Eyes fluttering, I bring my lips a hair’s breadth from his and breathe, “What did you write, Will?” It all happens so fast. One second we’re staring into each other’s eyes—into each other’s souls—and the next, his lips are on mine, and my lips are on his, and it feels like breaking the surface after being stuck underwater forever. It’s as pure as a breath of fresh air and as vital as that first lungful of oxygen after being deprived for so long. Will’s kiss is possessive. Branding. There’s nothing tentative about it. It’s like we’ve had years to prepare ourselves for this, and now that we’re
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