But then everything I had thought about Rocco erased itself from the Motherboard of my mind. He kissed me. On the mouth, a convincing, serious lip lock. We even exchanged saliva, our tongues touched.
His breath tasted like cigarettes. But I didn’t pull away. I lost my grip on my drink, and the plastic cup slipped from my hands, raspberry ice splashing on our bare legs.
When he pulled back, biting his bottom lip as if savoring the taste of me, he smiled and said, “I’m notdrunk or high or delirious. I had to do that, though. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time. I hope I didn’t fucking scare you.”
His tough exterior was coming undone, and I liked it.
I didn’t care if anyone was watching us at that moment. I wasn’t scared. I picked up my empty plastic cup from the sidewalk and leaned into Rocco for a hug. I didn’t want to tell him that I had the same feelings for him for a very long time too, but some secrets called for discretion.