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“No, boss,” Emma said, then froze.

Jo raised her eyebrows at her, smirking.

“I’m going to go die in a hole now,” Emma said, burying her hands in her face, and Jo broke into laughter.

“Come on,” Jo said. “It was cute!”

She tried to tug Emma’s hands away from her face. Emma only put up a little fight before relenting.

“It was notcute,” she said. “You’re not my boss anymore. You’re my—my—”

She panicked then, unsure what she was supposed to call this. Her family called Jo her girlfriend, sure, but they hadn’t said it to each other.

Jo smirked at her again, and Emma turned even redder. She put the daffodils in the vase on the counter.

“You can call me your girlfriend,” Jo said quietly. “If that’s something you want to do.”

“Yeah,” Emma said, maybe too quickly. She tried to tone down her eagerness. “Yeah, like, I think that’d be nice.”

Jo smiled at her, and Emma definitely wanted to call her her girlfriend.

For dinner, Jo had made her salmon with a lemon butter sauce and roasted butternut squash on the side. It was delicious, andEmma told her so at least three times as they ate. Their nerves had settled now, and conversation flowed easily.

Emma insisted on helping clean up afterward. She loaded the dishwasher while Jo washed the pans. It felt, somewhat embarrassingly, like work felt over the summer, just the two of them, getting things done, occasionally making each other laugh. Emma understood a bit more about why Avery bet on her love life. This felt like an inevitable conclusion to the year, even as it was also the start of something completely new.

They moved to the couch once the dishes were done. There were still almost two hours until midnight, but Jo turned on a New Year’s Eve show anyway. She sat right up against Emma on the couch, their whole sides together, and even this far into the night, it was surreal to touch Jo like this. Emma paid no attention to the TV. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from Jo’s face.

Jo smiled when she noticed Emma looking, gave her a half roll of her eyes. But then she didn’t look away, either. Emma leaned in.

They kissed slowly. Gently. Like they couldn’t believe they were allowed to. That was how Emma felt, anyway. This felt off-limits. It was like Avery teaching her to drive in an empty grocery store parking lot when she was fourteen. She hadn’t gone over fifteen miles per hour that first time, but it still felt like flying. That was what this felt like, exhilarating and terrifying and easy to crash.

Jo never made a move. She kissed Emma, so, so softly, but she never pushed for more. Emma was the first to open her mouth. Emma was the first to brush her fingers through Jo’s hair, to clutch at her hips and pull her closer. Jo always reciprocated, but she never made the first move.

“Is this okay?” They both asked it at the same time as Emma pulled away to nip at Jo’s jaw.

They froze in their synchronicity for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jo was leaning into Emma, not quite in her lap but almost, and Emma buried her face in Jo’s neck and laughed.

“It’s okay with me,” Jo said, stroking her fingers through Emma’s hair.

Emma grabbed Jo by the waist and tugged her closer, so Jo was actually in her lap, straddling her. “Still okay?”

Jo smiled. “More than okay.”

They made out like teenagers. Emma didn’t move things along now that she had Jo in her lap, and Jo herself still seemed content with whatever Emma wanted. What Emma wanted was exactly what she had: Jo on top of her and kissing her and kissing her and kissing her. Emma’s hand barely slipped under Jo’s shirt, her fingers resting against the skin of Jo’s back.

It really did feel like learning to drive. Felt like something that, objectively, Emma knew people did—every day people did this. But her heart was in her throat anyway. She knew it was just kissing but it felt like everything.

“Actually,” Emma said, pulling back a little. “Can we—can we take a break?”

“Of course,” Jo said.

She pulled back farther, trying to climb out of Emma’s lap. Emma’s hands tightened on her hips.

“No, don’t go,” Emma said. “I just—the kissing is a lot. My heart is—fast.”

Jo’s concern melted into a bright smile.

“Good fast?”