It all began with a basketball game.
I was hanging out at my friend Tara's apartment one Friday night in December of 2006.
Our friend Tom walked through the door, bringing with him two of his childhood friends who came down from Logan for the big Utah State vs. BYU game that weekend.
I'd heard of these guys before.
Adam, the interior designer, and Reece, womanizer with hairy "wings" on his back.
I was polite.
I was cordial.
I observed as the boys made their rounds, flirting it up with all the BYU girls.
This boy with the "wings" approached me in the kitchen with that devilish smile and said hello.
I remember thinking he wasn't too bad to look at.
And let's face it, I am a sucker for guys with a less-than-perfect reputation.
But my interest quickly slipped out the door when he hopped on the love sac with Tara.
I think they were talking music or something, but I figured he had a thing for tall, gorgeous blondes -- not short, sarcastic brunettes.
When he pulled me onto the love sac too, I had to laugh.
This guy was a womanizer, that was for sure.
And I sort of loved it.
Someone suggested we go to Denny's.
I'm pretty sure at this point, it was close to 2 a.m.
We piled into a booth -- Adam, Tara, Tom, Corey, Emily, me and this kid called Reece.
Somehow I ended up next to him.
He ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream -- me, a Diet Coke with lemon.
The flirting commenced.
No one was paying much attention to us when this kid suddenly put a big dab of whipped cream on his lip, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I dare you."
I don't back down from a dare.
Especially a dare from a hot boy with a mischievous streak.
So I did.
I smooched that whipped cream right off his lip.
I pulled away and he stared at me, clearly shocked.
Then we both started to laugh.
We quickly looked around to see if anyone else had seen this scandalous exchange, but everyone seemed too wrapped up in their conversations to notice anything.
And that was the beginning of Reece and Jessica.
More to come...
I made Reece swear never to tell our kids about the whipped cream incident
Come to think of it, I don't even think our parent's know about it.
I guess the secret's out.