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Once. Right at the hairline. His mouth warm and barely there.

I open my eyes.

He’s right there. So close I can see the gold flecks in the green. He’s looking at me like he doesn’t know what he just did either. Like he meant to do something else and couldn’t make himself, not yet.

He lowers his face.

He stops with his mouth an inch from mine. I can feel his breath on my lips. I can feel everything, every part of me pointed at that inch.

“Tess.”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And he kisses me.

It’s soft. It’s so soft. His mouth on mine, careful, warm, holding there for a second, two seconds, and nothing else, no more than that. Then he pulls back.

And I take a whole step backward because I feel dizzy. The floor of his bedroom tilts because Rafferty Waleska just kissed me.

I kissed Rafferty Waleska.

He’s looking at me. His hand still on my waist where it followed me when I stepped back. I can see him reading my face for whatever just happened, waiting to find out if it was bad.

And his eyes are dark.

Not almost-brown. Not the cafeteria. Not the stairwell. Dark like the room is dark, wide and deep, and on my mouth.

I know that color. I’ve seen it before.

I close the gap and kiss him again.

I do it badly. I go up on my toes too fast and misjudge it, and my nose knocks into the side of his, and our mouths land crooked, half on and half off. And he makes a low sound in his chest, almost a laugh, and I feel it go through both of us.

Then his hand comes up to the side of my face, and he tips my head, just a little, just enough, and he kisses me back properly.

It’s still careful. I can feel that it’s careful. I can feel him holding it, his hand flat on my waist and not moving, his mouth slow on mine. He’s showing me. Exactly what I asked him to.

When he pulls back again, I don’t step away this time. I stay right where I am with my hand still on his face, letting my heart gallop in my chest.

He’s breathing hard. I can feel it against me.

He looks wrecked.

I put my other hand back on his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“No,” he says.

It’s so honest that something pinches in my stomach.

“Why?”

He closes his eyes just for a second. When he opens them, they’re still dark.