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Dreaming about the boy next door

Is being voted Most Likely To: Never Have Their First Kiss by the popular crowd at school the end of the world? Probably not, but I’m still not convinced.

Does it mean that I have to find someone to kiss to ditch myself of the label? No, but I do it anyway.

Is choosing my best friend’s twin brother as my first kiss the best choice? Ha, not in the slightest. But when he walks into his kitchen after midnight shirtless, inspiration strikes.

Even though it’s a bad, bad idea.

Because what is supposed to be a quick, three-second peck of awkwardness in the middle of their dark kitchen turns into however many seconds of pure bliss. I’m talking the kind of kiss in a rom-com that totally would’ve made me blush. The kind that makes your toes curl.

For my first kiss ever, Reed Manning isn’t holding back.

But now he makes it crystal clear: the kiss that was life-changing to me means nothing to him. He’s already got his next girl lined up on his own list of Brentwood High’s most eligible, and it’s not his little sister’s best friend.

Except that kiss totally messed with my brain chemistry, and I find myself thinking about Reed in ways I never have before. In ways my best friend would hate me for.

Even when I shouldn’t, I find myself dreaming about the boy next door.