Page 148 of Your Last First Kiss

“What? Is someone moving into Dad’s old house? It’s kind of a dump,” Kai says.

“And it always smelled weird,” Landon pipes in quietly. He’s always been an observer, and my mama heart expands seeing him come out of his shell. That’s all because of Dillon.

I have so much to be thankful for.

Dillon looks at Kai in the rearview mirror. “We cleaned it up and made some upgrades too.”

“So, who’s moving in?” I ask.

That smile full of trouble is back. “Paisley,” he says. “Paisley is moving in tomorrow.”

Kai and I both burst into laughter. Everyone in town knows how Miller feels about her—everyone except Paisley.

“Well, this should be interesting.” Kai laughs.

“Chance Lake, the official home of the second chance.” I laugh, but no one joins in. Party poopers.

“Mom joke,” Kai says while trying to hold in a smile.

Dillon reaches across the console and holds my hand. “I’m pretty fond of a second chance myself.”

Me too, Dillon. Me too.

EPILOGUE

DILLON

ONE YEAR LATER

If someone told me a year ago that I’d be walking into a pharmacy one town over to help a sixteen-year-old buy condoms, I would have laughed in their face.

But here we are.

I’m not sure who is more horrified, Kai or me, but we’ve made it this far, so we’re doing it.

“Why are there so many options?” he whispers. “Seriously, is this necessary?”

A month ago, I would have said no. But when he asked if I’d help him find a tux for junior prom, I decided this would be part of the deal.

I remember what I was like at sixteen. The memories make me shudder.

“If you’re not mature enough to buy condoms, you’re not mature enough to have sex,” I say.

“I’m not having sex,” he mutters.

“Yet. But you will, so I’m making sure you’re prepared.”

Kai’s head is on a swivel as he scopes out the aisle around us like we’re doing something wrong.

“So how do I know what ones to get?” He sounds as panicky as I feel.

“They come in sizes. I have no idea how big your junk is.” Kai’s face pales, and I amend that sentence quickly. “And I don’t need to know. You must have an idea if you’re small, average, or large, and I understand the temptation to say you’re large, but trust me on this, you want the right size.”

He swallows hard, glances around the aisle, then reaches forward and grabs a box of regular Trojans.

“Good choice,” I say, then immediately wipe the sweat from my forehead. I’m also positive that my cheeks are as red as his.

“Kai?” a girl’s voice asks from behind me.