She came out eventually, lost in a bulky blue sweatshirt and Nick tried not to laugh; he handed her a beer and sighed. “It’s a hundred and three outside, Starr. You’re going to roast in that thing.”

“I got cold,” she replied defensively, not looking at him even as she took the beer. Nick gave a shrug. He’d already retrieved his own shirt, finished washing the car and put away the bucket in the time it had taken her to come out of her bedroom. She wandered to the sofa and flopped down on it, taking a long pull of the beer as the silence between them grew heavy and awkward. Nick leaned over the counter and looked at her. “Wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to say?” Starr mumbled. “I came onto you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Must have gotten carried away by all your muscles there—“

Her tone bothered him, and Nick set his beer down, drawing in a deep breath. He wanted to go over to the sofa, but sensed if he did Starr would retreat, so he kept where he was and spoke again, softly. “Hey, it takes two to tango, Sundance, so let’s be fair. Nobody forced me to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.

Starr finally looked up at him, and a surge of something vulnerable and sweet hit Nick when he met her puppy brown eyes. She blinked. “I . . . wanted to kiss you too. It’s been hard to work up the courage.”

“Yeah, well I’d say we did pretty damn well for two scared shitless people,” Nick pointed out, chuckling a bit. It was true of course, and now that he could see her forlorn expression he felt himself relax a little. “Can I come over there?”

Starr laughed and patted the cowhide print cushions invitingly. Nick sauntered over and dropped himself down, sighing as he set his bottle of the coffee table. Starr shifted to face him, her blush back again. “I’m sorry for getting pushy, okay Nick? You know me; I’m not normally like this.”

“Whoah, hold on a minute. You weren’t pushy, I was. I saw your neck and went for it like a vampire,” he reminded her sheepishly, not precisely ashamed of the moment, but not proud of it either. Starr arched an eyebrow at his description, but didn’t argue. He rubbed a hand over his warm face. “It wasn’t like I was trying to take advantage of you—the opportunity sort of presented itself.”

“Oh.” Starr sounded a little faint, and Nick realized he’d made a faux pas. He gritted his teeth.

“Okay, that didn’t come out right— what I mean is that the opportunity I’d been WAITING for presented itself.”

Starr punched his arm lightly. “Good save, Stokes.”

“It’s true,” he protested, giving her a broken smile. “I’m not a player, not all smooth with women like Warrick.”

Starr shook her head and the look she gave him had a tenderness that warmed him right to his toes. “I like you just the way you ARE, Butch. And . . . “ she trailed off. Nick waited until she cleared her throat. “ . . . You kiss good, too.”

That DID make him blush, and somehow it was easy to reach over and take her hand, weave his fingers with hers and squeeze her palm gently. Starr squeezed back and her grip was hard enough to make him wince. “Hey! No crushing the fingers—“

“Don’t go wussy on me now, Nick.”

“Yeah, keep that talk up and I’m taking my DVD home,” he threatened. Starr contritely dropped his hand and looked with delight at the box still sitting on the coffee table. She picked it up, stroking the cover.

“Woo! The Grand Prix AND Steve McQueen, I am so in LOVE!” Starr declared loudly. Nick rolled his eyes, but managed to move closer to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. Startled, she allowed it, and he leaned forward, whispering.

“We’re watching it for the CARS, Starr. And the racing.”

“And Steve McQueen.”

“Woman, you have such a one-track mind.” He grinned, and she settled against his shoulder, her eyes bright.

The movie ran long; they took a break in the middle to order a pizza and didn’t start the film up again until after the food arrived, hot and delectable. Starr made a salad to go with it; by the time the soundtrack faded away and the last credits rolled, Nick felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction. He checked his watch and realized it was time to head into work; with a sigh Nick picked up the box and set it on the counter.

Starr rose up too and undid her ponytails, finger combing her hair out and giving her head a shake. “I’m going to have to shower before going in, but hey, at least my car’s clean.”

“I just hope the seat’s dry,” Nick shot back with a grin. Starr winced. She walked him to the door, and once they reached her porch they both paused. The awkwardness was back, full-strength; a sweet and shy thing between them. Nick cleared his throat.

“Hey Starr?” he asked, his voice lower than usual. Overhead the stars were out, and the heat of the day lingered in the darkness. Starr slouched against the doorframe, her velvety eyes bright.

