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Prologue
Kieran
There are two things I've learned about myself within the past five hours.
Number one: I'm definitely not straight.
Number two: kissing a guy is really fucking fun.
As long as they're Evan, anyway. It's not as if I have any other experience in that particular department, but as far as I'm concerned, that only means 100% of the guys I’ve kissed, I love kissing.
"I'm in so much trouble," I whisper against his lips as I draw back, taking in his red cheeks. I wonder if they’re glowing because of the ice-cold January breeze blowing around us, or our kiss.
"Why?" The word feathers across my lips and sends a flutter through my stomach.
Because my heart is beating so fast, it might jump out of my ribcage. Because now that I know what it's like to kiss him, it's all I want to do for the rest of my birthday.
Because the moment my family learns of this, I'm fucked. And not in a good way.
Because if I put my hands on his hips and draw him in again, I’m not sure I want to let him go again.
“You might be the most addicting thing I've ever tasted.” I grin. His cheeks burn an even brighter shade of red, his ice-blue eyes darting away from me.
"Stop that." He playfully swats my chest and lowers his head, blonde hair falling into his face and hiding his adorable dimples. Well, I can’t have that. So I run my fingers through the strands, nudging him to look at me.
"Best birthday present ever." Hell, the best greeting ever.
His lips curl into a gentle grin. "Good to know the trip was worth it."
Was kissing him worth my ass hurting from the uncomfortable seat of my half-a-century old car, invented when ‘suspension system’ was not even in the wider vocabulary?
“So worth it.” I can’t stop staring at him. His long eyelashes. The sparkling earring. How he bites his lip in a feeble attempt to hide his smile.
Evan and I met online half a year ago, where we started chatting in the comments of a video about gay penguins.
One moment we’re bickering about who’s the top and who the bottom, then the next thing I know we’re in each other’s DMs . Before I knew it, our DMs turned into calls. And one day, I put the phone down and realized I had a crush on him. A big one.
‘Heart- fluttering- whenever- my- phone- lit- up- with- a- new- message’ -big, grinning like a fool at every heart emoji he sent.
He's only six months older than me. Obviously, I checked. I might be reckless, but meeting a stranger from the internet without making sure they’re about to groom or abduct me? Not a chance.
I might have a crush, but I also enjoy being alive very much.
"But I think the continuation of this should wait for another time." He puts his palm on my chest and gently pushes me a step back.
"Why?" I throw his word back at him with a face-splitting grin. "Because we're in the middle of the sidewalk?"
"Yes, because we're in the middle of the sidewalk." He rolls his eyes, but reaches for my hand and laces our glove-clad fingers. "I’m not trying to get locked up for public indecency."
"Right. That would be a bummer of an eighteenth birthday." We stare at each other. Fuck, he’s so cute, my stomach is tingling with happiness. And then, at the same time, our emotions bubble over and we burst into laughter.
"You know, initially I thought going to the movies would be fun," he explains, pulling on my hand until I fall into step with him.
As we trudge along the dimly lit street, dodging knee-high snow piles, my heart beats in my throat and my gaze sweeps over the deserted streets. We might be in a small town an hour away from my hometown, but fuck, I feel as if all eyes are on me, as if everybody's staring, and everybody's judging.
"But right now, I think it would be a pretty bad idea."
I glance at him. He subtly adjusts himself, and I bite my lip to keep my smile at bay. Yes, we’re teenage boys and a strong enough breeze would be enough to get either of us hard, but it’s flattering, nonetheless.
