You had never loved anyone the way you loved Weston Parker.

Wes was the love of your life. Completely and hopelessly in love, and you were certain he felt the same. For him, it had been love at first sight. For you, it had taken a little longer to come around. But once you did, you fell for him—hard.

The first time you met was at one of his soccer games. You’d been cheering from the sidelines, when your eyes caught his. His teammates had just won, and he walked straight up to you after the game, all sweaty and grinning. He had that air of confidence, but not in an arrogant way. When he asked for your number, you politely declined, thinking he was just another flirty jock. But Wes? He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t give up, and it didn’t take long for you to realize.

Wes was a gentleman from the very start. He never pressured you or made you feel uncomfortable. He was always so patient, so kind. Even after four months of being together, the two of you hadn’t kissed yet. And not once had he made you feel rushed. He was always respectful, always waiting for you to be ready.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him—you did. But the fear of it going wrong had held you back. What if he broke up with you because you were a terrible kisser? your mind it was better safe than sorry, right?

But that didn’t mean the moments with Wes weren’t already perfect. Like now, for instance, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. You were lazily playing with his wavy brunette hair. He was shirtless, having just come back from soccer practice, and the warmth of his toned chest was pressed against your body as he snuggled into you.

His eyes were closed, his head resting against your chest, his hand gently playing with the hem of your shirt, and then rubbing your stomach, it was domestic. Then, in that soft, sexy voice of his, he spoke up.

"Do you want to try kissing?" His tone was gentle, not insistent, just curious. He wasn’t pushing you, just asking if you were ready. "You can say no, baby. Don't look so terrified."