I. Was. Kissing. Milo.

At fourteen, I’d dreamed of this nightly, a tightly held secret yearning, never uttered aloud to a single soul. And I’d had a million daring ideas for how to plant one on him, all of which faded come morning, stark reality keeping me quiet. He’d been my best friend, and that had been enough right up until he wasn’t. Never once had I considered that he might kiss me.

Further, he wasn’t anything like Dream Milo. Dream Milo was smooth. Practiced. In charge. Effortlessly talented at kissing. This Milo was…tentative. A little awkward, which was usually my forte. However, I’d kissed enough actual people since those dreams of Milo to know where noses went and how to manage the art of both kissing and breathing at the same time.

Mixing light, fluttery kisses with harder presses, Milo seemed to be still figuring out everything from the right amount of pressure to the position of his face. And his fumbling should have been a turnoff, should have made me laugh at the least. Because Milo Lionetti being bad at kissing? No one would believe me.

And yet there I was, still kissing him back, actively enjoying the process of stumbling our way from eager-but-bad to better to starving-for-more to brilliant bursts of pleasure radiating with each pass of our lips. And somewhere in the middle of my neurons having a fireworks show, Milo gasped again. Him forgetting to breathe was one the sexiest things I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t resist taking advantage of his parted lips to deepen the kiss. Our tongues met, making a fresh round of sparks explode behind my eyes, and—

Honk. Somewhere deeper in the parking garage a car honked and we flew apart. I looked around, but our windows were all foggy and I couldn’t see anything.

“What the heck?” Milo looked like a beautiful wreck, bright-eyed, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. But his hotness transformed into horror, pink cheeks going pale and tone shifting from husky to indignant.

“You. Kissed. Me.” No way was I letting him pin this on me. Sure, I’d kissed back, rather enthusiastically, but he’d made that first move.

“I know. I shouldn’t have done that.” Groaning, Milo rested his head on the steering wheel. “God. We have to get out of here.”

I could already tell it was going to be a long, cold drive back home. “You can’t leave me on the side of the road.”

“What?” Milo blinked at me as he started up the car. “Why would I do that?”

“Uh, maybe because you’re freaking out?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously.” His gaze kept shifting around, like he was afraid to look directly at me for more than a second.

“Obviously. Look, I’m sorry if your little experiment didn’t go like you planned, but you don’t get to blame me.”