Instead of greeting me like a sane person, she immediately meshes her lips with mine. I sigh into her mouth, my arms tightening around her, and the hungry pressure from her tongue draws mine out from its hiding place. I know we just had lunch together today, but I didn’t realize how badly I’ve started to miss her when she’s not around. When we pull away—which is the last thing I want to do—my hair is tousled from the force of her hands, the residue from her lip balm is smeared over my mouth, and my cheeks feel flushed with a healthy glow. “What was that for?” I pant. “I missed you,” she says,
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