“You know I’m worried about that,” I point out reluctantly. I hate talking about this, but I haven’t kept it a secret from him, either. “Remember?”
“Years ago,” he answers. “But that’s crazy. Alexander, I’m sure you’re a great kisser.”
“Think about it,” I say, then start babbling. “I never even went beyond kissing with Davis when we dated because I could tell I was so bad at kissing, and it made me nervous I’d be bad at the rest of it, too. I fell off the bedthree times, Rafael. We only dated a month! And once my lips were frozen stiff the whole time Davis and I made out, like I had a brain malfunction.” I make a contorted, stiff lip to show him what I mean.
“Yeah, but that was years ago.” Rafael frowns, his brow tightening as he looks at me with sympathy. “God, Alexander! I hate this for you.” He shakes his head quickly. “I should have worked harder to get you on Grindr. You just need some experience to feel confident in yourself.”
I puff air out my nose. “I’m really never going on Grindr.”
He sighs. “I know you won’t,” he acknowledges. “I’m just saying. Kissing is natural. It’s only bad when people are like, forcing it.”
I pull my knees up to my chest. “See? I’m nervous about it, so I don’t act natural at all. I force it. Thus, I’m bad.”
“That’s why you need practice. More reason to call Davis.”
Rafael and I stare at each other. A part of me is frustrated. I want him to be jealous or insecure about me going on a date with someone, worried that he might lose me, but that’s obviously not fair. He doesn’t feel about me the same way I feel about him.
Then he reaches out and takes my hand, and something changes.
“Here,” he says. Rafael squeezes my hand. “Kiss me.”
Time stops. My heart keeps beating. “Wha… what?” I say, then laugh, loudly and awkwardly.
Rafael rolls his eyes. “Come on, do it. Then I can tell you that you’re not bad at kissing, and you won’t have to worry anymore. And I’ve kissed a lot of people, so I know.”
My mouth falls softly open. I’ve spent years trying so hard not to fantasize about Rafael looking at me one day and telling me to kiss him, and now here he is, telling me to kiss him.
“We can’t kiss,” I say, then twist my face. “Weirdo.”
Rafael laughs. “Weirdo, yes we can.”
I keep looking at him. This is definitely a bad idea. This is Rafael logic, and I know how to spot bad Rafael logic from a mile away. But my nerves are suddenly all raw and exposed, and the dark leather color in Rafael’s eyes is extra dreamy and rich behind his glasses, and he’s finally asking me to kiss him.
My friend leans forward, just slightly. He knows me better than anyone, so he’s patiently giving me a minute to freak out. I make what is probably a very unkissable face, scrunching my mouth up, then laugh and scoff, then finally relax.
“Rafael, really?” I ask again.
He inches forward again. “These lips are made for kissing,” he teases, then puckers.
I laugh at him being dorky. My cheeks feel hot, the room is spinning, and I want this so, so bad. Before I can second guess myself, I suck in a breath and lean forward to meet him. I close my eyes and press my lips to Rafael’s.
We touch, and the world glimmers.
I already know how impossibly soft and warm Rafael’s lips are and how roughly his beard scrapes. But usually, we pull away fast. As we stay there, he opens his lips to me, and something else happens. His mouth closes over mine, and I taste him as a slow shiver crawls through my body. Every second is eternal, and I don’t know if I’m breathing.
We’re kissing.
Rafael’s hand lands softly on my cheek. “Relax,” he whispers, stroking down to my jaw. “Just kiss me.”
I realize my jaw is tight, but somehow, Rafael’s touch unclenches me. I open my mouth to him, and our tongues meet. I hitch in a surprised breath that almost turns into a moan, then sink into the pleasure of his lips again.
We’re not just kissing. We’re making out. Rafael and I are making out.
I lean in, and he meets me. We’re still sitting on the floor, side to side and closer with every kiss. He opens his mouth wide and pulls it back just slightly, and instinctively, I lick the bottom of his teeth, the edge blunt against my tongue.
The coarse hair of his beard sparks against my skin as we go deeper.
Rafael groans softly as his mouth closes over mine. We’re kissing harder, and I start to lose myself in it. My hand is on his arm, and even that feels different, every touch ignited.
