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Lena: GIRL. Tell me everything.
Lena: Wake the fuck up right now before I die from anticipation.
Lena: MAYBE, WAKE UP.
Lena: Seriously, wake up. My nipples are all tingly and when my nipples tingle that means the seventh sun is in the house of fornication.
Lena: REALLY? No response to the house of fornication? That was clever as hell, and I’m disappointed in you.
Lena: Helloooooooooooooooooo?
I grin and type out a response.
Me: Well, good morning to you, too. And for future reference, I track my behaviors on the SIXTH sun. The seventh was just one too many.
Lena: There’s no time for your little jokes, friend. I need to know what happened last night.
My cheeks blush and my lips tingle just thinking about the perfect, almost unbelievable sensation of Milo Ives’s lips on mine.
Me: Well…it was no house of fornication, but I did kiss him.
Lena: YES. YES. YES. I knew it! How was it?
Me: If I were less in control of my emotions, I’d probably cry every time I think about it.
Lena: Holy hell! You may be in control of your emotions, but I am NOT. I feel like a proud momma. I literally might start sobbing.
I laugh.
Me: No need to cry, Yoda. It was just…a really great kiss. No big deal.
Lena: NO BIG DEAL? C’mon, Mayb. You and I both know that wasn’t JUST anything. We’re talking you and MILO. That was a freaking milestone. It was something you’ve been waiting to happen for like a decade now.
More than a decade, actually. But no need to get lost into the logistics.
Me: I know. Honestly, I’m still having a hard time believing it happened.
Lena: It happened, girl. It mother-flipping-fucking-sucking happened. So…after the kiss, how did it end?
I’m still shocked I had the willpower to be the one to end it. It was like I somehow channeled the Hulk and forced myself not to turn into a bumbling, rambling weirdo.
Me: Well…I just kind of ended the kiss and told him good night.
Lena: You did what????
I grimace and bite my lip.
Me: Was that wrong?
Lena: Was that wrong??? Hell no. That was genius, my friend. Fucking genius. And it’s official. I am a proud momma, and I’m going to cry.
Me: LOL. Slow your roll, momma. I need your sage advice on what I’m supposed to do next.
Lena: What do you want to do next?
What do I want to do next? I honestly have no fucking clue.
Me: I’m not really sure yet, but that reminds me of something I overheard when I was at Starbucks the other morning.
Lena: Excuse me? Did you just say Starbucks?
I grin.
Me: Chill out. It wasn’t for me. It was a coffee run for my dad.
Lena: I’ll let it slide. This time. But if I ever hear and/or see you type that name again, I reserve the right to smack you.
Me: HA. Noted.
Lena: So…don’t leave me hanging here. What did you hear at that shitty, overpriced, terrible coffee establishment?
Me: These two girls were chatting about DP. They said it was the most intensely awesome sexual experience they’ve ever had. I think I want to try it…
Lena: Give me a second…currently trying to revive myself. This bout of laughter was officially too much.
Me: What? Why is this funny?
Lena: Do you know what DP is?
Me: No, not really.
But the way those chicks were quietly going on and on about it over Frappuccinos, I’m assuming whatever it is, it’s really good.
Lena: Now I know what your next step with Milo is.
Me: ?
Lena: Text him and tell him exactly what you just told me.
Me: About DP?
Lena: Uh-huh.
Me: What in the hell do I say? “Oh hey, I want to try DP”?
Lena: Oh yes, honey. That’s pretty much perfect.
I take a sip of my coffee and shrug to myself.
It’s not like Lena’s advice has ever steered me in the wrong direction.
Milo
Although I planned to take Saturday off from work, when Emily—one of Fuse’s top finance gurus—called me about a discrepancy that needed to be worked out, I found myself getting out of bed about three hours earlier than I planned and heading into the office.
Being in the back seat with nothing to do while Sam drove proved to be a test of my sanity.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Maybe, that stupid party, and that really and truly stupid kiss.
Goddamn, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have backed away instead of leaning in, held my ground in the name of self-preservation.
But I’m finding I’m powerless against her. Her sassy words and contagious giggle. Those big brown eyes and gorgeous smile. And the way those cheeks of hers blush when she’s feeling embarrassed…
Fuck… She is apparently my kryptonite.
And even knowing that, I’d do it all over again. It’s all too much—the sweet smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her body, the absolutely perfect sensation of her lips under mine—and when it comes to her, I fear I’d do just about anything, rational thought be damned.
