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But that idiot had the nerve to become a human popsicle, so yelling at him was unsatisfying, and one of the important guys got pissy with me, a Mr. Diamond or something. I’m not on his favorite person list for sure.

Maverick’s finally peaceful and not tossing and turning. I brush his hair off his forehead.

Stay strong.

My favorite lavender silk sheets are twisted around his torso. I have them in three colors because they feel amazing, help regulate my body temperature, and keep my curls from sticking straight up.

He’s not mine and never really was. Once he gets over the shock that we live in the same city, he’ll agree we’re a disaster waiting to happen, best to be avoided. He smells sick, not his usual clean scent of sunshine in a forest after the rain. Thank heavens, because I can resist a hot mess.

“Sky?” he calls, and blindly reaches for me.

“I’m here, go back to sleep.” I drag my fingertips along the palm of his hand.

“Thought you were a dream. Tell me something only you would know.” He opens his eyes.

The first thing that pops into my head comes out with no filter or thought of consequences. “Our first kiss was at my house, and we were so nervous and turned on we attacked each other’s mouths. You almost cracked a tooth but said it’d be worth it to kiss me again.” The urge to punch myself in the face is real.

But he’s satisfied and closes his lids. “Still true.” He sighs, and sleep takes him under.

Turns out, I didn’t need to hit myself. The memory playing on a loop in my head is enough to crack my chest open as my heart bleeds out. We were in my musty basement wrestling for the remote control on the plaid couch. He’d gotten hard, and my blood did a mass exodus from the rest of my body to my dick. It’s the only explanation I have for asking if I could kiss him.

Mav turned bright red, and I was sure I’d ruined everything. If I could’ve stuffed the words back in, I’d have shoved those words down so they’d never be heard. I’d had a crush on him for ages, but he was straight. I opened my mouth to say “just kidding,” but he grabbed my nape and changed my life by kissing me and saying he’d wanted me since we met.

My head was swimming, and he tasted of warm bread and sweet cream with a hint of spice. Freshly baked bread reminds me of him to this day. We kissed and kissed and kissed until we heard my sister at the top of the stairs. She took one look at us and clocked our messy hair and kiss-swollen lips. In my family, there was an unspoken agreement that we didn’t talk about my sexuality. She sneered, turned around, and we never mentioned it.

With the memory of our first kiss, I accidentally tapped into my sentimental emotions for him.

That day I swore I fell irrevocably in love and found my person. The idea that he returned a fraction of my obsession was mind-blowing. Mav was the popular guy who would take the time in gym class to show the less athletic people how to improve. He didn’t tolerate someone being bullied, especially me. And he was so smart; he’d help me with my homework over the phone, late into the night, so I could pass. On top of being an absolute catch, he chose me. Me.

I guess everyone thinks their first love will last forever. Not everyone easily dismisses red flags the way I did. In my mind, he had no flaws, and all our problems were mine.

Mav rolls over and snuggles into me. I should’ve kept my distance, at the very least slept in the spare room. But I’ve never made smart choices when it comes to Maverick.

Back in high school, I gladly snuck out of my house and met him in the cornfield so we could stargaze and make each other come. He’d bring a blanket and pillows. We made a dent in the crop, the width and length of two bodies. We learned the constellations and shared dreams. It never occurred to us that we’d lead separate lives.

With his magnetic personality, I never stood a chance. He was my world, and I danced around him, not caring if I broke a leg.

Until I did. Until I felt hopeless. That nothing would change.

I trace his dark brows; they’ve always been two shades darker than his hair. We had so many firsts together; I don’t regret him. We didn’t work, but I loved him as much as my teenage self was capable of.

Easing away from Mav, I flee from my bedroom, disgusted with that silly teenage boy who thought he had life figured out. Pathetic.

My work phone beeps with notifications, and I snatch it up, sitting down at my computer. Picking up Mav last night meant I had to reschedule some clients. I review them in order, so it’s first come, first served on new times. After a few minutes of scheduling, I decide to film my content while Mav sleeps so I can be there when he wakes up.

I shake my head. We’re not together, yet I’m still rearranging my life around him. Some habits are impossible to break.

Mav will be starving when he wakes up.

Me: I’m taking care of a sick friend. Do you have any get-better food?

Nonna Maria: Of course!

Me: I’m going to be filming. Can you leave it in my fridge?

Nonna Maria: Do pigs fly?

No, they don’t, so logically that’s her response, but she answers stupid questions with ridiculous answers.