"What did you say?"

Val stared up at me, her eyes wide as she listened to me tell her what had happened last night with Andrew. He wasn't here when she got home, and - when she realized that a guy had come over to hang out - she peppered me with questions for about fifteen minutes before she realized that I was too exhausted to cave in to her demands.

Not to mention the fact that I hadn't even started to process what he told me.

"I didn't say anything," I admitted with a helpless shrug, and Val looked like she wanted to murder me. "What?! What was I supposed to say? 'Sounds good to me?' Val, I just met him."

"That's absolutely what you're supposed to say, you moron!" She groaned, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "A cute guy said that he wanted to start 'seeing' you, Cait. It's not rocket science! YOU SAY YES!"

I closed my eyes with a whimper, massaging my temples as she paced around our tiny apartment. I knew she'd be frustrated with my response - or lack thereof - but what else was I supposed to do? I liked Andrew, and I was coming to terms with that fact, but that did not mean I was ready to start seeing him. Seeing him meant dates and feelings and honest conversations, and those were all things that I was not equipped to handle. I couldn't open up to my roommate and best friend, so how was Andrew going to like it if I stayed closed off to him too?

Plus, I had my life planned out. I was going to work at Starbucks until school started, go to school full-time to finish my degree, then apply for grad school. NYU's Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences offered a Master's degree in Scientific Computing, and I planned on entering their program immediately after finishing my undergraduate studies. After that, my plan had always been to leave New York. 

Stanford was my dream, and their Ph.D. program in the Institute for Computational and Mathematical Engineering was insanely competitive, so I didn't really have the time or mental space for a relationship - let alone for a relationship with a celebrity. Whether or not Andrew wanted to admit it, he was Lincoln Shepherd and that made things difficult. His life was on the go, constantly in the public eye, and incredibly complicated.

Complicated doesn't help you get into Stanford.

"Cait..." Val's voice softened. "Do you like him?"

I opened my eyes to look at her. If I admitted it to her, I couldn't take the words back. I'd just started to be honest with myself, but I still clung to the knowledge that it wasn't out there in the open yet. I could take it back and pretend it never happened, but the second the words slipped through my lips I knew they would stick to me.

"I do," I admitted softly, looking far too serious to be someone admitting something like this. "I like him a lot."

A smile stretched itself across her lips, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

Val sunk into the sofa next to me and poked me in the side, causing me to squeal and swat at her hand. She erupted into snickers, poking me repeatedly as I scrambled to escape her attack. I grabbed a pillow, swinging it at her head, and she snatched it as I ran to the kitchen for something to drink.

"That's what you're supposed to look like, by the way," she called out to me as I opened the refrigerator.

I grabbed a container of cranberry juice and poured myself a glass, "What are you talking about?"

Sipping on my juice, I put the container away and leaned on the wall facing her. I was still smiling, my shoulders relaxed, and I felt better than I had in weeks. I came to New York as an escape from my problems, an escape from my past, and I was a tightly wound ball of stress because of it. I spent so much time and effort keeping myself closed off, preventing anything from slipping out and anyone from getting in, that even my body had taken a toll. Sure, I exercised regularly and the endorphins helped, but it was nothing like this.

"Happy," she stated. "You look happy."

A day later later, Andrew invited me out to dinner and, somehow, I accepted. I spent several hours before the date getting ready, by which I mean I watched Netflix for about 2 hours until I realized I had less than forty-five minutes to shower, change, and do my hair and makeup before Andrew planned to pick me up.

I still hadn't admitted to Val that Andrew and Lincoln were the same person, and - truthfully - I was a little nervous at how she might respond. She knew that Lincoln had asked for my phone number, but I was careful not to talk about him and I only ever called him Andrew in conversation. I should've told her. She was my best friend, after all, but part of me was convinced that if I kept it secret then it wouldn't matter as much if and when it didn't work out.

A relationship that didn't work out with Lincoln Shepherd? That was a big deal.

One that doesn't work with Andrew, some 'random guy' that I met on the street?

Not so much.

I owed it to Andrew to be honest about it. I knew that much. I wasn't trying to hide the fact that I liked him from her, but I was trying to make it easier on myself. Just like I didn't want to admit it out loud that I liked him for fear of making it too real, I didn't want Val to know that Andrew and Lincoln were one and the same. It was too real, too intense, and all too uncertain.

