And then he’s kissing me. I’ve imagined this moment, dreamed of it off and on since before I even had my first kiss. But nothing prepared me for how incredible it would actually be. His hand rests comfortably on the small of my back as his soft, full lips explore mine. He tastes like spearmint and vodka, or maybe I taste like vodka—I’m not sure anymore. All I know is there’s no barrier between him and I. There’s just us. I don’t know if I’m dizzy from the lack of oxygen or the alcohol, but I don’t care. I want to be dizzy. I want his lips on mine, his tongue tasting mine. I want more of it.
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