I didn’t mean to kiss her.

It was just… one of those moments.

The rain. The porch. The way she looked at me like she was waiting for something — or maybe I just wanted her to be.

Our lips touched for two seconds. Maybe three.
Then she pulled back.

“I’m not mad,” she said softly. “But I’m not ready either.”

I nodded. Tried to smile. Tried not to drown in the sound of my heartbeat.

“Okay,” I whispered.

And then she hugged me — and that hurt more than if she’d slapped me.