He gives himself some time to be obnoxious with the ice cream cone again. He knows what he’s doing—I can see the smile in his eyes. It makes me think about all the other things he could be doing with his mouth.

“Well,” he finally says, “I’m trying to figure out how many of those are Webber productions.”

“Oh my God, Miles.”

He snickers, and I can’t help but laugh with him. It’s starting to feel like summer, with the sun hitting my face as I talk to this guy about musicals. Even my parents would’ve cut me off by now. I never thought I’d be able to do something like this with a boy like Miles.

The ice cream makes it worse. It’s hard to ignore him licking ice cream off his hand.

“You need a napkin?”

“I’m fine.”

“Isn’t it a little early for ice cream?”

“It’s never too early for fun.”

I don’t know if I’m uncomfortable or…Well, it would be pretty inappropriate to be horny in the middle of a park. But this is most definitely something I’ll think about in my room.

Miles purses his lips, like he’s considering something. He holds the hand with the ice cream all the way out to the side, far away from me. I open my mouth, but I don’t get to say anything, because he kisses me.

His lips taste like vanilla and they’re soft, so soft. If I thought we just got lucky on the first few kisses, I was wrong. I grip his hand in mine but forget the stupid cone. It crushes in my fist, and sticky ice cream squelches between my fingers. I pull back, staring down in disgust. He doesn’t have any napkins, because of course not.

“Well,” he says, staring at my hand. “Maybe it is too early for ice cream.”

I resist the urge to snort.

“God, Miles,” I say, reaching for my jacket. “Everyone knows how to eat an ice cream cone normally. You’re basically an adult.”

I start to wipe off my hands with my jacket. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out napkins. My eyes narrow.

“You had those the whole time?”

He doesn’t answer, just grabs my hand. His laughter is loud as he gently wipes off the ice cream.

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you weren’t oblivious,” he says. He won’t look at me. “I’ve been totally fucking obvious.”

I swallow. “What are you talking about?”

“I started it both times. It’s only fair that you lead this time.”

“Well, I did try yesterday at rehearsal.” I put my hand on the back of his neck, and he goes a little stiff. “It didn’t exactly work out. You should’ve said something.”