Lacey grabs a fistful of my shirt and clutches the cotton like it’s her lifeline. Maybe it’s to keep me from falling headfirst to the turf. Maybe it’s to pull me closer. Maybe it’s to steady herself, because if she’s feeling anything like I am, it’s dangerously close to levitating high above the crowd. I bring my mouth to hers, slow enough so she can stop me if she wants, and her breathing hitches. When she doesn’t pull away, I smile big and wide. She gives me a shy grin in return and I press my lips against hers, kissing my best friend in front of seventy thousand people without a damn in the
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