“Yeah?”

“I’d like—well, would it be okay if you and I went out sometime?” he blurted, running a hand along the back of his neck. Nick hated how he sounded, nervous and stuttery, but it wasn’t easy to ask, much as he’d thought about it. For a moment the night was quiet, and then Starr made a soft little sound, repeating it again.

“Um hmm.”

“That’s yes?” he asked, needed some confirmation, looking up at her as the light from her duplex spilled over her shoulders and backlit her. Starr nodded.

He grinned, and the flood of relief was so strong, so overwhelmingly good all through his chest and shoulders that Nick laughed out loud. Then Starr cupped his face tenderly in her hands, bent forward and kissed him.

Soft and sweet, her mouth was deliciously flavored with hints of the pizza, and he pulled her up against him as he leaned on the doorframe. The kiss deepened between them, building up quickly as Nick’s tongue happily circled Starr’s. Crickets chirped in the semi-darkness; and distantly the sound of someone’s MTV carried over the warm lawns.

Reluctantly Starr gripped Nick’s shoulders and pulled herself away, laughing a little as she blinked. “Oh you are a bad, bad man, Nick Stokes. You better go before . . . “

He smiled, his dimples deep for a moment, and then sighed. Carefully he hugged her, letting her mold herself against him, allowing the sweet unspoken kiss of their bodies to happen.

The fit was good. Nick gave her a last kiss and turned away, heading for his car, feeling a twist in his stomach. The mild frustration of being half-hard ached a little, but he could deal with that later. Right now all that mattered was that he’d asked, and she’d said yes.

It was a good night.

“So you’re going out with her.”

“Yep. Figured I’d take her to the Double Deuces and we’d do whatever she likes—pool, maybe some darts. Hand me that bindle would you? Thanks.”

“Let me get this straight—You’ve been hanging out at her place for a couple of months now and this is the first time you’re taking her out?” Greg sounded puzzled. Nick looked up from the little pile of glass shards in the sink and nodded. “May I ask WHY this took so long?”

“Nope.”

“Oh come on—if you hang out at some girl’s house then the two of you are friends. But if you move to going out, then that indicates some sort of escalation. Action, as it were.”

Nick said nothing, pretending to concentrate on the tweezers in his gloved hands. Greg’s question bothered him a little more than he wanted to admit, and he wasn’t about to state the real reason it had taken so long to make the transition. Instead, he sighed. Greg got out another bindle and labeled it.

“Fine—so you’re officially seeing somebody and I’m happy for you, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m glad for you.” When Nick looked up, surprised, Greg added, “Warrick and I have been, you know, worried about you. Since the whole . . . burial thing. Worried that you’d be pulling back from life, and stuff.”

“Pulling back from life?” Nick wondered, trying not to laugh at the phrase and touched at the concern on Greg’s face.

“Well yeah—“ he admitted softly, looking down at the evidence. “It happens sometimes to people who have shit happen. I felt like it after the explosion in the lab. For a long time I didn’t want to do anything but work and go straight home.”

Nick said nothing, feeling a little stunned and guilty at Greg’s admission. He’d never thought about the other man’s experience, never considered what Greg been through. His expression must have shown on his face because Greg gave a small smile and spoke up again. “Hey, don’t worry about me. It took some time, and just being at work with everyone there for me helped a lot. Things happen to all of us, and I guess the point is that we go on because we have people who care.” He laughed and added, “And now that we’ve had our Doctor Phil moment for the day, let’s get this stuff finished up, okay?”

Nick nodded, suddenly grateful to have Greg around.

He called Mina’s bar during his lunch break and smiled when he heard Starr’s soft drawl on the line: “Mina’s, how can I help you?”

“You can say yes to a Saturday night out with me.”

“Nick! This Saturday?”

“Yeah, I have it off. Traded with Warrick. Can you make it?” Nick asked lightly, feeling both nervous and happy. In the background he could hear the sounds of the bar, and the faint strains of “Desperado” coming through the line.

“I can make it—Oh God, um, where are we going?”

“The Double Deuces?”

A little squeal told him it was the perfect suggestion, and Nick felt a flush of pleasure wash through him at the sound. Making Starr happy felt good, and he grinned into the phone. Such a little thing, and yet his mood was suddenly lighter than it had been in days.

