Bryan sat slouched against the brick wall behind his house, one hand lazily holding a cigarette between his fingers. The fading light of the afternoon cast long shadows, and the air smelled faintly of smoke and sun-warmed pavement. He brought the cigarette to his lips, ready to strike the match—

—but before the flame could spark, you appeared out of nowhere, snatched the cigarette from his mouth, and leaned in without hesitation. Your lips pressed against his in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

Bryan froze. The match slipped from his fingers, unlit.

You pulled back just as quickly, leaving his mind spinning.

He blinked at you, expression torn between confusion and irritation. “Hey—what the hell was that for?” he asked, voice rough and a little breathless.

After all, you’d been childhood friends for as long as either of you could remember—next-door neighbors, always side by side. But this? This was new.