He scoffs, almost a laugh, but not quite. “Yeah. I’m familiar with the fucking concept, Cassia. I’m just not sure when you started lying to me.”

“Probably around when you started ignoring me.”

Holden swims closer. Everything inside me sings at the proximity. He reaches out, fingering one of my wet curls and tugging on it gently. “So everything we’ve done…was your first time?”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely am now. “Disappointed?”

He laughs, but it’s humorless. “No. I’m definitely not disappointed.” His hand moves to my jaw, tilting my head so I’m forced to look at him.

I can’t read anything but sincerity on his face, and it soothes something inside of me that was convinced guys like him desire girls who are experienced and bold and know exactly how to pleasure them.

He kisses me, deep and hot and desperate. I sink into the kiss, everything inside me craving his touch. Holden is tall enough to stand. Water rushes by as he moves us closer to the edge of the pool. Rough cement rubs my bare back as I’m crushed between him and the tile.

His hands run up my thighs until they reach my butt and slide over my hips. I wrap my legs around his waist, heat sparking in my stomach when I feel him reacting.

He chose to stay behind instead of going out with his friends.

He followed through on the dare after they’d left.

He kissed me first.

I’m responding to those decisions just as much as his touch. For the first time in a long time, it feels like he’s choosing me.

Prioritizing me.

It shouldn’t undo the past few years when he’s chosen differently, and it doesn’t. But it means something to me. Makes me feel sexy and desired and all the ways I want to feel around him. Makes me feel more than I wish it would. But I’ve never had any control over how I feel around him—about him—and that’s always been most of the problem.

I’m sure Holden is aware of the way his erection is pressed against me, but he doesn’t attempt to do anything more than kiss me. His hands remain on my hips, holding me in place as he plunders my mouth.

I love kissing him. I missed it more than I thought you could miss something you’d only experienced once.

Kissing him chases away all the chatter in my head.

Happy thrills patter in my chest. If I were braver, I’d ask Holden if kissing always feels like this.

Sydney’s first kiss was last fall, with a guy from her English class at Homecoming. The adjectives she used to describe it were wet and awkward. Kissing Holden has never felt that way, not even back when we were far younger and even more inexperienced.