Breathing heavily through my nose, I glance at Stacey getting to her feet. Oh shit. This is happening. Nope. I can’t fucking kiss her. I know I’m turning the brightest shade of red, hands shaking. I watch the girl I’ve obsessed over since I was fifteen strut towards the tent with no care in the world, her hips swaying, hair falling down her back – frozen until Base taps me. It’s only a kiss. I’m fucking old enough to handle a kiss.
