Chapter One
Ava
Eight Years Ago
I stand in the middle of the crowded living room, my heart drumming a staccato beat against my ribcage. The rules of the game echo in my ears as I try to focus, my mind a whirlwind of anticipation and nerves. My first kiss will be with a complete stranger. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
Am I ready for this? Part of me wants to dive in headfirst, to embrace the unknown and experience something new. But another part, the insecure girl who's always felt unworthy of love, whispers doubts in the back of my mind. What if I'm terrible at it? What if they laugh at me?
My senses are on high alert, every sensation magnified. The mingled scents of expensive cologne and perfume fill my nostrils, a heady mix that makes my head spin. Brushing past silk dresses and tailored suits, the fabrics caress my skin like whispers of promises yet to come.
"Are you nervous?" a voice beside me asks, barely audible over the music. I turn to see a girl I vaguely recognize from earlier, her eyes alight with mischief and understanding.
I force a smile, trying to project the baddie energy I desperately wish I possessed. "Of course not. It's just a kiss, right?"
She laughs, but not in an unkind way. “If that’s all you want, but it doesn’t have to be.” She gives me an exaggerated wink, and I swallow the pit of nerves that seems to be permanently caught at the back of my throat.
Her words strike a chord, and for a moment, I let my guard down. "I just...I don't want to mess it up, you know? What if I'm not good at it?"
She squeezes my arm reassuringly. "Trust me, whoever walks through that door is going to be just as nervous as you are. Just go with the flow and enjoy the moment."
I nod, taking her advice to heart as we reach the closet door. This is it. The moment I've been both dreading and anticipating. As I step inside, the darkness envelops me like a comforting embrace, the sounds of the party fading to a muffled hum.
My heart pounds in my ears, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I close my eyes, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. You can do this, Ava. It's just a kiss.
But deep down, I know it's more than that. It's a chance to shed my insecurities, to prove to myself that I'm worthy of this moment. That I'm worthy of being wanted, even if it's just for a fleeting instant in the dark.
I pull the sleep mask over my eyes. The anonymity is part of why it’s so exciting, after all.
The girl’s voice is muffled through the door as she says, “She’s in there waiting for you.” There’s humor in her voice, and my heart skips a beat.
The door opens, then clicks shut.
I hear the rustle of fabric, the soft intake of breath, and I know I'm no longer alone. The air thickens, charged with a current of anticipation, of possibility.
My heart races, a harsh beat against my ribcage, as I feel the warmth of another body, so close, yet still untouchable. And as I inhale, catching the scent of cologne, of something uniquely masculine and so familiar, I let myself surrender to the moment, to the promise of a kiss that could change everything.
My fingers tremble as I reach out, grazing the soft fabric of a shirt, the contours of a chest. And as I tilt my head, my lips parting in invitation, I feel the whisper of breath against my skin, the ghost of a touch that sends shivers down my spine.
This is it. The beginning and the end, the culmination of every hope and fear, every secret longing.
“Kiss me,” I breathe.
There’s a pregnant pause, and then a masculine voice whispers, “Are you sure?”
His hand cups my cheek, and I close my eyes despite the mask keeping me blind.
“Please.”
His lips find mine, soft and gentle at first, a whisper of a touch that sends shivers down my spine. The kiss deepens, and I'm lost in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the way his body molds to mine, like we were made for each other.
It's everything I've ever wanted, this moment, this connection. The world falls away, and there's only him, only us, suspended in time, lost in the magic of my first kiss. My mind spins, trying to process the overwhelming emotions that flood through me–surprise, delight, and a longing so intense it takes my breath away.
I don't know who he is, this stranger who has captured me with a single kiss, but in this moment, it doesn't matter. All that matters is the way he makes me feel, the way his touch ignites a fire within me, the way his presence fills the empty spaces in my soul.
We break apart, breathless and dazed, and I lean my forehead against his chest, trying to steady myself, to anchor myself in the reality of what just happened. My heart races, my skin tingles, and I can still taste him on my lips, a reminder of the passion we've just shared.
I want to say something, to find the words to express the depth of what I'm feeling, but my mind is blank, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. And so, I simply cling to him, my fingers curled into his shirt, my body trembling with the aftershocks of our kiss.
In this moment, I am oblivious to the world around us, to the party outside, to the fact that I don't even know his name. All I know is that I've found something rare and precious, something I never knew I was missing until now.
Or maybe it’s just the excitement of kissing a stranger in the dark.
* * *
Marcus
I should not be kissing my best friend’s baby sister.
