Page 48 of Meant to Be

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

He smiled and said, “But you do like me alittle…. Right?”

“Yes. A little,” I said, then went out on another long limb. “Enough to kiss you. Once.”

“Just once?” Joe said.

“Yep.” I nodded. “One and done. You know—a ‘what happens in Paris stays in Paris’ type thing.”

“But what if I want to kiss you back in New York, too?” he said, leaning in closer, staring at my mouth again.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said, biting my lip.

He moved even closer, his face now inches from mine. I could see his chest rising and falling under his T-shirt as he reached over and touched my face, then cupped my cheek, before sliding his hand to the back of my neck. He pulled me closer to him as I inhaled a scent that I would later learn was Dior’s Eau Sauvage—the same cologne his father had worn.

Our foreheads touched first, then our noses, and as I closed my eyes, I could feel his warm breath on my face. One dizzying second later, his lips were grazing mine in the softest, lightest whisper of a kiss. It could barely even count as a kiss. But Iwantedit to count. Because it was perfect.

The perfect first kiss.

No—theonlykiss.

My heart racing, I pulled away and caught my breath and said, “There. One kiss. That’s all.”

He shook his head and said, “Just one more?”

I tried to say no, but I couldn’t. Instead, I nodded, in a complete daze, as he took me in his arms and lowered me to the bed and kissed me again and again andagain,leaving absolutely no doubt in my mind that this wasn’t just a Paris thing.

—

Sure enough, whenI returned to my apartment in New York three days later, there was a message from Joe on my answering machine. I couldn’t quite believe it as I listened to him ramble, telling me he missed me and “please call me back the second you come home. Theverysecond.”

I smiled, hit by a wave of excitement. I’d been trying not to obsess. But I could feel myself starting to fall for him. Reminding myself that this was a really bad idea, I picked up the phone and called him anyway.

“Cate!” he shouted into the phone when he heard my voice. “It’s about time! When did you get back?”

I considered telling him I’d been home for a while but decided there was no point in playing games. Whatever was going to happen would happen, and it was probably better to just get the show on the road.

“Just now,” I said.

“As in—this very second?”

“Yes. You told me to call you the second I got back, didn’t you?” I said in a playful voice.

“Atta girl,” he said. “When can I see you?”

“When do youwantto see me?”

“Now?”

I laughed and said, “How about tomorrow?”

“That would be awesome,” he said. “What should we do?”

“Something low-key,” I said, feeling exhausted and jet-lagged—but also hedging my bets.

“Okay. I could come to your place? We could rent a movie and order in?”

“Umm…I don’t know…. I have a roommate,” I said.

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