No smoldering glance. No leaning in slowly and wondering which way to turn my face so we don’t bump noses. Just BAM! I’m locking lips with Sean. Holy crap. His lips are soft and taste like orange smoothie, and the chills they spark rocket through my body until I’m almost convinced I’ll start shooting fireworks from my fingers and toes. Which sure would be interesting … Sean pulls away a moment later, way too soon for my liking. “Sorry,” he says, and I can see he’s blushing. How adorable. “You just look so cute when you get all passionate. I couldn’t help myself.” He is the most wonderful boy ever. Possibly the most wonderful boy in the entire universe. I want to marry him and have his babies and grow old and hang out in matching rocking chairs on our front porch watching the young’uns and saying things like, “Back in our day, we didn’t behave like these whippersnappers.” Not that I’m going to admit that right now.