“We can play pool, and oh Nick, do you dance?”

“A little. Don’t get your hopes up, Starr—“ he warned with a laugh, “Just because I have a few muscles does NOT mean I’m co-coordinated.”

“You’re from Texas. At the LEAST you can two-step,” she reminded him tartly.

Nick snorted but finally admitted, “Yeah, I suppose I can. Pick you up around seven?”

“Seven. And Nick?” Starr’s voice dropped lower, almost lost amid the sounds of the bar around her, “Thank you. I’m really happy.” She hung up quickly, before he had a chance to say anything to her last words.

But Nick thought about them all week.

The flowers were a last minute impulse, and looking at them on the car seat, Nick worried that they would wilt before he reached Starr’s duplex. The only choice at the corner market had been white daisies, but the cellophane made a nice cone, and it was too late to change anything now.

He scooped them up and headed up the walk, spotting Wally out on his lawn again, this time with a telescope. Nick slowed and the older man waved him over, giving him a cursory glance.

“Looking pretty Home on the Range there, Romeo,” Wally commented blandly. Nick glanced down at his collarless shirt and new jeans, flushing a little.

“Yeah well, special occasion and all.”

“You’re telling ME,” Wally harrumphed, finally turning a stern gaze at Nick. He rested his hands on the telescope and kept looking until Nick until the younger man gave a low sigh.

“Wally, if you have something to say, man, just say it, okay?” Came Nick’s exasperated comment. He shifted the flowers from one hand to the other, and Wally broke into a soft smile, his mustache shifting to reveal his big white teeth. He chuckled.

“Fine. I envy you on this fine night, Nicholas Stokes. I envy you your youth and looks, your ability to stay awake past eleven o’clock and mostly, your night out with beautiful Starr. There is a celestial alignment on the horizon, and the influence of the moon does wonders for lonely souls in an attractive orbit.”

“Okaaayy,” Nick muttered, but Wally solemnly winked at him and turned back to the telescope.

“Bottom line, Nick—have a good time and let things unfold as they should. You’re only young now, boy—so enjoy the moment. Nice posies—she’s gonna love those.”

Nick relaxed, straightening up. He flashed a bright smile back at Wally and gave a little nod of thanks, then headed back towards the front door of Starr’s side of the duplex, ringing the bell.

It took longer than usual for her to answer the door; so long that Nick had begun to get a little nervous. Wally wasn’t watching—his focus was through the lens piece of the telescope—but Nick felt a sense of amusement radiating from the older man. Then the door finally opened and he looked up.

Breathing hurt.

Starr stood there, a long curvy nymph in a powder pink mini-dress that clung in all the right places and enough of the wrong ones to make Nick’s mouth go dry. Starr smoothed her hands down her hips self-consciously, then shot him a look. “Hey Nick—almost ready.”

Nick knew HE was ready, oh yeah. Ready to stay in and forget about the Double Deuces while he and Starr played Find the Zippers. He blinked that hot hormonal thought away and managed a bright smile. Woodenly, he handed her the cone of daisies and she sighed, taking them from his nerveless fingers.

“Oh Butch they’re beautiful! Let’s get these in water—“ Turning she provided Nick with an excellent view of her ass that he enjoyed all the way into the kitchen. She reached up for a vase, talking the entire time. “ . . . And they LIKED the drawing, but they wanted a woman’s foot as well, so I have to start all over again. Nick? Are you okay?”

“Fine. You look . . . incredible,” he finally admitted. The minute he said it, Starr relaxed, tossing a long curl out of her face as she blushed a bit.

“Yeah, well you look pretty yummy too. I guess we both wanted to make a good impression, huh?” she admitted in a giggly voice. Nick gave her a tender glance.

“I guess so.”

Starr laughed a little self-consciously and stepped out into the living room again. She glanced down at her feet. “Need to go dig out some flats—be right back.”

“No heels?” Nick asked, taking his time looking at her legs. He liked letting her see him do it; it was fun to make her blush a little, and Nick realized she truly was nervous. The thought made him just a bit warm under the collar.

“Nick—“ Starr sighed, “If I wear heels, I’ll, ah . . . I’ll be taller than you.”

