Page 95 of We Can't Be Friends

“Your butt is too big.” She pokes at my side. “I can’t sit down.”

There isn’t enough room on the wooden bench for us to sit beside each other.

“You looking at my butt, Dais?”

“Once or twice,” she admits casually. “What do you expect me to do when you wear those suits?”

“You like my suits?”

“Suits. Sweatpants. This sweater. You could wear a burlap sack, and I’d like it on you.”

Circling her waist, I pull her on top of me—my mouth level with her ear. “What about without any of that on?”

Chloe takes in all the air in this tight space. “I’d probably like that best.”

Is it hot in here?

The camera starts beeping to alert us that the countdown is beginning.

Three, two, one, we pose for the first photo: heads next to each other with smiles.

“Silly face, Pretty Boy.”

The countdown starts again for the next photo. Chloe makes a fish face. I stick my tongue out.

“What now?” I ask. “Hurry, two seconds.”

“Kissmycheek,” she says in one breath as1flashes on the screen.

I turn quickly, almost missing the photo, kissing her cheek as she tilts one brow up.

Pulling my lips back against her skin, my mouth is on her ear. In a hot breath, I whisper, “I’m going to kiss you now, Dais”

“Callum—” she says in tune with the countdown.

Three. . .

My left hand snakes across her body, cupping her chin between my fingers. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Two. . .

I turn her head to face me. Her eyes are wide with anticipation. Chloe licks her lips. “Need you to.”

One. . .

I seal my lips to hers.

The smell of peaches invades my sense of smell. My sense of taste is overwhelmed with her.

The camera goes off, but neither of us pull back. Lips pressed against each other like kids learning to kiss for the first time. Then Chloe moves her mouth, kissing me back.

Her lips open, taking my bottom between hers.

I tip her head back, pushing my hand into her hair under her hat, giving me better access to her mouth, taking the kiss deeper. When my tongue tangles with hers, she whimpers and I wonder how long we can stay here.

Not long enough.

She pulls away when she hears the sound of the printer. “It worked this time,” she says between pants. Standing quickly, she fumbles forward out of the photo booth.

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