Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

He looks at me funny for a second before that cocky smile comes
back. “Oh. Good.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Good.”
“I am sorrier than you can imagine,” he says.
“Yeah—” I take a deep breath. “I know.”
“Does that mean I’m—”
“Forgiven? No.” I smile when his face falls. “Not yet.”
His smile returns.
“But you will be.”
With one small step he closes the distance between us. My heart
starts racing as he lifts his hand to my cheek. His fingertips hover
over my temple. I can feel his heat even though he isn’t actually
touching me.
Then he leans forward—like in slow motion—until his face is
micrometers from mine.
The smile in his bright blue eyes vanishes. My eyes flutter
closed—the anticipation is killing me. I haven’t kissed anyone since
that jerk I used to date—what was his name?—and I feel like I’ve
never wanted to kiss anyone more than I want to kiss Griffin Blake
right now.
His lips brush mine. Barely. Just a tickle, really.
But it’s more than enough.
My entire body sparks like the fireworks from bonfire night.
It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s not kissing me anymore.
I reluctantly open my eyes to find him inches away. His smile is
back.
“Come on,” he says, taking me by the hand. “I promised Coach
I’d give you a good workout.” He tugs and I stumble after him.
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