“So?” he blurted back, grinning. For a moment Starr stared at him, her warm brown eyes very rich in the lamplight. Then she gave a sweet sigh, smiling.

“God Nick Stokes, you’re just . . . incredible.”

“Yeah, well remember that for later, okay?” he leaned back against the counter, elbows bracing himself. “Come on—I know you’re tall and it’s never bothered me; you know that.”

“Yeah, but that was at home, not—in public,” she pointed out. “Some guys aren’t cool with that.”

“Some guys are idiots.” Nick pointed out impatiently. “I’m trying not to be one of them. So—dinner at El Rosale first?”

The music was loud, and by the sound of Starr’s enthusiastic accompaniment, irresistible. Nick watched her sway in her seat a little, enjoying the bounciness and well aware of the envious looks he was getting from all over the club. The Double Deuces had a lot of pretty women, but it was clear that Starr was making an impression, and Nick wondered if she was even aware of it.

She could be quite a flirt—he knew and appreciated that—but that was on a one to one basis. Here, she seemed oblivious to the attention and Nick speculated that it could have been habit, cultivated from years of tending bars. In his time with her, Starr had mentioned working in various places since she’d graduated college and he got the impression she was content with the part-time work.

“Nick, could we dance?” she called to him across the table, breaking into his musings. Nick hesitated a moment, then gave a self-effacing sigh and nodded. It was impossible to say no tonight; Starr had teased him, flattered him and made him laugh so many times that this little concession wouldn’t hurt. She helped him feel good; better than he had in months and Nick hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this lightness of heart.

He led her out on the floor as the previous song ended and for a second they stared at each other, the new awareness between them still evident in the fluttery touch of Starr’s hand on his shoulder as Nick stepped closer to her, laying a hand on her hip. Then the music began, and they both stiffened a moment.

Slow song.

Carefully, almost reverently Nick pulled Starr into his embrace as the sweet strains of the Eagle’s ‘Best of my Love’ began to play. Around them other couples were shuffling along, and the fans overhead barely kept a breeze going, but Nick ignored all of it, only aware of the way Starr’s body molded to his; hips and stomach pressing sweetly against is own. She slid her arms over his shoulders and rested her cheek against his; the scents of her: warm woman and perfume, mingled with the music in a way Nick knew he’d remember forever.

“I love this song—“ she whispered.

“Me too.”

They moved, rocking together naturally, falling into gentle rhythm to the music; not looking at each other, but still communicating in the most basic and sweetest of ways. Nick’s grip around her slender back tightened as he felt this throat ache.

This was good, this moment here and now with Starr in his arms just like this, and Nick turned to press the corner of his mouth to hers, smiling.

“Do you know how much I like you, Starr Jankowitz?” he asked, his voice over the melody. He felt her tremble ever so slightly, as if his question frightened her, so Nick squeezed her a bit.

“No,” she admitted in a tiny voice. He hummed softly, and in a moment of sheer bravado, Nick finally allowed himself to cup his hands over the bouncy curve of Starr’s ass, gripping it possessively. She started against him, and giggled, her own arms hugging him back. “Ohh! That much?”

“That much, Sundance. Oh damn, I know it’s not a polite thing to say, but you have an incredible butt,” he gulped, feeling it was an understatement. The sweet muscle of her ass flexed with every step, and he helplessly ground himself against her, enjoying the friction and realizing it was creating a big problem between them.

A noticeable problem.

Then Starr gave a low sigh and shifted, moving her tummy on his in a way that left no doubt that she not only noticed, but approved. Nick’s stomach tightened in quick reaction, his fingers clenching on the pillow of her ass.

“Oh Nick . . . “ she trailed off happily. “This is good.”

Nick closed his eyes, feeling that ‘good’ was hardly sufficient for what he was feeling. ‘Wonderful’ was a better choice, ‘fantastic’ worked too, and even ‘thrilled.’ He wished the song would keep playing for the next week or so, but it drew to an end several long, dreamy minutes later. Reluctantly he loosened his grip, and when Starr pulled free of his embrace he realized her eyes were wet. She blinked, rubbing her nose, and gave him a clownish smile.

“Sorry, I just get a little teary when I’m happy and right now I’m really really happy.”

“Yeah, well, me too,” he admitted gruffly.

