“Thanks,” I say, pulling em in for a quick kiss. E melts into it, like every kiss has loosened em up for me just a little bit more until now it just feels buttery and sweet between us.

“Close the door!” Brian calls.

Devin pulls back, a blush in eir cheeks. “Whoops.”

E steps inside and I close the door behind em, gesturing em over to join us in the kitchen. One good thing about dating Devin is I don’t have to worry about introducing em to Brian since they technically knew each other before I came into the picture. Things might be a little different when my parents come at the end of the summer, but for now, the awkwardness is totally avoidable, and I’m grateful.

Well, really, I guess there’s actually a pretty long list of reasons why it’s good that I’m dating Devin—e doesn’t pressure me into doing things I hate, e doesn’t guilt me for expressing my own opinions, we actually have things in common . . .

Really, the only good thing that came out of dating Drew was setting me up to be a better boyfriend to Devin, and maybe a little nicer to myself.

“What’re you guys making?” Devin asks.

“Curry. You want some?” Brian says.

Devin winces. “Spicy and I don’t really mix.”

I laugh. “What kind of Cuban are you?”

Devin grins. “The kind with really bad anxiety and a weak stomach.”

Which is fair, though Devin’s been handling eir anxiety pretty well lately. I don’t know if it’s getting a vacation and not having to worry about work anymore or the fact that it’s mostly just been the two of us hanging out being all adorable and private, or maybe a mix of both. Either way, e seems to be light on the panic attacks lately, and it’s kind of nice to think I may actually be helping em through it.

The doorbell rings again, which catches me completely off guard because I’m pretty sure there’s nobody else in Denver I actually care to talk to.

I turn to Brian and say, “Did you invite someone over?”

“Nope.”

So I head over to the door. I’m too short to actually see through the little peephole, so I’m hoping it’s just a package delivery and not some guy in a ski mask waiting to kidnap me.

I pull the door open and freeze.

But it’s not some guy in a ski mask standing there.

It’s Becca.

I scream, and she screams back, and we jump into each other’s arms just screaming in excitement.

“Yikes,” Brian says. “The downstairs neighbors are gonna run me out of town because of you two.”

Just for good measure, we scream a little more before slipping into the apartment.