Page 7 of After Our Kiss

He couldn't look at me. His fingertips slid over the raised text on the book's cover. “Maybe we shouldn't keep reading this one.”

“Why, because they're banging?” I said it bluntly to get a reaction. I got one; Conway snapped his face towards mine with his eyes wide, and his soft-looking lips parted. After going months feeling like I had no power, this new ability made me swell like a wave. I wanted to crash down on Conway and make him bow before me. I'd never felt like this-all warm and wiggly and wicked to my core.

Narrowing his gaze, he considered me seriously. “How old are you, Georgia?”

“Thirteen.” I paused. “Wait, what day is it?”

“November tenth.”

My stomach dropped. “My birthday was the 2nd. Guess I'm fourteen, now.”

He didn't twitch an eyelash. “Sorry about your birthday. Maybe I can sneak you some cake next time.”

“For real?”

“Sure. What's your favorite kind?”

Cracking a smile, I kicked my feet. “Strawberries and cream. Mom used to get me this really cheap kind every year, from this awful grocery store, but I loved it.”

“Then I'll do that.”

Little wings flapped in my chest. It was such a stupid thing to offer. But I loved him for it. “Promise?”

He held out his pinky finger, wrapping it in mine. We both squeezed. “Promise.”

Biting my lip, I tucked my hands in my lap. “Your turn. How old are you?”

“Fourteen. I'm only two months older than you.”

Beneath our silence was something new. It beat like a heart, an ever-growing pressure that shot upwards in a peak I couldn't anticipate. It had to go somewhere, because if it didn't, I'd go mad from dissatisfaction. “Have you ever done any of this?” I whispered, waving at the pages.

He shook his head. “No. Have—”

“No,” I said quickly. Chewing the corner of my lip, I examined my knees. “I've never even kissed someone.” I hadn't cared about boys or dating. None of the guys at school had caught my eye. I'd always figured when I was older, dating would make sense. I'd find a guy I could connect with. But what if I never did?

Conway leaned closer. “Why are you frowning?”

“Because I just realized I might die before I kiss anyone,” I said, holding back a wave of tears. Rubbing my eyes vigorously, I smiled up at him through my own fear. “What if I never get to experience that? Can you imagine?”

His hair was casting his face in shadow. “You won't die before your first kiss, Georgia.”

“I might. You can't say I won't, you can't know.” I stared at him closely, trying to read his expression. I noticed how lacquered his lips looked. I saw the hard lines of muscle just beginning to grow across his chest and arms, places his tight shirt didn't hide.

When I swallowed, I pushed my knees together. The book fell from my lap and hit the floor. Neither of us moved to get it. “Conway,” I said softly. “You could do it.”

The knob in his throat shifted. “Do what?”

“Kiss me.” My eyes were getting dry but I didn't dare blink. “You could be my first.”

“Georgia...”

“Please.”

“What if I'm bad at it?” he asked honestly.

A flash of empathy rocked my whole body. Conway was actuallyworriedabout being the first boy to kiss me. It was sweet—it made me want him more. “If it's bad, it's okay. I'll take that over never getting to do it at all.”

His hands slid down my shoulders. He was barely touching me, as if he expected me to disintegrate if he went too fast. The black of his irises was rich. It drew me in. I was floating in the Milky Way with nothing tethering me to solid ground but this stranger-

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