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“New Year’s Eve is tomorrow,” I said. “A good midnight kiss is something I’ve never experienced. Not once.”
“Me neither,” Michael said.
“Really?”
“Really.”
We smiled and sank back into each other. We only left Michael’s bed to get food and use the bathroom. He and I both drifted in and out of sleep that night, holding each other tightly and kissing whenever we felt like it.
The next day, we went into town to get things for a celebration. New Year’s Eve was our way of making up for Christmas. We didn’t see each other then, so we wanted this holiday to be perfect, especially our midnight kiss.
We bought decorations and food, champagne and fancy glasses. It was a party just for us, but we didn’t care. We spent the entire day making preparations and getting everything ready.
“This is insane,” I said when everything was done. “I feel like we should invite the whole town over or something.”
I looked around the living room. It was covered in New Year’s decorations. The champagne bottle was chilling in a bucket of ice on the coffee table, two glasses placed on either side. Platters of food accompanied it, and we had a bowl of candy on every flat surface. It looked like the makings of a great night, but definitely not a quiet evening for two.
“We aren’t inviting anyone else,” Michael said firmly. “This is just for us. Just for you.”
He kissed me lightly and then twirled me around the living room. We danced for hours, laughing and letting the rest of the world slip away.
When it was almost midnight, we turned on the T.V. to watch the ball drop in New York City. It was also something neither of us had ever done.
“We’ll go one year,” Michael said. “We can watch it in person.”
“I heard New York is insane on New Year’s,” I said. “So many people.”
“Who cares?” Michael said. “We’ll still have fun.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go one year.”
Michael smiled and wrapped his arms around me. We watched as the countdown began. Michael whispered in my ear the entire time.
“Ten,” he said. “Nine… eight…”
I giggled as his warm breath tickled me. He kissed my earlobe with seven seconds left to go. At six, he kissed my cheek. At five, he kissed my nose.
“Four,” he said. “Three… two…”
His lips were inches from mine, and when the crowd in Time’s Square yelled “Happy New Year!” we were already kissing. It felt like the cheers on the T.V. were just for us. We stayed frozen in time, kissing in Michael’s living room, while the rest of the world celebrated the turning of the year.
Finally, Michael lifted me off my feet and carried me to the couch. We didn’t even try to make it to his bedroom before we tore at each other’s clothes.
EPILOGUE
MICHAEL
It was late June when Julie and I finally made it to Paris. I tried to take her sooner, but between work and Josh’s recovery, we just didn’t have the time. Finally, six months after our New Year’s kiss, we were on a plane flying to France. When we landed, it was late, and all we wanted to do was sleep. We spent most the night in our hotel, not leaving the bed unless we had to.
“What do you want to see today?” I asked her the next morning.
“The Eiffel Tower,” she said without missing a beat. “Of course.”
“That’s tonight,” I said. “I promise.”
“Why wait?” she asked. She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout that almost broke me, but I held my ground. I had big plans for us that night, and nothing, not even Julie’s impatience, was going to stand in the way.
“We have a reservation, remember?” I asked.
