Page 37 of Sweetheart

"You ready?" he asked as he studied my face.

"Mmm-hmm."

Leaning forward, Samstopped only inches away from my lips."Sure you don't wait for the one?"

Meeting his piercing stare, I reached up, curled my fingers gently around the back of his neck and drew him even closer.

"I'm tired of waiting," I said quietly.

Sam swallowed. "I know what you mean."

Curiosity swept through me, but in the next second, heclosed the gap between us. His lips met mine.Sam Bishop kissed me, and I felt it in every part of my body. Deeper than that. My soul sang with the rightness of it as his mouth moved with mine.A symphony played in my ears and raced through myblood as the kiss deepened.The first sweep of his tongue drew a gasp from my lungs. When I kissed him back, Sam's quiet groan was music to my ears. I felt lightheaded and fully awake for the first time all at once. The kiss went on and on. I lost track of everything exceptthat kiss. The feel of Sam's broad shoulders beneath my fingers, the taste of him on my tongue, the quiet sighs he made—oh wait, maybe that was me.

Time didn't exist.

Breathing could wait.

Because Sam, my Sam, was kissing me.

I never wanted it to end.

And honestly, it might've gone on forever…

…if someone hadn't walked in.

"Excuse me"—a throat cleared—"we're about to start class. You two will have to take this littlelovefest elsewhere."

Or make that several someone's.

When we broke apart, I finally came back to my senses, looking around to find Mr. Petrie, the CHS band director, staring at Sam and me—along with the entire Symphonic 2 Band. Petrie wasthe one who had spoken. He wasgoing for stern disapproval, but I thought I caught a hint of amusement there.

"Did you hear me, Miss Kent?" he asked.

"Um yes." I nodded thenglanced atSam, comforted to see that he looked a little dazed as well. "Sorry about that,Mr. Petrie. We'll just go. Bishop?"

"Right," Sam said then grinned and gave everyone in the room a salute. "You guys have a good class."

There were more than a few giggles, and as we were leaving, I heard one guy say, "Hey, wasn'tthat Sam Bishop and Scarlett Kent? When did that happen?"

A few minutes before you guys walked in and caught us kissing like the world was about to end, I thought and shook my head.

Despite what he'd said, the band director followed us out, making sure I walkedone way and Sam the other. We didn't even have time totalk, but that was for the best. I needed a moment—or a few days—to process everything.

We were doing this.

Sam signed on.

The plan was a go.

And I'd just experienced my first kiss—which, even with the way it ended, was better than I could've dreamed.

And honestly, I did.

Dream of it, I mean.

Despite what I said—or didn't say—there was someone special. Iwould likely never admit it to him. Chances were good I'd die of embarrassment if I did. But Sam was right. I'd imagined my first kiss in a million ways, indifferent places, different scenarios. But try as I might, even with my overly active imagination, one thing remained the same. There was one face that always came to mind.

His.

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