“I’m a mess, Solange,” he says. “Still chasing dreams I should have put to rest years ago. What person in their right mind wants to date a struggling actor who bartends on the side? Maybe I’ll find a boyfriend or girlfriend once I’m in a groove. But in the meantime, the occasional date or hookup is good enough.”

“You deserve more than good enough,” I say.

“Just like my future partner deserves me at my best,” he counters. “I’m not there yet.” Then he laughs.

“What?” I ask.

“Remember when we used to joke that if we hadn’t found ‘the one’ by the time I turned thirty, we’d just marry each other?”

I seem to remember a drunken conversation or two along those lines, sure. Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? If he is, things are about to get very awkward between us.

He shifts to lie on his back. “Even if I still wanted to do something like that—and I’m definitely not saying that I do—we wouldn’t be able to.”

“Why the hell not?” I ask, defensive for no good reason.

“Because you already found the one, mama.”

I swing my legs off the bed and sit up. Could Brandon be right? My brain cycles through my experiences with Dean these past few weeks. I want more of those days. More of his kisses. More of just being around him. Teasing him. Talking to him. Doing everything with him. It’s a simple calculation: I’d rather give Dean my love and embrace the probability that he’ll be one of the best things to ever happen to me than protect myself from the possibility that he’ll be my worst mistake. “Oh God, I think I’m in love with Dean.” I fan my face, then drop my head between my thighs. “And I think I’m going to hyperventilate.”

“Well, I’d bet my life savings that Dean feels the same way.”

“Two whole dollars?” I say, still hunched over. “Now that’s a high-stakes wager.”

He lobs a pillow at me, but I swat it away.

“Seriously, though,” Brandon says as he sits up. “He needs to know that he’s going to miss out on a good thing if he doesn’t get his act together.”

I jump to my feet. “You’re right!”

Brandon rises to his knees on the mattress. “You’re a fantastic woman, and any person would be lucky to have you!”

“Exactly!” I say, pacing between the beds.

“And remember, no matter what, Solange, you’ll always have me.”

“You’re the best hype man,” I say, throwing my arms around his shoulders. “But it’s going to take some effort to convince him.”

Brandon falls onto his back again, his eyes narrowing in mischief. “That can be arranged.”