It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

smiling, though.
“The night of our first kiss… did you put the blankets in the washer on
purpose? Was that a trick to get me to sleep in your bed?”
She scrunches up her nose. “You read that far?”
“You were asleep for a long time.”
She contemplates my question, and then nods an admission. “I wanted you
to be my first kiss back then, and that wouldn’t have happened if you kept
sleeping on the floor.”
She’s probably right about that. And it worked.
It’s still working, because reading her description of our first kiss brought
back every feeling she pulled out of me that night. She could sleep the entire
way back home, and I’d still think this was the best date I’ve ever been on.