It doesn’t even qualify as touching. He’s carefully not touching me, in fact—his fingertips brushing lightly through my hair without even reaching my scalp. Reaching up, I wrap my own fingers around his wrist and meet his gaze. His eyes light up at the contact, so I tug him forward and tip my chin up. I’m done overthinking this. I want to kiss him. Nate leans down and presses his smiling mouth to mine, gentle and barely there. A proper first-date hello kiss, and not the kiss I really wanted. When I scowl, he laughs and comes back for another, lingering this time around. God, had I really
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