You make my hormones rush, baby, and I can make you laugh with recycled clever-sounding comments while you uphold decent conversation on your end.
You dress in a way that makes me notice the curves of your upper thigh and angles of your wrists.  We have so many platonic(?) tickle wars and pillows fights.  My arm goes around your neck when watching a movie at a friend’s, but I let it hover over the cushion of the couch.  Let’s not be hasty here.
Come on, baby, let’s kiss during a casual conversation outside the high school one day, and from there feel obligated to date for a one-to-three month period.
I want to hold your hand in the hallway, but not in front of girls I find particularly attractive.
I want to publicly display our lust affection in moderately meaningful situations.  Like lunch.
I want to say “I love you,” because I feel like it’s the right thing to do.
Come on, baby, let’s go see three action movies and a romantic comedy in the span of our relationship.  Let’ s have a single dinner out to Olive Garden, and not get dessert.  Let’s bake cookies at your house afterwards, and have your mom and dad step in every few minutes to check on us.
I want your dad to make smalltalk with me, baby.  I want to give concise answers, and keep the conversation to a minimum.  I want to have a weird ****** tension with your mom, and act cooler than I am to your little brother.
Let’s just kiss for far longer than necessary, until our lips become chapped our cheeks sopping wet.  I want to undo your bra with both hands (and a little aid), and feel your snowy *******.  I want to **** on your ******* for the first time, and be inexplicably disappointed from the experience.
Baby, let me put my fingers in you and focus on the wrong places.  I want to use our mouths, and have you give up halfway through and make me finish on my belly.  Baby, let’s be make a mess due to our discomfort with our own ****** interaction.
Sleep with me, baby.  Let’s do it.  I want to give you the best six minutes of your life, finish early, and be apologetic, yet still confused over how good I was.  I want you to smile politely and kiss my cheek afterwards.
Let’s break up, baby.  This isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Let’s make a mess of our clique and make them pick sides.  Let us oversympathize with our standpoint, baby.  I want to hate you for no reason.  And I want to cry over what seems like everything.
Baby, I want to reconcile and have an uncomfortable friendship.  I want us to date other people, and feel weird about it.  I want one of us to be single down the line, and in the middle of a casual conversation, kiss you, and then I want to do it with you again.
I want to be somewhat improved from last time, but not great by any means.
I want to make our friendship more rocky than ever before, baby, and be far more interested in doing it again than you.
I want to make a friendship impossible.
Let’s do it, baby.
Hey, are you ticklish?