Riley should have hated the press of his lips to her cheek. She should have flinched, should have felt disgusted, should have shoved away and bolted the next second.
But she didn’t.
Why? She had no clue.
Except the fact that she liked it, that it made her smile, grin like an i***t for almost all night. What were the chances that this wasn’t some stupid ass dream? That her life had finally started to feel normal enough for her to take pleasure in such silly things? Could it be because of the accident? Because she broke several bones in her body—endured a mild concussion—now her emotions were less panicky than earlier? That now she had started to feel good, and warm, and everything nice.
It was a stupid conclusion to have, even she knew that, but it was she had. Because nothing else made