They drove home, talking lightly of little things, Nick feeling the sweet tension deep in his stomach. He knew, easily and honestly, that Starr felt it too. Her grip in his free hand was very warm, and her fingers laced with his as their hands rested on her thigh. As the reached the shadow of the reservoir, Starr gave his grip a squeeze.

“What time is it?”

Nick looked. “A little after eleven.”

“Good. Wally will be asleep,” she murmured. Nick felt his anticipation go up another pleasurable notch. He pulled up and helped her out, and as he did so, Starr pointed up to the full moon spilling her silvery sheen across the quiet houses and lawns further down the road. “Wow. Wally told me there was supposed to be some sort of alignment tonight that would make everything clear.”

Nick laughed.

On the porch, just as she finished fishing out her key, he leaned over and kissed her quickly, a straight lingering peck that he didn’t draw out. Nick sighed playfully. “Well, it sure was a great night, Starr. See you.”

She laughed.

“Get your cute butt back here, Butch. If you think that qualified as a kiss goodnight, think again.”

“Yeah? Well in that case I may have to do a lot of thinking—“ he commented, following her into the dark house. Starr turned to Nick as he closed the door behind his back. They reached for each other, fumbling a little in the shadows, sliding into a desperate hug. Nick found her lips with his, feeling her answering hunger when their mouths opened wetly in a quick, thrilling kiss.

Hands slid, fabric rustled, Starr laughed breathlessly, working her way in lingering kisses to Nick’s ear. “Oh yeah, much better—“

“Yeah—“ Nick agreed thickly. It had been a long time, as his unruly body reminded him, and here in the dark, in this secret moment of passion he knew that he wanted her. He tried to speak, but she kept kissing him, enticing him into slick tongue games and his hands moved restlessly over her thin dress.

Finally Starr impatiently took his hand and brought it up to her breast; Nick groaned and flexed his fingers. “Ohhh damnnnn!”

“—That’s good, right?” Starr muttered between kisses down the side of his neck. Nick nodded jerkily, then slid his palm over the curve in a strong caress. It felt better than he’d imagined, and between his thighs his cock thickened in quick response to the sensations under his fingers.

Then Starr sucked just under his ear, along the ultra-sensitive skin there and Nick throbbed. Everywhere. His free hand slid down her ass, clutching it hard as he pulled her tightly against him and gasped. In his arms, Starr let her laugh muffle itself against his skin.

“Hot spot, huh? I’ll have to remember that one—“

“Starr—“ he gulped, twisting the two of them until she was the one against the door, “Babe, you have to tell me what you want. Kinda going crazy here.”

Taking a deep breath, Starr slid her arms around Nick’s ribcage, then let her hands drop to cup his ass, squeezing it.

“I want . . . to make you feel good, Nick. I want to kiss you in a lot of places . . . .” she confessed huskily. “I don’t think I can sleep with you yet, but I want to.”

Nick gave a low happy growl and kissed her again, this time doing it very lightly on her forehead. “You already make me feel good. And yeah, I want to kiss you too, every place you’ll let me.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Starr shifted, and took his hand, leading him in the dark to the sofa in the living room. Little shafts of moonlight came through the windows and made silvery rectangles on the floor. Nick felt his pulse, hard and fast throbbing in his head. Starr dropped herself to the sofa, tugging on his hand, and Nick followed her, sliding into her arms again, feeling the comfortable joy of her embrace.

They kissed, slowing down now to savor each other, so taste and suckle and learn each other’s mouths. Nick loved the way Starr yielded to his tongue at times, teasing it with her own. She shuddered when he nipped her lower lip, and retaliated by sprinkling little mouthings of her own all over his face.

And all the while, they laughed.

“Nick! Okay, you might call yourself a gentleman, but I know where your hands are—“

“—I know where they are too.”

“—And your fingers are cold!”

“—Sorry, Sundance, just trying to warm them up—“

“Ooh!”

Nick fought himself, fought the urges to take instead of tease. The lushness of Starr’s chest just under the thin material of her dress taunted him, and his fingers ached to touch the skin under it. As if reading his desires, Starr reached over and tugged the fabric off her shoulder, then looked at him, her eyes wide in the semi-darkness.

“Yes, I want it—“ she told him, and gratefully, Nick bent his head, pressing his mouth to the sleek flesh of her bare shoulder. He gently kissed his way down, mouth traveling over the rising swell, dimly aware that Starr was softly moaning with pleasure but he was too caught up in the satiny warm curve under his lips.

