Rishi felt clearheaded, bright, delighted, amazed. Dimple’s mouth was soft and small and full against his, her body was warm as it pressed into him, and the smell of her skin and hair flooded him like a thousand stadium lights. He was kissing her. He, Rishi Patel, was kissing her, Dimple Shah. And she’d initiated the kiss. How the heck had this happened? How the heck could one guy get so lucky?
