agree.
“Okay,” Jae says, squeezing my right hand. “Yourrealdate might ask you to put your hands somewhere.”
“Like where?” I ask.
“Like here.” He brings my right hand to his waist, and my left hand to his chest. I instinctively hold onto him, not quite squeezing, but not letting go either.
