
"Fifteen seconds!"
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Caroline Brant's mind raced, every thought leaping around in her brain about one sole thing; or person. Sawyer Auger. The boy who just happened to be seated beside her, blonde hair tousled and arms propped behind his head.
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She'd loved him for years, but from a distance, been his friend, but never got too attached because she knew that he wasn't within her reach; he was way out of her league, and she knew that, but something inside her still yearned for him, even though she understood that he was something she'd never be able to obtain.
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So as she sat perched upon one of the many divans in Scarlet Thatcher's living room on New Year's Eve, with ten seconds till midnight, encircled at all angles by high schoolers, her mind could only think of one thing, the seventeen-year-old football player she'd never have.
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'He's right next to you...all you'd have to do is lean over...you stupid, stupid girl, he'd never kiss you back..."
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"Five seconds!"
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Caroline's heart pounded against her ribcage, every heartbeat a whisper, 'do it, do it, do it.'
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'Oh, what the hell...'
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The amount of courage it took to lean over, place a hand against the side of his tanned neck, and fit her lips to his was insane, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight at the sensation of his lips upon hers.
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'Oh, finally!'
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"Happy New Year!"
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If Sawyer had any reservations, he forgot them fast, snarling his fingers in Caroline's wavy chestnut hair and holding her against him, his lips moving against hers in a gentle, heated rhythm. His kiss was soft yet firm, his lips slightly chapped but infinitely warm; it was everything she'd always dreamed of having with him, and the fact that she was finally kissing him was just a validation of that dream.
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His hand slid down to rest on the bare of her back, his palm warm as it pressed against her skin, his fingers skimming against the strings of her dress as the kiss deepened. Her fingers played with the hem of his shirt as she took it all in. She wanted to remember this moment, the first of what she'd always hoped to be many, and the taste of peppermint, and chocolate and snowflakes on his lips.
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'Well, I guess he would kiss you back, you stupid girl.'
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He was the one to draw back slowly, a tiny smirk jerking at his ever-so-perfect lips and his breath hot on her cheek.
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"Damn, Brant," the nickname made her heart flutter. "Happy New Year."
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His features were teasing, his brown eyes sparkling with an affable mischievous affection as he raised a finger to brush her curtain bangs behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her flushed cheek.
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She grinned, finally fulfilled, "Happy New Year."
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'Maybe he isn't so out of your league after all you stupid, stupid girl.'
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