When we finally pulled away, I glanced over at Banjo, feeling the tiniest bit guilty, even though he’d been the one to dare me. I expected to see jealousy in his eyes. But all I saw was heat. “Well, fuck.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lit one up, not even bothering to crack a window. On the exhale he murmured, “If you two are gonna kiss like that, then I need a smoke. And maybe a cold shower. That was hot.”
