in something. The way his hair looked when sleekly wet coming up from a dive into a swimming pool, or damp and tousled by a towel after a shower. The way he’d sat with a small child and played Snakes and Ladders when he could have been doing far more exciting teenage stuff like playing video games or raiding her parents’ well-stocked liquor cabinet. The dreams that had started a long, long time before any sexual content had crept in.
Dreams that had only gained momentum the night of the party.
The excitement of dressing up like an adult. Of finally being grown up enough to.
To have no hesitation at all in grabbing that opportunity when she’d been alone in the kitchen with Jet when they’d both gone to find a drink at the same time. When they’d been side by side in the narrow space between the open fridge door and the wall.
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