Page 81 of The Comeback Summer

“Half of the world’s coral reefs are already dead,” he’s saying, “and if we don’t do something to change things, ninety percent will be gone by...”

His words fade away and I follow his gaze to my lap, where the wind has lifted my cover-up to expose my thighs and the edge of my bikini bottom.

“By?” I prompt.

He drags his gaze away like it’s physically painful. “By 2050,” he finishes, then swallows.

Maybe he’s not as unaffected as I thought. Memories from our shower together flash through my mind: Josh’s fingers in my hair, his soapy hands on my body, the ache between my legs.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” I ask.

His eyes flick up to meet mine. “Of course. At the playground near my parents’ house.”

We were each on a swing, twisting ourselves around until the chains were in knots, then letting our feet go so we could spin until we were dizzy. After we’d slowed down, he reached out, grabbed the chains of my swing, and pulled me close.

“I was so nervous,” I say.

“Me, too.”

“Is that why you waited so long to kiss me?” From the day we first held hands on the Ferris wheel to that first kiss was almost two months. “I remember thinking maybe you didn’t want to.”

The corner of his lip curls up, bringing out a whisper of his dimple. I want to lick it.

“Oh, I wanted to,” he says. “But I was doing research in preparation.”

“Research!” I burst out laughing. “Like what?”

“I googled ‘how to kiss a girl’ and took notes. The ideal lip-to-tongue ratio. How to breathe while kissing. What to do with your noses so they don’t mash together.”

I double over laughing, holding on to the metal railing so I don’t tip over.

“I didn’t know what I was doing!” Josh protests.

“Lip-to-tongue ratio,” I wheeze.

He shakes his head, grinning. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! I think it’s cute.”

“Yay. Cute.” He rolls his eyes. “Exactly what every teenage boy wants the girl of his dreams to say about him. I just... wanted our first kiss to be perfect.”

“It was,” I say, smiling. The world around us faded away, like we were encased in a golden, shimmery bubble. “So, when we got to second base, did you research that, too? Did you google ‘how to touch a girl’s boobs’?”

He chuckles. “No. I figured that out all on my own.”

“Well done.”

“But I did google ‘how to finger my girlfriend.’ ”

The laughter dies abruptly in my throat. His eyes seem darker now, and a pulse of heat shoots through me.

“You did?”

He gives a slow nod.

I’m flashing back to that moment—his hands fumbling to unbutton my jeans, sliding into my underwear. That first touch of his hand,right there; how it seemed to electrify me. The first time I came—it felt like some kind of miracle. I hadn’t known my body could do that.

His eyes are intense as he watches me, cataloguing my expression as he slowly says, “I also googled ‘how to go down on my girlfriend.’ ”

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