This moment must be celebrated. I turn on my stereo and crank my favorite oldies station. Mel Carter’s Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me flows out of my speakers and I can’t help but close my eyes and sing along as I dance in my living room. I’m belting out the second verse when I hear Austin’s snicker and nearly jump out of my skin. I don’t hesitate to grab a pillow off the couch and throw it at his head. He catches it without even flinching, which just makes me angrier. Damn him and his athletic reflexes.

“I thought you left!” I screech.

“I gathered as much. Please, don’t stop on my account.”

I respond only with a scoff, so he sings in a cheesy dramatic tone as he struts up to me. He wraps his arms around my waist when he reaches me, singing, “Kiss me.” So I kiss him, fusing my lips to his. His singing gets softer as he kisses a trail along my jaw and we sway to the music. In an instant the atmosphere in the room changes. This isn’t pretend anymore.

The playful air is clouded by a thick fog of unspoken emotions. He continues to sing softly in my ear, pleading for me to never let him go. The words of the love song become a promise. He pulls me into his arms and it feels like home. It feels like forever.

“Make me tell you…” The whisper dies in my ear. He doesn’t finish the lyric—I’m in love with you. He leans back and all I see are his eyes peering down into mine. The rest of the world melts away and the two of us are all that ever has been or ever will be.

He isn’t singing anymore and we stopped swaying. I’m seized by the electricity surging between our bodies. The sound of our racing hearts fills the room. His lips crash onto mine and I can feel his fervor and devotion, his heart reaching out for mine.

This is the moment, the one I will never recover from. My life is now divided in two. There is before this kiss and there is after. I cling to the now, to this blissful moment, scared to face the new world and the possibilities it holds.

Too soon the song ends and our moment is over. Austin steps away quickly, not even looking at me. I’m desperate to see his face, to know he’s as affected as I am. But he doesn’t let me.