Which almost annihilated me.
 
 And shockingly, it was a euphoric annihilation. Not a resentful, angry, pissed off one. I almost heat up remembering it all. And yeah, I wished I could’ve been the one between her legs, but I liked being against her lips. Kissing her.
 
 Touching her.
 
 It didn’t feel like I was losing anything. Just a part of something more. Something she enjoyed, he enjoyed—I enjoyed.
 
 Plus, I hate that Banks is so hung-up on his shitty firsts. He deserves to be happy—and shit, it makes me happy seeing him have a good time and even having a good time with him. Last night was fun.
 
 I’m feeling the moment out.
 
 New experiences don’t send me hitch-hiking backwards. I’m not as free as the wind as Banks, but I try to kick myself out of my comfort zone. If I stayed in there, I’d never do half the things I’ve done.
 
 Give and take punches and kicks for Muay Thai. Bungee jumping with my dad at fourteen. Open a gym at eighteen. Snowboard black diamonds. Swim with sharks with the Meadows family.
 
 Chase after Sulli.
 
 Some piece of me wishes I could be a cocky asshole and say,she loves me more than him. I have this in the bag.
 
 But I don’t think I do. In order for me not to go out of my mind, I try to stop looking at this like a competition.
 
 I just want to have this time with her.
 
 At the small-town mountain store, Sulli breathes easier with my reassurance. She rifles through a bowl of Montana stickers. She’s one hundred percent looking for a gift for Winona.
 
 I spin a rack of postcards next to Sulli, then take one out and flick it on her nose.
 
 She tries hard not to match my smile. “You don’t want to start a nose-flicking competition with me. I’ll beat your ass, and then you’ll pout.”
 
 “But I thought you loved winning against me?” I flick her nose again.
 
 She steals the postcard. “Yeah, because you’re the biggest sore loser I know. Victory is that much sweeter when you whine—”
 
 “I don’twhine,” I scoff with a smile.
 
 “You whine.” She grins.
 
 I glance at her lips more than once.
 
 She bites the bottom one. “Fuck.” She turns her head away from me.
 
 My pulse skips. “What’s wrong, Sul?” I tilt my head.
 
 Sulli peeks up at me through her long brown hair. “Sometimes I think I was dreaming it—you and me together—and then you look at me like that, and I remember it’s real.” She inhales a bigger breath. “It’s pretty fucking overwhelming, but you probably know what this feels like already.”
 
 I’m confused. “What do you mean?”
 
 “A friend-turned-lover.” She cringes at her sudden use oflover.
 
 I smile, “You don’t want to be my lover?”
 
 “Kits,” she groans. “You know what I mean.”
 
 “Okay, lover.”
 
 “Fuck off.” She snaps the postcard to my nose.
 
 We both laugh.