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He pinches my side, making me yelp. “Don’t burst my bubble like that. It’s cruel.”
“I thought you loved it when I’m honest with you.”
“Usually,” he grumbles in my ear, the sound sending a shiver through me. “But this is one of my biggest dreams we’re talking about.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re fine.” He puts his chin on my shoulder. “And honestly, I’d be happy with any car.”
His heat seeps into me, sending tingles down my spine. I’m tempted to move away, to put space between us, while wanting to stay close at the same time.
“Isla?” His voice in my ear sounds sweet like honey.
“Mhm?”
“Do you remember our pact?”
My breath catches, and my heartbeat speeds up. “What pact?” I ask hoarsely, worried he can tell how that single question is affecting me.
“About first kisses?”
“Oh.” I force a light laugh. “Yeah, I remember. What about it?”
“I’ll be sixteen in November, and you’ll be sixteen in December. If neither of us has kissed anyone before then, how long should we wait for our kiss?”
Butterflies erupt in my stomach. “You’re really planning on that?”
“Um, yeah. Why not?” He shrugs. “Every pact should have rules. A deadline, maybe. It’s only logical.”
Good thing he can’t see my face, because my cheeks are impossibly hot. “A first kiss is supposed to be romantic and maybe spontaneous. Setting a deadline seems strange.”
“What if we don’t make a plan, and after you turn sixteen, you get tired of waiting and kiss someone else? Or what if that happens to me?”
My throat tightens, making it hard to speak. I don’t want him to kiss anyone else. And I don’t want to kiss anyone else either.
I swallow and force myself to respond. “You think you’ll have trouble resisting if another girl wants to kiss you?”
He huffs in my ear. “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Okay, sorry.” I take a deep breath. “How about we wait a month? If there’s no one else we’d rather kiss, then we kiss.”
“My birthday is a month before yours. Does that mean we’re waiting a month after yours, or after mine?”
Heart fluttering, I use all my strength to keep my voice even. “After mine?”
“No. After mine,” he says. “That way, you’ll get your first kiss on your birthday.”
I snort. “You make it sound like kissing you is a reward.”
He chuckles. “Maybe it is.”
“You’re ridiculous and way too arrogant.”
“Not true.” He pinches my side again.
“So true,” I taunt him.
The words have barely left my mouth when he slips his arms to my waist, laying me back, and kneels beside me. The shingles are rough beneath the blanket as he relentlessly tickles my sides and my neck. Laughing, I swat his chest and try to kick him, but he blocks my attacks.
