Page 78 of My First Kiss

Honey?Since when does she call me that? She’s laying it on thick. I wonder if she really is mad at me. I hope not. I’m doing my best to make it obvious to her and to Hillary that I only want her.

“Well,” Hillary says, her voice more muted than before. “Good for you two.”

“Thank you,” Harlow gushes.

“I’m a lucky guy.”

“Yes, well,” Hillary says, clearly uncomfortable now. “I should be going. It was nice seeing both of you.”

“Of course,” I say.

“Bye!” Harlow all but sings the word, giving a little finger-wave as she does.

As soon as Hillary is gone, Harlow drops the fake smile and my hand. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Hillary’s back.

“I really don’t like that woman,” she mutters.

“Me either,” I say. Leaning closer to her, I whisper, “Sorry about the PDA. I know I broke the rules.”

She turns to face me. “Are you kidding me? I was one second away from ripping her hand off your arm. If you hadn’t done something, I would have been livid.”

The vehemence in her voice catches me off-guard. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type,” I muse.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not jealous. It’s about manners. It’s rude to walk up to a man who’s clearly standing next to a woman and put your hands on him. And she didn’t even attempt to acknowledge me until you brought me into the conversation. Even though I know she knows who I am.”

I smile down at her and wink. “I think someone is just a little bit jealous.”

“Hm. Think what you want. It’s a free country.”

“Does this make you my girlfriend now?” I tease.

“Shut up,” she mutters, making me laugh.

After a second, she surprises me by leaning up on her toes to kiss my cheek before whispering, “Yeah.”

My smile stretches wide, and I look at her for several seconds before my mouth drops open in shock.

“PDA!” I whisper, scandalized.

She laughs. “Ass.”

“What about my ass?” I say, turning to look over my shoulder.

Harlow swats me with her hand. “Can we focus on the art, please?”

I do my best to behave after that, but the truth is that I’m ridiculously happy and having a hard time keeping the goofy grin off my face. I’m not happy that Harlow was jealous of Hillary. That would be stupid. Though I won’t lie and say it wasn’t a nice stroke to my ego to witness it. I’m happy because tonight was the first time either of us has put a label on what we are. I know we’ve been exclusive, but it’s the first time either of us has used the word ‘girlfriend’. At my age, I didn’t think something like that would affect me so much, but I can’t stop remembering the way she’d whispered that single word into my ear.

I’d love nothing more than to take her home immediately and drag her into my bed for the next few hours—or days. But Ella is with us and she’s so excited about the gallery that I decide to take my two favorite girls out for ice cream afterward. By the time we finish our dessert, it’s getting later, and Ella is visibly tired. She’s had a big day and I know it’s catching up to her. By the time we get home and she takes her bath, her eyelids are drooping.

“I’m proud of you, El,” I say, watching as Harlow braids her hair into two pigtails.

“Thank you,” she says through a massive yawn.

Harlow finishes Ella’s hair and leans forward to kiss the top of her head. “I’m proud of you too,” she whispers.

Something about the scene makes my heart melt just a little. It’s not the first time Harlow has braided Ella’s hair before bed. It’s not even the first time she’s casually shown her affection. It’s that, for the first time since Ella was born, I feel like my heart doesn’t belong solely to my daughter. Somehow, Harlow has come to occupy a large portion of it without me noticing when or how it happened. I know that should scare me, but somehow it grounds me instead. I feel like some part of my life was missing before but now it’s not. I realize how ridiculous that thought is as soon as I have it. Sure, I’ve known Harlow since we were ten, but we’ve only been together for a month. It’s crazy to think I might have fallen for her already. Isn’t it?

“Come on, El,” I say, reaching for her. “Time for bed.”

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