Page 116 of What's in a Kiss?

“I can’t wait.”

I spot Jake standing alone by the water. My heart picks up as I approach him. By the time I’m at his side, it’s like a jackhammer in my chest.

“What happened to the photographer?” I ask.

“She was called away to take pictures of the mother of thebride,” Jake says, gesturing toward the wedding tent. He turns to me and I think he might be nervous, unless that’s my nerves refracting off of him. “She said to stay here. While the light’s good. She’ll be right back.”

“Oh,” I say. It’s true the light is very good on Jake right now. “So we just... stay here.”

A small smile splits his lips. “We can handle that, right?”

I think of my mom’s reassurance a moment ago. I think of Masha in the High Life, angry with me on a fishing boat, but sure that Jake and I were meant to be. I think of lying next to him on home plate, slightly concussed, and eating hot dogs on Deck Day in our underwear, feeling there was nothing sexier than potting plants right next to him. I think of us posing as strangers at the Sunset Marquis. I think of us on that curb at prom, and what we should have done.

“Can I try an experiment?” I ask.

He looks at me. “Sure.”

“And if it goes horribly wrong, can I take it back?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“Jake?”

“Olivia.”

“I’m terrified.”

“It’s okay. Whatever it is—”

I kiss him. Simple, swift, tiptoes, and lips. No arms—a safeguard to ensure I’ll pull away after half a second, because although I want to melt into Jake for the rest of ever, I also need to check the results of my experiment.

But before I pull away, his arms come around my waist anddraw me into him, close and firm. His lips part and pull mine in as his head tilts and his tongue teases and the multiverse’s sexiest voice actually moans...

“Olivia.”

The way he says my name, with his teeth nibbling my lower lip...

“Yes?”

“Don’t you dare take this back.”

And then my arms wrap around his neck and he lifts me up and kisses me like we’ve practiced it a thousand times before. Like we know all of each other’s favorite things. And we do.

“I can’t believe this,” Jake whispers, his breath so amazingly hot against my neck.

“Can’t believe what?”

“I fell for you when I was eighteen. That night at prom—”

“You mean at the audition forRomeo and Juliet? Or wasn’t it earlier than that, on your very first day of school?”

He blinks at me. “You knew? All along?”

“It was kind of obvious,” I tease, enjoying for once being the one who knows more than him. “Wanna know a secret?”

He nods.

“I did too.”

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