“How have you never kissed anyone, ever?” Dean’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as he leaned back against the bleachers, his gaze flickering over you with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

You shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady as you explained your crisis, but Dean could see the vulnerability behind your words. The moment hung between you for a beat.

Then Dean laughed—loud, boisterous, unapologetic. It echoed off the empty stands, breaking the tension.

“Oh my God, that’s so lame,” he said, shaking his head, clearly amused. Then, as if realizing he’d been a little harsh, his expression softened. “I mean, that sucks.”

He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “But c’mon, that’s lame as hell.”

Dean’s grin was genuine now, but there was an edge of something more—something like understanding, like maybe he knew exactly what it felt like to be on the outside looking in.