Just One Kiss by Amelia Whitmore

a first for me.
    “I don’t look at you like that, Brayden. I’m sorry, I know
that’s how it sounded, but I know you’re not superficial. I know that you have
substance and there’s way more to you than meets the eye,” I tell him
earnestly.
    He looks into my eyes carefully. “Do you really?”
    I nod, “Absolutely. There’s never been a doubt in my mind.” I
pause. “Okay, well sometimes I have my doubts, but that’s just me being me,” I
explain. “You know why I’m paranoid. But I’ve always known that you were a good
person.”
    We exchange a long look until we’re interrupted by Adrienne
speaking to me. “Oh, Anna. I didn’t even notice you guys were here. How are
you, dear?”
    I smile at her. “I’m pretty great right now, how are you?” I
ask politely.
    “Pretty great myself,” she laughs.
    I turn to Paul. “Good evening, Mr. Carter,” I say with a polite
but genuine smile.
    He chuckles. “Really, Anna, call me Paul.” I smile and nod.
    When Brayden’s thumb begins making circles on my palm, I
realize that I’m still holding his hand in mine. I smile at him and he returns
it with his signature grin that makes me weak in the knees. I wonder if he
knows just what that smile does to me. His smirk afterward tells me he does.
    Soon enough, dinner comes out, and shortly after they begin
the auction. Paul buys a beautiful painting, courtesy of Sarah Sampson, room
405, age six. It was an incredible idea. They had the sick children paint
canvases to sell and all the profits go to the children’s ward of the hospital.
Sarah has a definite future in art. Her painting of swirling colors, all mixing
to create an interesting shade of brown, with two small hand prints on it, got
the hospital nearly $3,000. It was well worth it.
    Then, before I know it, Brayden is literally forcing me onto
the dance floor. “Brayden, stop!” I complain, tugging lightly against his hold
on my wrist. “I can’t dance!”
    “Everybody can dance,” he assures me, stopping in the middle
of the dance floor.
    “No, not everybody. I really, really can’t.
    He laughs. “Come on, you have to dance just a little. What
did you do at all your school dances in the past?”
    I bite my lip and look around the room, avoiding the
question.
    “Anna,” he deadpans.
    I sigh. “I’ve never been to a school dance,” I murmur
quietly, hoping he didn’t hear.
    “You what?” he asks loudly. “How can you never have been to
a dance?” He sounds appalled.
    “It’s not a big deal,” I argue defensively.
    He sets his hands on my waist and pulls me closer until
there’s barely an inch between us. “Oh, it’s a big deal. You, Anna Holden, are
learning how to dance. Right here. Right now,” he insists.
    “Brayden,” I whine.
    “No arguments,” he demands. “Now, move just a little bit,
side to side,” he says, gently nudging my body from left to right.
    I feel like I’m the Tin Man or something. Apparently Brayden
agrees because he starts chuckling at me.
    “Loosen up a little bit. Move your hips as you make each
movement.”
    I sigh and place my hands on his shoulders before doing as
he says. The actions, surprisingly, feel more natural than I had suspected they
would. I find myself swaying easily with him.
    “See, it’s not so bad. Now start moving slowly in a circle. Follow
the direction of my hand on your back. Listen to the pressure,” he whispers in
my ear as he takes one of my hands from his shoulder and holds it out, then moves
his other arm to the middle of my back.
    Once we’ve been dancing for a few minutes, I start laughing
a little bit. He looks down at me curiously and I explain, “It feels so weird
to actually be dancing. Like a fairy tale,” I finish with a murmur. He grins at
me and suddenly pulls me even closer, so that our bodies are pressed together. I
tense up for a moment, but quickly realize that I actually don’t mind. I lean
my head down and rest it on his shoulder, feeling more