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“Packing!” Sariah exclaimed. “How can you be packing? You should’ve called me last night when the date ended!”

“That’d be hard, considering the date ended…” I paused as I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “… about an hour ago.”

“Rhodes Kennedy! Did you have a gentleman caller all night? How salacious!” She gasped like it was the most scandalous thing she’d heard me do. I rolled my eyes. “So it was a really good date then if Theo slept over.”

Slept was a generous way of putting it. After the kitchen, we’d made our way upstairs for a hot shower before he stole my clothes. Him walking around naked would’ve hindered the rest of the date, not that we wouldn’t have enjoyed it. We argued about what to watch, raided the fridge and cabinets for snacks, and camped out in the living room.

The hours blurred together with ease. We’d curled up on the couch and watched movies until the sun came up. Comedies turned into reruns of decades-old game shows, which somehow turned into a space documentary I’d seen enough times to quote nearly every line. I caught myself doing so more than once. Instead of teasing me for being a nerd, Theo was quick to ask questions here and there, like hearing me ramble was somehow the most fascinating part of the documentary.

At some point, I’d fallen asleep with my head resting on his chest, waking up every so often to find his fingers lazily combing through my hair or tracing absentminded circles against my back. Neither of us had been in any hurry for the night to end. But it had to. We had a flight to California to get on. While he had more free time than I did, I was cutting it close by calling her back.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “It was a great date. I bought him a motorcycle."

“Rhodes fucking Kennedy!” The frustration in her voice made me laugh. “You can’t buy yourself a boyfriend!”

“Actually, I could if I was that kind of person,” I retorted. “There’s a whole market for that.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You’re far too picky just to hire someone.”

“True,” I replied. “Besides, it wasn’t like I was trying to buy him off. It’s an investment in future dates.”

“Future dates!” She squealed—genuinely squealed—on the other end. “He said future dates!”

The explosion of background commentary made me groan. I should’ve prepared for that. It was Saturday after all. The brunch group had probably commandeered someone’s kitchen, and judging by the chorus of indistinguishable voices, every last one of them had just witnessed my accidental confession.

Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered me, but I didn’t like the attention. I’d said two words—future dates—and suddenly, I was the entire focus of their attention. Which, honestly, I wasn’t a fan of. I didn’t like being the brunt of their jokes.

“Sariah.”

“Oh, hush, we’re just excited,” she replied, which only irritated me more.

“I’m serious,” I said. The laughter behind her softened, and I heard her shuffle away from the rest of them until it was silent.

“They’re not making fun of you, Rhodes,” Sariah told me quietly, accurately reading my mind. “No one’s laughing at you. We’re… we’re happy for you.”

“I know. I just…” I sighed. I struggled to articulate how I felt in a way that didn’t make me sound like an asshole because I wasn’t trying to be. And it wasn’t that I wasn’t happy—I was. More than I thought I could be.

But navigating a new relationship while unlearning all my bad relationship habits was more of a challenge than I wanted to admit. I adored Theo. Immensely. That wasn’t the problem. I just refused to fall into old habits, which meant work.

And being the center of everyone’s excitement made me feel like I had to work even harder to live up to their expectations for this new chapter of my life. It also gave me more people to fail than just Theo.

“I know,” she said. If anyone would get it, it was her. We were just that much alike. She’d just figured it out sooner. “It’ll stay between us until you’re ready, but just know, everyone’s rooting for you. Me included.”

“Thanks.”

“Besides, this is the most exciting thing to happen to our friend group in a while.”

“Even more so than your wedding?” I found that hard to believe, though it made for a great distraction from my own relationship.

“Oh, definitely,” Sariah answered all too quickly. “We’re all over wedding planning.”

“It’s your wedding,” I pointed out. “You can’t be over it.”

“I’m over the spectacle of it,” she replied. “I’m so goddamn ready to be married, but I’m also ready to be done with the wedding.”

“I think you’ll enjoy the actual day,” I told her.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I hate the planning part.”