We had a plan.
We were ignoring him.
We were being mature.
We were making good life choices.
And instead, you’re over here like, “Remember when he touched your waist? Remember how close he was? How good he tasted? Remember how you melted like a complete idiot?”
I’m a traitor to myself!
An absolute traitor.
So yeah.
Avoidance.
That’s where I’m at.
Because if I see him again?
There is a very real chance I will forget every single one of these very logical, very necessary thoughts and do something incredibly stupid.
Like believe in magic.
And we all know how that ends.
Right?
Right.
So, let’s do a reality check.
Fact: I have a serious crush on David—aka DJ Mars—global superstar, apparently also secret small-town menace.
Fact: he is wildly, astronomically, insanely out of my league.
Also fact: if I see him again, there is a non-zero chance I might actually jump him.
So yeah. Avoidance has been my strategy.
For the last three days, Maribel has opened, worked, and closed the shop while I’ve been holed up in my apartment like some kind of emotionally compromised goblin.
Very dignified.
Very mature.
My phone buzzes again.
I groan and flip it over.
Then pause.
Adrianna.
Oh.
Right.