Page 99 of Best Friends for Never

“I doubt that.”

And I really do. He has no idea how I feel about him. How every night I fall asleep thinking of him and wake up every morning with him still on my mind. He’s the person I want to tell everything to. He’s my confidant. My best friend. He’s my whole world, and tomorrow, he’s gone.

He crosses the stage to me, standing so close I have to tip my head back to look up at him. This summer, he went through a growth spurt, adding another two inches to his already tall frame.

He’s staring down at me with a look I’ve never seen from him before, a mix of uncertainty and something else I can’t quite place myfinger on. It sends my heart racing and makes my spine tingle with anticipation.

He reaches out, brushing a hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, then cradles my face, his thumb stroking against my cheek. Again, his touch isn’t surprising, but this ... It feels different. Like that look in his eyes.

“Can I ...” He rolls his tongue over his bottom lip. “Can I try something?”

I nod, and he steps closer, the distance between us now nonexistent. His hard body is pressed against mine, and it’s too much and not enough.

He grabs my chin, tipping my head back. His gaze bounces between my lips and my eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

I know that look. I’ve seen it countless times in those Hallmark movies I watch with my mother.

Desire.

I swallow thickly because I know what’s coming, and even though I shouldn’t want it because tomorrow he’ll be gone and I’ll still be here, I can’t help it. I do. I want it so, so bad.

Another brush of his thumb, another shallow breath.

“Can I kiss you, Peter?”

“Yes.”

The word is barely out before his lips are on mine. They’re softer than I expected them to be.He’ssofter than I expected him to be. Gentle. Tentative even.

His tenderness doesn’t last but a moment before he’s kissing me hungrily and expertly.

I’ve been kissed three times before. The first was during a game of Spin the Bottle with Axel Cooke, the second last year on my first date with Henry Redding, and the third at the Homecoming dance. None of them can compare to this.

Noel’s lips move against mine like he’s kissed me hundreds of times before and knows just what he’s doing. His tongue sweeps against my lips, and I instinctively open them.

Then suddenly, his tongue is in my mouth, and I’m melting against him. I have no idea what I’m doing, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s too busy snaking a hand around my waist, holding me tighter to him.

He’s kissing me like he may never kiss me again.

I love it, and I hate it, and I never want it to end.

But it does. Far too soon.

Noel pulls his lips from mine, his breath sharp as he presses his forehead against mine. “Come with me.”

I jerk my head back. “What?”

He slides his tongue over his bottom lip. “Come with me. To LA, I mean.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m really not.”

And I know by the look in his eyes that he’s telling the truth. He wants me to come with him.

My mouth falls open. “You can’t be serious. I can’t ...” I shake my head. “I can’t come to LA with you.”

“Why not?”

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