I sneezed. I sneezed right on poor Ian's pretty face.
"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered and smiled sheepishly when Ian slowly wiped his face with a handkerchief.
"It's okay." He chuckled, leaned backwards on the wooden bench and I could sense some disappointment.
But I was glad that I sneezed harshly and broke the almost kiss attempt by Ian. I didn't know what I would have done if I hadn't sneezed, but kissing Ian felt wrong in some way. Ian was extremely attractive and sweet, however, it just didn't feel right. It felt like I was being a disloyal hoe to a particular cold, impeccable, aloof, handsome, delicious, fine male specimen and that I would run out of adjectives describing him.