But then there’s a mouth on my cheek, warm and a bit scratchy from a beard. I swing my head toward it, and Nick catches my mouth in a kiss before I can protest or ask him what the actual fuck he thinks he’s doing. Not that it matters because his lips are soft and, God, I want him to keep going. I don’t care that he’s a stranger and that I met him while I was crying over my ex because this kiss is everything. This is the kiss. This is the kiss that makes you realize you’ve been missing out your entire life on having the shit kissed out of you.
