Page 22 of First Last Kiss

“You could have told me what to wear,” I teased as he helped me into the backseat.

“And not see you all dolled up? Fuck that.”

Gret kissed me again and fireworks erupted in my stomach.

“Isn’t this a little cliché?”

“What’s that?”

“Our first kiss on New Year’s Eve?”

“Totally cheesy and cliché but it’s our story and I like it.”

“Yeah, I kinda like it too.”

* * *

Partyingwith the team on New Year’s after a win was dreamlike. Champagne bottles were popped. Toasts were made. Drunken debauchery ensued. It was fantastic.

“One more toast for the evening,” Gavin Hayes yelled over the crowd while climbing onto a chair. “To Gret Hayes for saving the day and getting the game-winning goal!”

“To Gret!” everyone hollered.

The ball continued to drop and we were only seconds away from midnight.

Taking me into his arms, Gret looked down at me. “There is no one else that I would rather ring in this new year with.”

“How are you this perfect?” I asked, wrapped my arms around Gret’s neck.

He shrugged. “Blame my mom.”

“Oh, I will.”

We started the countdown with everyone in unison.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Happy New Year!”

I grabbed both sides of Gret’s face while whispering. “Happy New Year, handsome.”

And with that, I let my lips fall to his—it was a kiss that could stop time itself. In the middle of everyone singing Auld Lang Syne we were lost in each other.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.”