Heat flared brightly in my chest as I forced myself to look away from the coffee shop window. There he was—Eliot—chatting up the attractive barista behind the counter. Laughing, grinning, lingering just a little too long when something passed between their hands...

"Don't mind her," said Jasmine—my supposed high school friend whose name I'd only just remembered. "Total workaholic—well, you know how it goes, I'm sure." She offered a laugh so high and pretty it had to be forced. "What is it you and your boy—oh!" Suddenly, her face lit up, eyes tracking up over my head. "This must be him!"

My stomach dropped clean down through the sidewalk. The heat of Eliot beside me was immediate. A hand pressing to the middle of my back. They touched so infrequently these days it was maddening, instantly sending my body through the five stages of grief and/or arousal.

"Um—" I turned my face upward, giving myself over to the blissful blankness that preceded making a terrible decision. This was no time for minor inconveniences like being cursed with a brain. I went up on my toes, crashing myself in the general direction of Eliot's mouth and pecking him on the lips. Awkward, poorly aimed, good enough. "Hi… babe, um…"

I pulled away, pressed my shoes flat to the solid ground. Breathed, panicked. For a moment everything bent sideways, and I was certain I was going to pass out.

Eliot's eyebrows suddenly occupied the space generally reserved for his hairline. "Hi… darling?"

"Hi, um—Eliot, this is, uh—" My gaze bounced between Eliot and Jasmine, brain suddenly kicking into overdrive. "We went to, um—"

"Eliot! It's so lovely to meet you!" Jasmine thrust her hand forward into Eliot's grasp. "Jasmine. Quentin here was just telling me all about you two love birds and your big plans for the afternoon. I hope you don't mind if my wife and I tag along?"

Eliot slowly retreated from the handshake. "Our… big plans. Yes. Of course. Darling, what did you—"

I let a laugh break out of my chest, sounding just the side of manic. "Oh, um—she just means our movie date... sweetie pie, um—" I pleaded in Eliot's direction with my eyes. "But then I remembered we, uh—we have that other thing, right? The uh—the thing… with your mom? The fitting for the, uh—thing…"

"Right…" Eliot said with a little tip of his head, curling an arm possessively around my shoulders, tugging me close. "We wouldn't dream of missing the thing. With my mom. Very important fitting thing. With my darling mother whom I adore."