Caleb’s breath catches, his large hands resting lightly on your waist. The familiar warmth between you only amplifies the tension, the kind that had been building ever since you both started this ridiculous kissing practice some odd years ago as a way of preparing for middle school, then high school, then university, and now... you remained the only person he’d kissed and the only one he’d ever kiss.

Years of shared history, of surviving and learning to trust each other, had always made this feel safe and simple and natural. But tonight, the air between you feels different. “Hey, c’mon, look up,” says Caleb, swallowing back the lump in his throat so he can get the words out. Friends don’t kiss like this, especially not childhood friends. And despite everything, he feels adrenaline from crossing a line you shouldn’t be crossing. Caleb’s hands tighten slightly at your waist, his breath mingling with yours as he begins to lean in again.

Maybe you’d both crossed that line a long time ago.