When we were seventeen
The first time Noah Bennett kissed Ava Laurent, it tasted like strawberry lip gloss and bad decisions.
Seventeen-year-old Ava stood underneath the flickering lights outside the school gym, her heart racing harder than the music still blasting inside. The winter formal had ended almost an hour ago, but neither of them seemed ready to go home.
“You’re staring again,” Noah teased, hands shoved into the pockets of his black suit pants.
Ava rolled her eyes. “Maybe because you clean up surprisingly well.”
“Surprisingly?”
She laughed softly, and Noah swore right then that he would spend the rest of his life trying to hear that sound again.
The cold Paris-like breeze—well, as close as their tiny hometown could get to Paris. Noah moved strands of Ava’s dark hair across her face. He reached out instinctively, tucking it behind her ear before he could stop himself.
And suddenly, everything became quiet.
The parking lot.
The music.
The people leaving around them.
All of it disappeared the second Ava looked at him like he mattered.
Noah wasn’t used to that feeling.
At school, he was known as the funny guy. The basketball player. The one who never took anything seriously. But Ava saw through every version of him he tried to perform for everyone else.
She saw the overthinking.
The jealousy.
The fear of never being enough.
And somehow… she stayed.
“You know,” Ava whispered, stepping closer, “you get really nervous when you like someone.”
“I do not.”
“You’re rubbing your thumb against your hand.”
Noah immediately stopped moving his hand, making her grin wider.
“Okay,” he admitted quietly. “Maybe I do.”
Ava’s smile softened then, turning dangerous in the way only beautiful girls could.
The kind that made boys fall too hard without realizing it.
“You don’t have to be nervous with me, Noah.”
That should’ve comforted him.
Instead, it terrified him.
Because people always left eventually.
And deep down, Noah already wondered what would happen when Ava realized she deserved someone better.
Someone richer.
Smarter.
More certain about their future.
Not a guy pretending he had everything figured out.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Ava said.
“How do you always know?”
“Because,” she replied softly, “I pay attention to you.”
Noah looked at her for a long moment before finally speaking.
“That might be the problem.”
Ava frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He almost told her the truth.
That being loved by someone like Ava felt dangerous.
That every good thing in his life eventually disappeared.
That he already felt himself becoming dependent on her smile, her voice, her presence.
But instead, he stepped closer until there was barely space between them.
“You ask too many questions,” he murmured.
Ava raised an eyebrow. “And you avoid them.”
“Maybe.”
Then he kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he was trying not to ruin something fragile.
And for a moment, Ava kissed him back like she believed he never would.
