Noah just stares at me. Each second that passes where he says nothing in response makes me self-conscious about what I just told him. Then, to my surprise, he leans closer, cups my cheek and kisses me.

His lips are warm and soft against mine, his stubble grazing me. I’m frozen. Not only am I finally experiencing my first kiss, it’s with Noah. Without thinking, I lean into the kiss, until I remember this is not something the two of us should do at all. I pull back, rubbing my lips together, his kiss still present on them.

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

“It’s a damn shame your pretty lips were never appreciated like they deserve, sweetheart,” he says, his gaze half-lidded. “I felt like I needed to fix that.”

I blush. “But it’s wrong. We’re not supposed to kiss. I mean, a quick one on the cheek is fine, but not like what you just did.”

He lets out a soft scoff. “Oh, please. That kiss was too sweet to mean anything. You can give one like that to just about anyone. Let me show you the kind of kiss I shouldn’t be giving you, sweetheart.”