Miranda shuffled over and lay half on Tori, one leg thrown over Tori’s and her hand cupping Tori’s breast as though they were made solely for her. Miranda blinked at her train of thought. What the hell was she thinking? Her hands weren’t made for anyone. What would be next? That she loved Tori and believed in soulmates? Her heart, which had just begun to slow, beat faster again as neither of these ideas inspired the jeering disgust that usually accompanied it. Tori’s breath slowed and deepened, and Miranda looked up from where her head rested on Tori’s shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and her
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