He pushes the pizza toward me and I reach for it, heart in my throat as I think about what would happen if I brushed my hand against his. But by the time the thought finishes crossing my mind, his hand is picking up his own slice and lifting it to his mouth. His mouth that I’m totally not watching like a creep now.

Oh my god, what is happening?

“So.” He chews, putting the slice back down and wiping his hands on his jeans. There’s a bubbling anxiety rising up my esophagus so I stuff pizza in my mouth to try and shove it down.

“I want to apologize for Sunday,” he finishes.

“What?” I nearly choke. “Why? I was the asshole.”

“I think we can agree that we were both assholes,” he says, and I want to argue but I don’t. He’s right. If I’m being honest, Adam hurt my feelings too. And that hurt was buried under his hurt and sometimes my life is just so unfair. But I can’t explain that to Adam so I don’t know how to apologize for hurting him.

“But I think it’s safe to say that I was the bigger jerk,” he continues. “I’m sorry for prying. Your business is your business and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“No.” I shake my head, wiping the grease from my mouth with the back of my hand. “No, I’m sorry for being so weird. You were just worried about me. I get it, I can be kind of … obtuse sometimes?”

“Obtuse?” The butterflies surge and I can’t even begin to guess what that’s about.

“You’re not the only one with a vocabulary,” I tease, and he laughs, just a little. It sets me on fire. But not in the lava anger way. This is a green fire lapping at my skin, keeping me warm and making me want to get up and jump around, like I’m stepping on hot coals.

“I’m very impressed.” He smiles and it’s like sinking into a hot bath. Comforting and all-encompassing. He fiddles with his watch and I’m hypnotized by his fingers pulling on the strap. They’re skinny and trembling slightly, like they were in my bedroom when we were picking out an outfit for the dance. I flash back to the moment on my floor, with my arms on either side of his body, and instantly feel like I’m going to throw up. But in a good way. Is that even a thing?

I really like Adam. As in, like him like him. A lot. I like the way he barely ever fully smiles and I like how excited he gets about Shakespeare and I like the way his feelings feel.