Well, baby is a stretch. She’s twenty-one now, which everyone can pretty much agree is an adult. Still, it feels wrong. Even if she is only two years younger than me, I’m leagues ahead of her as far as life experience goes. I’ve got a few clients for the data security company I’m running out of my apartment, and I’m almost making enough money to start hiring other people.
Namely, my brothers.
I jerk away, and she asks, “Are you okay?”
I don’t answer, though. Instead, I rush out of the closet of the sorority house where this weekend’s blowout party is being hosted.
“Watch it, dude!” some douchey-looking rich guy wearing literal cargo shorts says as I shove by, my hands shaking from anxiety.
The thrumming bass and shouting voices and pungent mix of sweat and perfume and cologne is too much. I need to get the fuck out of this building.
“Sorry,” I mumble, rushing by until I make it to the front door.
The music from outside is still there, but outside is blessedly quiet in comparison. I stride over to my car, a piece of shit Ford Taurus from the nineties that runs purely out of my spite for the damn thing. I start it up on the third try, and the silence inside is absolute fucking bliss.
Until I realize I can still taste her on my lips.
Ava motherfucking Ross. My best friend’s sister.
She asked me to kiss her.
Practically begged.
I snap the rubber hair tie against my wrist so I have something to focus on other than the overstimulation threatening to take over. I’m usually pretty good at composing myself in social situations, at masking my discomfort, but Ava has always had a way of turning me inside-out. So when Martin called to tell me his sister was at a party at Wellerton, I didn’t have the time to prepare myself. I just fucking drove.
When my breathing finally evens out, I dig my phone out of my pocket and shoot off a text to Ava.
I’m outside in my car. I’ll give you a ride back to your dorm.
Three dots appear, disappear, reappear. It’s like I’m holding my breath for the tiny bit of air I need to survive. Ava holds me in that much of a chokehold.
Best friend’s sister.
Off-limits.
Ava Ross
Okay
She doesn’t argue, and something prickles at the back of my mind, a warning signal of some sort. She knows I’m here, though. She kissed me back with such ferocity that I feel like I’m either flying or falling apart.
I watch the front door of the sorority house, and my heart drops. She’s walked out by that douchebag who wore his damn polo and cargo shorts to a party in the middle of February. His arm is slung over her shoulders, and when she gestures at my car, he looks up, and a slow, cruel smile spreads over his lips as he watches me.
Then, he leans down and kisses her, his movements slow and languid.
I wait for her to stop him, to pull away, so I can storm over and kick his ass.
She doesn’t, though, so I don’t.
When she’s done kissing that asshole just minutes after kissing me, he walks her over to the car, helps her in, and says to me, “Get her home safe, bro. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my girlfriend.”
I glare at him, but I don’t say anything. Ava is sitting silently in the passenger seat, gripping the seatbelt over her chest.
She has a boyfriend? Then why did she kiss me?
I put the car in gear, but it screeches as I push on the gas.
Fucking piece of shit.
I put it back in park, then back into drive. Thankfully, it works this time. Sometimes, it takes for or five times for the damn thing to catch.
Then, I pull away from the party.
“Why are you here?” Ava asks quietly. I glance over, but she isn’t looking at me. “Did Martin call you?”
There’s no sense in lying to her. “Yup.”
She sighs. “You guys need to stop treating me like a child. I’m about to graduate a year early, with honors I should mention. And then I’m getting my law degree. I’m not some bratty kid.”
She doesn’t mention the kiss, because of course she doesn’t. She was caught in the heat of the moment. Her boyfriend probably reamed her out when she walked out of the closet back into the party.
“I know you’re not,” I say simply. Part of the reason I enjoy Ava’s company is that I don’t have to mask around her. When I can’t bring myself to grin and be sociable, she doesn’t take it personally. To change the subject, I ask, “Your boyfriend seems…He’s something.”
She shrugs. “I guess. He’s in a couple of my pre-law courses.” There’s something else, but she isn’t saying it.
Tell me this meant something, I want to say. Tell me you feel this, too.
The words are locked up deep inside me, though. I don’t go nonverbal often, but when I do, it’s physically painful for me to try to speak. Like forcing myself to touch a burning hot stove.
I pull up to the dorm building, and she sighs and unbuckles.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says. “I didn’t really want to walk back in the cold, and my friends bailed on me.”
I nod, and she climbs out, turning to face me like she’s going to speak. Hope springs up in my chest, but she closes her mouth and turns around, leaving me behind.
Fine. If she doesn’t want to talk about the kiss, I won’t. I’ll take it to my damn grave if that’s what she needs.
And I damn well won’t let her know that she fucking ruined my first kiss.