He tugged the fabric lower, and nuzzled; the eager, beautiful nipple appeared, and Nick gave a groan that rose up straight from his balls. Then Starr arched up and his mouth opened, tongue flicking out over the ruckered flesh.

Starr moaned, deep and musically. She slid her arms around Nick’s shoulders, pulling him to her as she lay back, shifting the two of them on the couch. Nick suckled; Starr writhed.

“Oh God, Nick, ohhhhh--“ she mewled as her hands clutched his back, pulling him closer and for long moments in the dark they rocked together, making the couch creak a bit. Then Starr tensed, her fingers digging into Nick’s shoulders as she gripped one of his thighs with hers. He felt her slow spasms against his body and the urge to give in himself rose up but he fought it back, letting her pleasure crest and ebb under him.

He licked the proud perky nipple again, and Starr twitched, her voice low and satisfied. “You bad, bad man---“

“Did you just--?”

“Mmmmm--for your information, yes I did. I have very sensitive tits. “

“God. No kidding—“

“It’s the hormones I take,” Starr sighed. “I got lucky that way.”

Nick laughed against the warm curve of her breast. “Me too.”

Starr giggled as well, and reached for the other shoulder, tugging the top of her dress down until her entire chest was exposed in the dim light. Nick raised himself up enough to appreciate the view, his breath coming in little wheezes.

“Let me guess—you’re a boob man?”

He bent enough to kiss her. “I’m a Starr man.”

She slid a hand around to his chest, and let it glide down the front of his shirt until she reached his belt buckle. “I like that. Now let’s see what you have to play with.”

“Damn you’re pushy,” he growled with embarrassed eagerness, watching her undo it.

“Complaining?” Starr questioned softly, pausing a moment.

“Hell no. Lucky, more like.” Nick admitted. She laughed and pushed him back a bit, readjusting them both on the sofa until Nick was the one sprawled out. Starr slowly set to work on his shirt buttons, kissing him after every one. Nick sighed with pleasure.

“Ohh, feels good—“ he gloated when she pressed her bare chest to his and settled in for a few deep kisses. The light weight of her, and the pliant bouncy press of her chest on his pecs made Nick nearly light-headed. Starr moved to kiss him under his ear again and he rocked his hips up into her growling with pleasure.

“Sundance—“ he warned her, and she teased him for just a moment longer, then slid one hand back down to his bulging fly.

“Hey—how long have you been like this?”

“Too long,” Nick snorted in frustration. “Only about two months, six days and some odd number of hours.”

“Nick—“ Starr whispered with a little twisted choke in her voice. She cupped the bulge and kissed him again, making Nick chuff a little against her lips. Then, carefully she slithered down and quickly tugged his zipper open. Her warm fingers touched him, circled his shaft with a firm grip that held him back perfectly. Nick bit his lip and looked down the length of his body to watch her, feeling as if lust was roasting him alive. Starr used her other hand to caress his cock.

“Oh Butch, you ARE a Texan—“ she giggled, and gently slid her mouth over the head. Nick’s low pleasure-filled groan rose out of his throat, and his fingers tightened on the cushions of the sofa.

The sight of his cock sliding in and out of Starr’s pretty mouth hurt with a passionate intensity. He held off as long as he could, but it had been too long and his body rebelled against any more delay. His pulse thrummed hard, and the warm unmistakable pressure behind his balls flared with sweet urgency, rising fast and hard.

“StarrGodbabyI’mgonnacomeloveyouohhhhhhh--“ he cried out in a fast slur of words and feelings, his orgasm erupting wetly. Starr loosened her grip and kept her head still, drinking him in, letting him ride out his bliss in several thrusts before she pulled back, swallowing thoughtfully. With tenderness she licked him clean and gently tucked his softening cock back into his underwear.

Nick gripped her shoulders and pulled her up onto him against him. He kissed her hard on the mouth, then dropped lighter ones across her cheeks and chin and nose and eyes before kissing her lips once more. “OhhhhGod. You’re amazing. You’re wonderful and I hope you don’t mind but I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you, Starr Jankowitz.”

“I don’t mind,” she laughed, and burst into tears.