“I think I’ll risk it.” He takes another step in my direction. “And if I were to, say, ask you to dinner sometime or something, you would say . . .”

I laugh. “That’s very subtle. I would say yes. Definitely yes.”

He squeezes my hand. I stare down at our linked fingers. Am I floating? I must be floating. I can’t feel my head. Or my legs. My whole body is made of air. This is so surreal.

I take a breath and then one of his hands lifts to my cheek, tilting my head back. His lips brush against mine, a soft slide of pressure. He pulls back to look into my eyes.

His hand releases mine to cradle the other side of my face. He smiles once, a quick movement, his whole face alight for a blink of time, and then he’s kissing me again and holy crap he is good at this. His lips are warm and soft, but unrelenting. He kisses like he does everything else, with confident abandon, forcing my complete surrender. When his tongue brushes against mine, my insides turn into goo and my knees get weak. His arm moves around my waist, pulling me closer.

I don’t have any time to worry about my lips being chapped or my breath smelling like booze or any of the things I normally fret over because my mind is full of Alex. Only him. His smell, his fingers on my waist, the firm warmth of his body pressed against me. I push closer, craving more, needing all of it. His hand is a tender pressure on my face, fingers tracing my cheek. My arms are trapped between us and I pull them out, with every intention of wrapping them around his neck, but instead I accidently knock him in the chin with the backs of my hands.

He jerks back.

“Oh gosh, I’m so, so sorry.” Heat floods my face. I’m sure I’m bright red. I’ve ruined this magical moment.

He’s stunned for a second and then he laughs, exposing the strong column of his throat.

“Jane.” He leans his forehead against mine, still chuckling. “Don’t worry, it’s perfect.” Hot breath puffs against my lips, his mouth only inches from mine, a tempting torment, but then he pulls back. “So, dinner? Tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

It’s not perfect. Our first kiss and I punched him in the face.

But the bright side is I get a redo.

This time, I’m ready. I keep my hands at my side so when he leans in, I immediately raise them to his shoulders, sliding up to his neck as his mouth hits mine.

It’s just as magical as before. More magical, since the threat of punching him in the face has been eliminated—for now.