Despite Jesse’s text message suggesting otherwise, he didn’t kiss me that day. In fact, it was as if he’d forgotten all about his agreement to help me overcome this hurdle. The more the days dragged on, the less inclined I was to bring it up, because a million doubts flooded my mind.

He was trying to be nice. He forgot. He’s hoping you forgot.

So here we are, nearly four months later and still no kiss, from Jesse or anyone else, for that matter. My anxiety increases daily because Tod—yes, the same Tod from the party—asked me to the movies tomorrow night. I know he’s going to kiss me, or at least try to, and I can’t go in there cold. I’m too awkward. Too inexperienced. I need Jesse’s help because I’m crazy nervous, no matter how many Buzzfeed articles I’ve read or how many clips I’ve watched. What I’m most worried about are my hands. What do I do with my fucking hands?

Today is my only chance, and I pray that I’ll have the courage to ask him. Again. Jesse’s picking me up in a half hour for our monthly “lake dive.” It’s the third time we’re taking the plunge, and its by far the coldest it’s been—I’m not looking forward to it.

It’s a typical Saturday morning at my house. Dad is working an extra shift at the station. Did you know, statistically, there are more break-ins around Christmas than any other time of the year? Mom took Mikayla to ballet practice so I have the whole house to myself.

I slept in a little later than I probably should have and have to rush to get ready. I put my bathing suit on first—a one piece this time because I need all the coverage I can get—and pull on Jesse’s old navy blue Adams Vikings Basketball hoodie that he let me borrow months ago and I never returned. Jeans and sneakers are last. I pull my damp hair into a clip without bothering to style it since I’ll be in a freezing ass lake very soon.

Jesse texts me a little after eleven to let me know he’s done with practice and is on his way over. By the time I make it downstairs, he’s already in the driveway. The drive to the lake is short, and once parked, we stare at each other across the console. It’s as though neither one of us wants to leave the warmth of the car. I check the weather app on my phone: twenty-nine degrees. He leans over to see the temperature and shakes his head. We have a decision to make, and we silently communicate our options with our eyes.

Option A: Go in and risk hypothermia.

Option B: We both get a pass this month, but the competition is still on.

Option C: One of us goes in and the other loses.

We both shake our heads. Not Option C, because neither of us wants to back down.

“What do you say, Ry?” Jesse reaches for his door handle. “We doing this?”

I nod, following his lead down to the dock. Thankfully, there’s no snow blocking our path, but once we get near the edge, we can see certain glassy patches of water that have crusted over with a thin sheet of ice.

No freaking way I’m going in.

“Uh-uh. No way.” I shake my head as I back away from the edge. “Not happening.”

“You forfeiting?” He cocks his head to one side. “That means I win.”

I roll my eyes. “Only if you go in.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

Yes. Maybe. “No.”

He shrugs off his coat and hands it to me. “Jesse.” My voice booms in the quiet, my breath a puff of white smoke. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He looks at me over his shoulder. “A bet is a bet—”

“Fine, fine.” I cut him off. “You win. You win.” I spread my hand wide. “Just please don’t go in there. You’ll get hypothermia.”

He gives me a look that says, “You’re being dramatic,” before stripping off his sweatshirt and jeans.

“Jesse!” I shriek, right as he dives into the water.

In a panic, I rush to the edge of the dock, gathering his discarded clothes along the way. I clutch the garments to my chest, and time seems to stand still. I count the seconds.

One…

Two…

Three—

Three long, dreadful seconds pass before his head pops up from beneath the water. “Fuck!” he curses, paddling full force. “Fuck! It’s cold.”

I drop the clothes and extend my hands to help pull him up. Once he’s out of the water, I band my arms around him, pulling him flush against me. I read somewhere that body heat, physical proximity, is the fastest way to raise core body temperature. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, and his cool lips press against my skin, causing me to shiver.

“You’re such an idiot.” I try to make my voice sound angry, but my concern and worry bleed through. I stretch my coat around him, pulling him closer and walk us toward the car. “Get in.” I point toward the passenger side. “I’ll drive.”

He raises an eyebrow at my authoritative tone.

I walk to the driver’s side and open the door. “Right now, the only thing you need to worry about is getting warm.”

He gets in and slams the door.

* * *

An hour later we’re in Jesse’s bedroom. He took an extremely long, extremely hot shower while I made him a mug of hot cocoa with extra fluff—just the way he likes it.

“Thanks,” he says, taking another big sip of the cocoa. “I’m finally starting to warm up.” He sets the mug down and his hand falls to his crotch. My eyes trace the movement, but I turn away, embarrassed when I realize what he’s doing: adjusting his junk.

He catches me looking anyway. “Just checking.” He laughs. “For a minute I thought my balls were gone for good.”

“What?” I question, confused.

“Cold water? Makes your dick and—”

I feel the blush on my face. God, sometimes I’m so naïve. “Yeah, I get it.”

Grabbing the blanket off the foot of the bed, I plop down next to him near the headboard and shimmy my butt against his hip so he moves over. He scoots to the side, and I drape the blanket over our legs.

“That was stupid. Promise you won’t ever do something like that again.” I pinch his side.

He pinches me back. “Won’t have to, since…I won.” He gently taps the side of his face with his finger. “Now, as for my favors—”

“Favor,” I clarify before he gets any ideas. “You get one.”

He nods his head. “Then I better make it good.”

I groan inwardly. He’s probably going to make me do something embarrassing, although after tomorrow’s date with Tod it won’t even matter, because I’ll be the laughingstock of the entire school.

