“These thousands of stars glittering in the heavens.” She swung a hand toward the sky. “These cozy blankets you brought. This delicious hot chocolate I brought.” She lifted her travel mug. “Your face. I’m not finding any of that in the least bit romantic, which is a real relief, seeing as how we’re merely friends.”

“A great relief,” he said wryly.

“Whew.”

They saw each other a few times a week at Furry Tails, and they’d started hanging out once or twice a week in addition to that. They texted daily. He’d learned she had a thing for bonsai trees, mechanical pencils, and Gilmore Girl reruns. She also had a knack for sending him funny GIFs and memes right when he needed something to brighten his day.

The previews hadn’t started, so there was nothing to distract him from looking at her graceful, lively face. His eyes traced the slopes of her cheeks, the firm curve of her chin. “The popcorn isn’t great,” he pointed out. “It’s kind of stale and too salty. So that further detracts from the romantic atmosphere.”

“I’d agree with you, if there was such a thing as not-good popcorn.”

“Exhibit A.” He tapped the rim of the popcorn tub.

“No matter what, it’s crunchy kernels popped in oil, then sprinkled with salt. So—still good.”

“In that case, you can have my share.”

“I wouldn’t hear of it. Then I’d gain ten pounds, and you’d become even more fit. If you were any more fit, I might feel romantic feelings.”

He huffed with amusement. “My current body leaves something to be desired?”

“So much to be desired. And thank goodness for it. Your dad bod is my safety net.”

“Uh-huh.” He was in the same shape now that he’d been in back in college when he’d played baseball.

“Speaking of romance, how are things progressing for you on the recovering-from-heartbreak front?” she asked.

He took a sip of the hot chocolate. Delicious. Thick and rich with a crown of whipped cream. “I realized a while back that I’m not the best at letting myself feel negative emotions. It’s not my M.O. to be the moody, pessimistic guy.”

“Ah.”

“Everybody counts on me to be the upbeat guy. Not that I’m blaming anybody else. I stay the upbeat guy because that’s what I count on myself to be. I’m always fine. Always. So, if something makes me feel uncomfortable, I just shove it away and go on being fine.”

“I understand.” Her fingers toyed with the fringe on her throw blanket. “Back when I was sick, I did everything I could think of to distract myself from feeling scared. Bad decision. It would’ve been much better to talk with somebody about my fears and work through them. Instead, I didn’t mention it to anyone and so anxiety kept bubbling up and then devouring me.”