The problem wasn't that I didn't like kissing Peter. In fact, the problem was that I liked it a little too much. The problem was, that while making out in his Jeep after dates and holding hands in the hall was nice, that's all it was. Nice. And I had begun to yearn for something a little more exciting than niceness. Who would've thunk? Sweet, nice, Lara Jean looking to kick things up a notch?

Honestly, Chris knew. She was always poking fun at me for reading so many romance novels, or as she liked to call them - bodice rippers. There was some truth in her mocking. Reading all that steamy material definitely took my mind to certain places that it probably wouldn't have gone without the triggers of the descriptive, raunchy, sex scenes interlaced within my bookshelf.

I hadn't imagined that it would ever be a problem. The way they were described in my books, men were always a mere lust filled glance away from releasing their animalistic desires. I guess both literally and metaphorically, Peter and I just weren't on the same page. Other than the Hot Tub Incident, he had been a perfect gentleman. A real Mensch. And that precisely was my problem.

You'd assume, male teenager, he must be absolutely bursting with hormones. It was beginning to look like I'd managed to find the only one out there with utmost self-control, or maybe simply a complete lack of a sex drive. Either way, this was starting to cross the border from confusing to frustrating. And no, my lack of exploits was not due to my own inaction. I had tried just about everything, from wearing my tightest shirts to my shortest skirts, to the extent that one morning I had to sneak past Daddy just to make sure he wouldn't catch me leaving the house with so much leg out in the open. I had tried bending over to pick up a pen, that I had purposely dropped a moment earlier of course. I had tried leading questions, such as "what are things you'd like to try?" and "what are your favorite activities that we do together?". To both he answered something about antique shopping or hiking. I admit I didn't really listen to the entire thing. Chris was no help at all. Her suggestions involved either ambushing him in my underwear, or basically attacking him while studying on his bed. She didn't understand that I lacked a certain component of courage that was necessary for such displays.

After rereading one of my favorite scenes one night, I decided that I had to do something about the situation. Going to sleep every night frustrated both emotionally and sexually simply wouldn't do. I shot Peter a preemptive text - 'Got any tests tomorrow morning?', and after receiving confirmation that indeed his morning was clear, I began scheming.

The next morning I made sure Kitty didn't need a ride, relieved that she was happy to take the bus just this once, or in her words - "Start the morning surrounded by all my besties and the hottest gossip". That girl sure was popular.

Next, I wore the perfume that came in the purple box - the one that Peter had shown appreciation for the other week. I had made sure to wear my favorite vintage boots and skirt, the ones that made me feel unstoppable. Pulling my hair into my favorite scrunchie, I started the self pep talk.

'You can do this.' I told myself, letting out a breath. Nothing scary about fooling around with your boyfriend for the first time. Plenty of teens do it, I reminded myself. I tried not to let my mind wander to all the different versions of rejection I might meet. I couldn't let myself get psyched out at the last moment.

I heard a honk from downstairs, and felt my heart beat faster realising this was it. Showtime. I grabbed my backpack on my way down, yelling to Dad that I'd be home at the regular time as I closed the front door behind me. My eyes widened as I spotted Peter checking his reflection in the rearview mirror, unaware I was already outside.

I entered the car, gave him the usual peck on the cheek before he pulled out of the driveway.

"No Kitty today?" He sounded surprised.

"Nope. She wanted to take the bus today." I explained breathlessly. "Something about boy drama that only she can mediate." He nodded in understanding, aware of Kitty's social status at school.

We drove another minute in silence, my nerves a wreck, before I remembered The Plan.

"Hey, can you turn off this next exit?" I requested.

"Uh, sure. There some food place you planning on hitting on the way today?" He asked nonchalantly.

"You'll see." I replied noncommittally.

"Okay Miss Mystery." He smiled at me quizzically, looking at the sides of the road to see where I could be taking him.

"Turn left here." I supplied.

He made the turn, pulling over in the clearing we had reached. He turned to me confused, and a little suspicious. "Are you sure this is where you meant to go? We're in the middle of, literally, nowhere."

"That's the point." I answered. "I thought it would be nice to… Spend some time together."

"As in… Go on a hike? Because I don't have any gear or anything here." He was starting to look confused.

"Nope, just… Enjoy each other's company. Maybe like this." I demonstrated, leaning over to kiss him. After a moment he pulled back grinning.

"Alright Covey, I gotcha. Ditching first period for some quality time with my girl is definitely something I'm down with." He had no idea what he was truly getting himself into.

As we kissed, I put my hand over his, where it rested on my neck. I pulled his hand slowly further down, praying that I wouldn't chicken out before we got anywhere. We got as far as his hand resting at the top of my bra line, before he abruptly pulled away.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Covey, you sure? We usually don't…" He gestured to the vague direction of my chest, making sure not to accidentally touch anywhere I was purposely leading him towards.

"Well that's just the problem!" I exploded.

"Um, what?" His brow furrowed at his confusion. "The problem is that we don't…?" He gestured again, repeating the gist of his movements earlier.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, huffing. I could feel my face burn, my cheeks probably resembling a pair of tomatoes. This was exactly the conversation I was intent on avoiding.

"And it's a problem because…?" He trailed off at the end, waiting for me to supply him with the explanation.

"Because I'm sick of doing nothing! All we do is kiss, and then say goodnight, and then you drive off like that was enough." I couldn't meet his stare. I could practically hear the gears in his head grinding at full speed.

"And that's not enough." He phrased it somewhere between a question and a statement. I could feel him staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate.

"No," I said softly, "It's not."

"Well then, spill, Covey. What else would you like?" His gaze was softer now, his voice lowered. A beat of silence passed before I could gather the courage to speak.

"Well… More, touching? I guess? I don't know Peter you're the one who's done this all before." I let out a huff of annoyance and embarrassment.

"Hey, look at me." He waited until our eyes locked before continuing. "Where should I be touching?" After another moment of silence he softly touched my shoulder. "Here?".

I nodded, blurting out, "Lower, too."

Maintaining eye contact, he lowered his hand to my collarbone.

"Here?"

He didn't stop there, letting his palm drift to my chest, moving his other hand to my waist.

"Here?" I nodded. He continued drifting lower, until his right hand was cupping my breast, his left holding my waist more firmly than before.

"Here?" He repeated quietly. My breath hitched as I nodded again.

"You're something else Covey" he whispered, leaning in to kiss me.

This was definitely an outcome I had been hoping for. I sighed into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his hands gently massaging my chest and gripping my waist while he kissed me.

This time when we pulled back he seemed unfocused. "Wow." He breathed out.

"That was definitely something else."