For the first minute or so, we didn’t even look at each other. We just sat on the floor, across from each other, our knees nearly—but not quite—touching. Then Jeremy cleared his throat, causing me to glance up. The seconds were ticking away, and the longer time passed in silence, the more worried I became. Why wasn’t he making a move? I mean, it wasn’t that I wanted our first kiss to be in a closet closed off from thirty other horny teenagers, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And I was seriously close to begging.
“So,” he finally said, breaking the silence. His jaw was clenched and his brows were knitted together. “This is awkward.” His tone was teasing, and I knew I shouldn’t take offense, but I did.
My heart sank. The butterflies that had been flitting about in my belly since we’d first locked eyes in the living room suddenly ceased to move.
Awkward.
All night, I’d thought he was finally seeing me as more than Tod. More than Joey. More than his female best friend. Had I thought wrong? The idea of kissing me was awkward?
I laughed even though my heart was breaking. “Yeah, awkward.” I shoved off the floor. “Besides, who wants to have their first kiss in a closet with someone who doesn’t even like you?”
A sob was bubbling up. I had to get out of there.
“Sierra,” Jeremy whispered, but I couldn’t look at him. All I had to do was wait for the timer to go off and bolt from the closet, down the hall, and out the door. I’d sprint down the beach as fast as I could to get away from all of this…awkwardness.
Apparently, Jeremy had other plans.
He stood and crossed to me, placing his arms on the wall behind me, blocking me in. “I didn’t mean it’d be awkward kissing you. Just that it’d be awkward here in the closet…all those people listening on the other side.” He exhaled. “We don’t have to do this, you know. It’s just a game,” he told me, seemingly unaware of the way my heart was racing.
I wished he’d acknowledged, just once, the way things had been changing between us, especially since I’d gotten home from Ohio. I saw him differently. I had for a long time. Did he see me differently as well? Should I tell him how I felt? That my stomach always twisted into pretzel-like knots whenever he was around and how my heart missed him when he wasn’t?
“I want to,” I said abruptly.
His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded, bringing his head closer to mine. Suddenly, the space in the closet was restricting—as if the walls were closing in on us—but I didn’t dare try to move.
“I’ve never actually kissed a boy before,” I admitted as my heart hammered in my chest.
His breath tickled my lips as he exhaled a curse. Clearly, he was surprised at my admission. “Neither have I,” he responded, leaning in and closing the distance between us.
I’d like to say our mouths met with a fiery passion that had sparks flying all around us. That the air was electrified and swirling, locking us in a tornadic fury of lust and love.
But the truth is, when his lips met mine, I was laughing at his words, which caused our foreheads to bump together. Instead of slow, sweet, and achingly perfect, his lips kind of mashed against mine, drowning out my laughter. My body went rigid at the contact, and we just stood there, stock-still. The force of his kiss pressed my lips into my teeth, but I couldn’t move. Our eyes were locked in place, and while his kiss might not have been magical, the affectionate look in his eyes certainly was.
My palms turned sweaty. Those butterflies once again took flight. My knees went weaker than ever.
It might not have been Hollywood perfect, but Jeremy’s lips were fused to mine, and at that moment, I knew nothing would ever come between us again.
So, Hollywood perfect? No.
But who needs Hollywood? It was Sierra Sullivan perfect, and I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Then, slowly, he gently pulled back until his lips were only a whisper on mine. A sudden surge of confidence burst within me, and as my eyes fluttered closed, I ran my hands up his chest and fisted his shirt. Then I leaned forward and kissed him back.
His arms wrapped around my waist as he drew me in close. I felt so small in his embrace, melting into his warmth and never wanting to leave it. He didn’t deepen the kiss. In fact, he gave me the reins. So I did exactly what I’d always wanted. I tasted him.
His lips were soft and sweet, with remnants of vanilla from the Pepsi he’d been drinking. A soft moan bubbled up from within me, causing my cheeks to heat with embarrassment. No. That wasn’t embarrassment. That was arousal.
“Jeremy,” left my lips in a whisper as I pulled back from him.
My eyes fluttered open to find him gazing down at me. His eyes were dancing with delight, which caused my heart to smile.
“Sierra,” he replied.
We both released simultaneous sighs and beamed at each other.
I’d thought our relationship had shifted earlier.
But that moment in the living room had nothing on this one.
Who would’ve thought that kissing my best friend would have felt so right?
And who would’ve thought that I couldn’t wait to do it again?
I couldn’t believe it was finally happening. A moment I felt like I’d been waiting all my life for. A moment that could’ve continued for the rest of my life. A moment, an amazing one, I would never, ever forget.
Kissing Sierra Sullivan was like a dream come true. If I could win the lottery, get Michael Jordan’s autograph, and kiss the girl of my dreams whenever I wanted to, that was what it would feel like. Hell, this felt even better than that. I didn’t need the lottery or the autograph. I already felt like I had everything thanks to the girl in my arms.
She was my best friend. She was my lifeline. She was everything to me, and now that I was holding her in my arms, I realized I wanted everything with her.
But how did I tell her? What if, for some reason, I’d read this all wrong and she didn’t feel the same?
Was that even possible?
All too soon, there was a knock on the door.
“Time’s up,” Chris called from just outside the door. His eyes lit up when we stepped out into a room with even more hoots and hollers than there had been before we’d gone into the closet.
No one but Chris knew how I felt about Sierra, but I was starting to wonder if it was written all over my face. As Chris gave me a pat on the back, he gave me a look. I knew that look. He was daring me.
As if that weren’t enough, he leaned in closer. “Come out of the closet, Banks. You’ll feel better. I promise.” He paused for effect. “I. Dare. Ya.”
See? I knew my male best friend.
But Sierra was frowning. “Does he mean…” she trailed off, shaking her head.
Chris folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow in my direction. I placed my hand on the small of Sierra’s back and pushed her forward, flipping him off in the process.
This was the first time he’d done this. Our dares usually kept girls off-limits, but he was apparently tired of me not-so-secretively pining for my best friend.
Hello. I was Jeremy Banks and there was not a dare I could turn down.
Which is how I found myself, moments later, taking Sierra’s hand and guiding her outside Ryan’s beach house and onto the sand. We walked in companionable silence until we were a good distance away.
“All joking aside…that was a first for me, too,” I admitted, pulling on the neck of my shirt. God, had that thing tightened up since the dance?
Her nose wrinkled in disbelief, and she playfully hit my shoulder with hers, rocking me to the side before she plopped down in the sand and pulled me beside her. “You’re a hot-shot baseball player. A star on the football field. I see the way all the girls look at you in the hallway at school, Jeremy. There’s no way,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re sixteen years old and never been kissed? I don’t buy it.”