“Maybe I’ll have you write my lit paper.”

I shake my head. “No thanks.”

“It’s my favor. I get to choose.”

“Yeah, but that paper is due next Monday.” I tick my fingers. “And it has to be ten pages long. And I’m pretty sure you haven’t even started it yet.”

He shrugs. “Okay, then, something else...” He closes his eyes in concentration.

“Jesse,” I whisper after a long minute.

“Shh. I’m thinking.”

“Jesse,” I whisper again. Just do it, Riley. Ask him. It’s now or never.

“Mm?” he whispers back, with eyes closed and hands resting atop his belly.

I swallow my nerves, take a deep breath and blurt the words, “Will you kiss me?”

His eyes pop open and he springs forward with impressive speed. “What?” He turns to face me. “What did you say?”

I square myself to face him and repeat the words, even though my face burns with embarrassment. “Will you kiss me?”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, I begin babbling. “You said you’d help me, show me… I still have never…”

He cups my chin with his fingertips, and I stop rambling. “You and Tod still haven’t… I just thought…” I can’t pinpoint the emotion I hear in his voice; maybe it’s a touch of hope, a little bit of wonder, a whole lot of incredulity.

I bite my bottom lip and shake my head.

“Riley.” He drags his fingers down my jaw. “Are you sure about this? I mean, do you want your first kiss to be with me?”

“Yes,” I agree, but then say, “No.”

He pulls back, eyes narrowed and intense. “What does that even mean?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the pleading tone that infiltrates my voice. “I need to do this now, here with you, to know if I’m doing it right. Please.”

He leans into me. “And you’re sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.” The word whispers across his skin.

His eyes draw to my mouth, to where my lips have parted ever so slightly in invitation. One hand loops around my neck to draw me closer. My body trembles as he closes the distance between us, his lips grazing mine. Soft and gentle, like tiny butterfly wings fluttering against my skin. The touch is feather light, barely there, yet every ounce of my being pulses where our lips meet.

My eyes fall closed as he angles his head and increases the pressure.

Tingles begin deep within my belly, tiny bursts of excitement and need and want. When he traces my lips with his tongue, my hands reach for his shirt to pull him closer. Funny how my body responds so naturally; I was so worried about my damn hands, but in this moment I’m not thinking about them at all. All I’m thinking is more.

He nips my bottom lip and growls when I open for him—a deep, needy sound I’ve never heard him make before. And then I’m being pushed back against the pillows and Jesse is nestled between my legs. He tears his lips away, and I whine in protest until his lips find my neck. He’s playful at first, a nibble, a gentle bite, but then he sucks hard and my nails dig into his biceps.

“Riley,” he whispers against my neck. And it feels incredible, so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and a large part of me wonders what the fuck I was ever afraid of.

He drags his nose across my jaw, his lips inches from mine, poised for another kiss, when my phone beeps, a loud, shrill sound signaling a new message. We both jump apart. My breath is sped up and my skin is hot to the touch. I brush my fingertips over my swollen lips. “Is it always like that?” I croak, voice hoarse.

He leans back, scrubs a hand through his hair, and I miss the warmth, the shelter of his strong arms holding me in place. “Sometimes.”

The butterflies in my belly swarm. If this is what kissing Jesse is like, I could only imagine what it’ll be like to kiss Tod, because holy shit that kiss was intense.

My phone beeps again alerting me of the unopened message, and I roll off the bed and walk over to where my purse rests near the door. Finding my phone, I silence it without bothering to read the text. When I turn around, Jesse is seated at the foot of the bed, feet planted on the floor with his forearms resting on his thighs and head hanging heavy.

I sit next to him and lean my head on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He simply nods.

“Thanks for…” I clear my throat. “Thanks for helping me. I’m sorry you had to give your lame-ass friend her first kiss.”

He nods again. Why isn’t he talking? Dread hits me full force as the possibility that it was terrible for him washes over me. Maybe he doesn’t know how to tell me I suck. Maybe he feels bad for me because I’m pathetic and he wants to spare my feelings. I thought it was good, but then again, what do I know? Was I that bad?

I twist my palms. “W-was it okay?” I take a deep breath. “Was I okay?”

His head whips to face me, his clear blue eyes focused and intense. “It was perfect.” His gaze slips to my lips before returning to my eyes. “You are perfect.”

Flustered, I dip my head and mumble, “Thanks.” For a second the air remains charged between us, not easy and platonic, but sexual and needy. I’m not sure if it’s from our kiss or the awkward interruption, but I struggle to keep my eyes straight ahead and not on the obvious bulge in his crotch.

Shame washes over me as my thoughts spiral—how would he have felt, so hard and strong and big, touching me there? I blink my eyes, startled by my inappropriateness. This is Jesse. My best friend.

Shaking my head to dismiss my wayward thoughts, and wanting nothing more than to diffuse the weird vibe that is flowing between us, I ask, “So, now I guess I owe you two favors.”

His brow furrows, so I explain. “One for the bet, and one for the…” My voice trails off.

He shakes his head. “Consider your debt paid.”

Now it’s my turn to be confused. “Really?”

He nods his agreement. “Really.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, as I stretch my pinkie to the side and wait for him to hook his finger with mine. He pauses, his brows pinched together in thought, but then he interlocks our fingers.

With that simple gesture we’re back to normal. Our kiss, just another dot, another blip in the history of us that will be packed and filed away with all the other memories that bind our lives together.

I couldn’t have known that years later, I’d look back on this day and wonder and ask myself time and time again: How could I have been so blind?