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“You’re serious?” he asks. This time his lips pull up in a small smile. “Happy Gilmore is your favorite movie?”

I shrug, handing him the board. “Adam Sandler is a comedic genius, what can I tell you?”

He takes it with narrowed eyes and places it on the couch between us.

“I suppose I can give it a shot. I’ve only watched it once, in college,” he says, popping a piece of smoked gouda in his mouth.

I grin and hit the play button. A giddy feeling swells in my chest every time Levi scoffs or laughs at the movie. And if he gets annoyed by the way I whisper the iconic lines throughout the movie, he doesn’t show it.

I finish the seltzer and he gets me another, opening it up for me. By the end of the movie, my thoughts are fuzzy and my body is warm, even without the blanket Levi draped over my lap. His arm is extended on the back of the couch behind me and my muddled brain decides it’s a good idea to lean into him.

Slowly, I let my head drop to his shoulder. He stiffens under my touch for just a moment, but then, gloriously, miraculously, he relaxes, bringing his hand to my bicep. I curse at the fact that I wore his sweatshirt instead of a T-shirt. I could be feeling his fingers on my skin right now.

We sit there through the end credits, Levi taking controlled breaths, and me trying to pretend I’m asleep. Would he carry me to my room again?

“Hazel?” he asks softly.

I turn my head and blink up at him. My vision is a little blurry and I belatedly realize that maybe two seltzers were a little much. “Hm?” I ask.

“We should go to sleep,” he says, gaze dipping to my lips.

I swallow hard. We should. Together, preferably.

With a sigh, I sit up and away from his warm embrace. “Sorry, the seltzers hit me harder than I expected.”

“You mentioned you had a bad day?” he asks, standing and picking up the seltzer cans and the board.

“Ah, yes. I love getting threatened by my supervisor. What a joy.” I snort. My eyes widen when I realize what came out of my mouth.

“Wait, threatened? What did he say?” Levi’s voice is nothing but a low growl.

“It’s nothing,” I backtrack, scratching the side of my head. “I’m tipsy. Forget I said anything.”

Levi’s jaw ticks and I get the sense he doesn’t want to drop this, but the more he assesses me, the more his expression softens. “Okay. Thank you for the company,” he says, looking back at the TV.

“Admit it. Best movie ever,” I whisper, leaning in.

He shakes his head and purses his lips, stopping the smile that so clearly wants to overtake his lips. “It was an okay movie.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” I sing-song, making my way up the stairs.

“Good night, Hazel,” he says once we’re in the hallway, my hand poised atop the handle of my bedroom door.

“Good night, Levi,” I say, biting my lip.

A few days later, I start to wonder if Levi is avoiding me. I see him less, although he did have dinner with me yesterday and even complimented the pasta I made.

And yet, something feels off between us. Not that there is or should be an us, but why do I feel disappointed that we haven’t had a repeat of the day in the basement? Or that he doesn’t sit close to me when we’re on the couch, watching more movies and eating his charcuterie plate.

This is a good thing. It’s what you wanted.

I can’t let this crush affect my job, and besides, his focus should be on the upcoming tournament, not on me.

I frown down at my bagel and vegan cream cheese, contemplating my conundrum with each bite. Gus jumps up on the countertop, and I give him a scolding look. He meows and sniffs at my bagel, but I pull it away. Can cats have bread?

“Want a snack, buddy?” I stand, reaching up for the cat treat cupboard and shaking the container.

The black cat starts purring and pacing along the countertop. “I don’t think you should be up there,” I whisper to him.