Afterward they sat on the floor, knees touching, the air around them rearranged. “So,” he said, breathless in the way of a student who’d passed an exam, “do you want another lesson?”
“Someone who knows it’s more than the lips.” He stepped closer, hands idle as if testing the gravity between them. “It’s timing. It’s breathing the same breath for a second. It’s noticing the tiny decisions—tilt left, tilt right, pause—and the courage to keep going anyway.” tara tainton it starts with a kissing lesson new