I forgot about the coin toss, forgot that it’s all up to me. It’s empowering to have him like this, stilled in front of me, waiting for me. I run my hand up his chest and behind his neck. I have to raise up on my knees to meet his face with mine. My lips brush his, and he takes a sharp breath in. Yes, I like this. Knowing how much he wants me to kiss him, making him wait for me. But I don’t have any control either. On contact, our lips move together, and his hands are at my waist, pulling me closer, until our legs are intertwined and I’m almost on his lap.

“You’re mean,” he says, as his lips move to my ear, then my neck. It tickles, and I roll my head away, directing him back to my lips. Behind him the waves glow, casting us in a soft blue shadow. We kiss for what feels like forever, but also not long enough at all, until our lips are swollen and we’re lying on the blanket, pressed up against each other. My tank top is riding up around my ribcage, and my hands are under Aiden’s shirt, and I’m starting to think we’ve been kissing too long; that if we don’t stop now, we won’t ever.

As if it has a direct line to my brain, Aiden’s pocket starts ringing—a bouncy sound I recognize as an alarm—and he pulls away. He takes his phone out, swipes the screen, and returns it to his pocket. He sits up and pulls me along with him, pulling my shirt down and sweeping away a chunk of hair that’s come loose from my ponytail. “Sorry, but we don’t want to miss this.” He stands up and puts his hand out. “One last thing.” He hoists me up and we walk through the trees, away from his beautiful wall. The ground gets sandier as we go, and soon the forest empties out into tall swaths of grass. I hear the first explosion just as the edge of the dune comes into sight. “Hurry!” Aiden pulls me, and we’re running, clearing the last few trees and bushes, our hands still intertwined. I hear another explosion and turn toward the sound on my right, just as a sparkling gold firework bursts in the sky. Then another goes off on my left. We come to a stop at the edge of the bluff, the sand and dune-grass sloping down in front of us until it disappears into the blackness of the lake.

Wow.

“Best spot,” Aiden says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back into his chest. He points to the left—“The Riverton fireworks”—and to the right—“and those are South Hills.”

“I thought fireworks were overrated,” I say.

“I thought you didn’t like ‘outdoorsy stuff.’”

“I like it with you.”