My best friend had terrible taste in men. I mean that literally. She was pretty in that soft, effortless way that made people want to protect her. Sweet face. Big eyes. The kind of girl who looked like a little frosted cupcake in human form.

Chapter 13

After that, things changed fast.

Not in some dramatic, earth-shaking way.

More like a series of tiny things that quietly started mattering.

He messaged me every morning.

I sent him one sticker, and he sent back ten.

Lucky got discharged from his “critical patient” phase and graduated to full-time menace.

My best friend was unbearably smug about all of it.

“I told you there was a vibe.”

I ignored her.

Mostly because she was right.

Over the next few weeks, I went to his apartment more often than I should have.

Officially, it was to help with Lucky.

Unofficially, it was because the apartment had one overexcited puppy, one very handsome man, and enough accidental eye contact to shorten a person’s life.

Lucky adored me.

That traitor also adored him.

If I showed up late, Lucky would run to the door and make those strange half-barks until one of us picked him up.

If we both sat on the couch, he would force himself into the exact middle.

If either of us got too close to the other, he would insert himself like a tiny black chaperone.

One night, after Lucky had finally fallen asleep belly-up between us, I looked over and found him watching me.

“What?”

He looked away immediately.

“Nothing.”

I waited.

Then he admitted, “I’m still thinking about the first time you touched my face.”

I almost laughed.

“That really stayed with you?”

His ears turned red.

“It was sudden.”

I leaned back into the couch and studied him.

Then I said, “You know, you were very brave that night.”

He turned sharply.

“You mean when I threw talismans into a bush and then screamed over a puppy?”

“Yes,” I said solemnly. “Exactly that.”

He stared at me, then laughed despite himself.

I liked his laugh.

That was becoming a problem.

He looked down at Lucky, then said very quietly, “I wasn’t brave. I just… didn’t want anything happening to you.”

Something in my chest pulled tight.

For once, I didn’t joke.

I just looked at him.

And maybe he saw something in my face, because he slowly reached over and took my hand.

Warm.

Careful.

Like he was afraid I might pull away.

I didn’t.

Lucky snored once between us and kicked his tiny leg against my thigh.

Neither of us moved.