Have you kissed many boys before?" he asked quietly.<br /> His question brought my mind back into focus. I raised an eyebrow. "Boys? That's an assumption."<br /> Noah laughed, the sound low and husky. "Girls, then?"<br />"No."<br />"Not many girls? Or not many boys?"<br />"Neither," I said. Let him make of that what he would.<br />"How many?"<br /> "Why—"<br /> "I am taking away that word. You are no longer allowed to use it. How many?"<br /> My cheeks flushed, but my voice was steady as I answered. "One."<br /> At this, Noah leaned in impossibly closer, the slender muscles in his forearm flexing as he bent his elbow to bring himself nearer to me, almost touching. I was heady with the proximity of him and grew legitimately concerned that my heart might explode. Maybe Noah wasn't asking. Maybe I didn't mind. I closed my eyes and felt Noah's five o' clock graze my jaw, and the faintest whisper of his lips at my ear.<br />"He was doing it wrong.