Lana's Ex Prom Date Part 16

"Me too," I said. Every inch of my body was nervous. This was it, right? The moment I'd get my first kiss with Bennet?

But it didn't happen. He took a step backward, smiled, and then gave a little wave before turning and jogging down my porch steps. I stood there and watched him walk past Ashlyn's house, and up the sidewalk and then into his own house.

And now it's the next day and I can't stop reliving that moment. After all these years of friendship, I guess I thought we wouldn't take it slow when we decided to date. But now I'm all tangled up inside and I can't stand the not knowing. Did Bennet want to kiss me, too? Did he even think about it?

What if things don't change at all now that we're together? I don't want Bennet to have the t.i.tle of being my boyfriend if all we're going to do is keep acting like best friends.

I roll over in bed and check the time. It's only seven-thirty and it's way too early to wake up Ashlyn to talk about my problems. So I lie here, face up in bed, thinking about Bennet.

And then my phone gets a new text message.

Bennet: You awake?

Me: Yes Bennet: come to the door I sit up in bed, and look over at my bedroom door, which is open and there's no one standing in the hallway. My heartbeat quickens and I throw off the blankets and pad down to the front door. Mom is still asleep since it's Sunday and it's her only day off this week.

I pull open the front door and Bennet is there. He's in his pajamas, his hair all a mess from sleeping on it. It doesn't matter that I've seen him in this very state of bedhead countless times before. Right now it's definitely the cutest he's ever looked.

"Good morning," he says, holding out a cup of coffee from Starbucks.

"Starbucks?" I say, taking the cup. "But it's so expensive."

He shrugs. "It's worth it."

"What's worth it?" I ask. Then I take a sip of my coffee.

"That," he says, pointing to me. "That smile you get when you drink the good stuff."

I didn't even know I was smiling, but now I can't stop it.

"You got up early in the morning to bring me coffee?" I say, taking another sip. "That's really sweet, but you don't have to do stuff like that now that you're my boyfriend."

"Oh, that isn't why I got up early," he says. "Seeing you smile is a bonus, but I've been up all night pretty much. I couldn't sleep. So I waited until a reasonable time to come over here and do what I should have done last night."

My breath catches in my throat. "And what is that?"

He gestures to the little table on our porch. "You might want to set your coffee down."

I do, bending over to carefully set down the cup on the rickety wooden surface. When I turn back toward Bennet, his strong arms swoop me off the ground.

I squeal as I'm lifted up, my legs going around his waist. "Bennet!" I say, holding onto him.

"I should have kissed you," he whispers, his head tilting up to mine because I'm taller now that he's holding me up. A warmth floods into my stomach as I stare into his eyes.

"I wanted you to," I admit, my voice also a whisper.

"Let me make up for it." His arms squeeze me closer, his eyes closing just before his lips touch mine.

This time, the kiss is wanted. And I'm not the one making the first move. It's real, it's powerful. As Bennet's lips dance across mine, I feel every ounce of the love he has for me, all of it that he's held back for so long, it all comes rushing forward. His feelings slam into me, bursting open my heart is such a sweet way that it actually begins to ache for him. This is my Bennet. He's always been mine. I just took too long to realize it.

There's a hint of peppermint on his breath. His tongue slides across my bottom lip and everything inside of me awakens. I slide my hands through his hair and drink him in.

My back crashes against the wall as Bennet presses me against it, his kisses more ravaging with each second. My body aches for him, for these tender moments that have been held back for far too long.

I breathe him in, and thank the universe for bringing us together.

His eyes twinkle as he smiles at me before going in for another kiss. We may not be good dancers, but we are wonderful at making out. He smells like coffee, and shampoo, and a little like freshly baked bread from his house. I realize in this moment, that he smells just like home.

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Also by Amy Sparling.

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About the Author.

Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, Ella's Twisted Senior Year, Deadbeat & other awesome books for younger teens. She loves coffee, the beach, and swooning over book boyfriends.

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