I turned to say good night to her, and that was when I found her lips. Her lips. Pressed against… Mine. Her hands rested against my cheeks as she pulled me in toward her. She tasted like salty tears and peach Chapstick, and oddly enough, that was my new favorite taste. At first I didn’t kiss her back. At first I stayed frozen, thinking if I moved, the moment would disappear and I’d never be able to return to it. “Landon,” she whispered, her eyes closed as her forehead rested against mine. I loved that. I loved when she said my name. Not Satan. Not asshole. But Landon. I loved when those two
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