It was also selfish of me. I pretended like I was keeping it from her because I wanted to protect Andrew's identity, but really I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to protect my heart. I was terrified that this was going to go wrong, and - if it did - I wanted my roommate to be on my side. I wanted her to tell me that he was a worthless asshole who didn't deserve my time or attention. As it was, I was terrified that Val would think that I screwed it up. After all, he's Lincoln Shepherd. He's her crush, the celebrity she's been obsessed with for years, and he does no wrong.

If our relationship failed, surely that would make me the bad guy in her eyes.

God, we weren't even dating and I was already thinking about what was going to happen if we broke up. How sad was that? Surely it was a sign that this was a bad idea, and - by the time I was finished getting ready - I convinced myself of that very fact.

I wanted to text him and call it off, cancel the date, swap my green sundress for sweatpants, and binge on Netflix and ice cream. That was my idea of a perfect Sunday evening.

Before I could pluck up the courage to do so, however, there was a knock at our apartment door. My heart leapt in my throat, and I felt a surge of panic running through my body. I wanted to ignore it, to pretend I wasn't home and let all of this wash away, but I forced my feet forward step-by-step until I twisted the door handle and opened the door to reveal Andrew standing outside my apartment.

"Wow," he breathed, a smile erupting across his face and brightening each and every one of his features. "You look...wow."

When he smiled, my breath hitched in my chest and I could feel my heart skip a beat. It was like the sun shining down on my face, and I relished in the fact that he was smiling like that because of me.

"Hi," I whispered, standing frozen in front of him like an idiot.

Andrew moved an arm from behind his back and produced a small bouquet of peonies, holding it out to me. I gasped, grinning stupidly, and bit my lip as I accepted the tiny bundle of pale pink flowers from him. The blossoms exploded into existence, layer after layer of imperfect petals piling on top of each other to make something so jaggedly beautiful that it took my breath away. Unlike the sweet precision of roses, peonies were gorgeous despite their inconsistencies and imperfections. They weren't predictable, they weren't refined, and I absolutely adored them.

"Thank you," I smiled at Andrew, stepping out of the way so he could move into the apartment. "Give me a second to put these in some water."

He closed the door, allowing me to step dreamily into the kitchen while I looked for something to place the flowers in so we could leave. We didn't have a vase, so I grabbed one of the mason jars Val used for her smoothies and filled it with water. The flowers fit perfectly inside once I trimmed the stems, and I leaned forward to inhale their sweet scent.

"Do you like them?" Andrew asked, causing me to whirl around in surprise.

His tall frame was leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, and he was watching me carefully as I blushed. Nodding, I picked up the bouquet and carried it into the main room of our tiny apartment, placing it on a dresser in clear view from my bed.

"They're beautiful," I murmured, adjusting one of the flowers before stepping back to admire the way the flowers lit up the room. "Thank you. Again."

"If you smile like that every time you get a few flowers, I'm going to bring you a dozen roses every time I see you," he teased, waiting for me while I pulled on my gray suede jacket over my sundress.

I wrinkled my nose, "Are you normally this cheesy?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "Is it working?"

Laughing, I nodded, "Absolutely, but I think I like peonies more than roses."

"Noted," Andrew replied as I walked toward the door and glanced at the flowers one last time.

We left the apartment, locking up behind us, and headed downstairs to where a car was waiting for us. The sleek black vehicle shocked me, and for a moment I felt completely underdressed. Andrew was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a leather jacket over a grey henley, but I still couldn't help but ask him if what I was wearing was okay.

"You look perfect," he reassured me, placing his hand on the small of my back as he guided me toward the car and opened the door for me. "I promise."

Taking a deep breath, I slipped into the backseat of the car and tucked my legs inside. Andrew shut the door behind me, circling to the other side of the vehicle, and climbed inside next to me.

He smiled at the driver, "We're all set."

The car was impeccable on the inside, and tiny bottles of water were tucked into cup holders of center console in front of us. A cell phone charger dangled from inside the compartment, and I noticed that the driver was using a mounted cell phone to navigate through the traffic.

"Wait," I whispered to Andrew, recognizing the app the driver pressed before pulling out onto the street. "Is this an Uber?"

He laughed loudly, the sound filling the car, and nodded, "Of course. Did you want something else?"

"No!" I backpedaled, blushing fiercely. "Absolutely not. This is better, trust me," I babbled. "It's just...it was so nice from the outside, I figured it was a private car and I panicked. I thought we'd be going to some fancy restaurant where you need to be able to tell the difference between three different identical forks, and I just can't do that."

Andrew smiled, reaching for my hand, and intertwined his fingers with mine.

"Cait," he said softly. "I'm nervous too."

"Really?" I whispered, looking up from our hands to meet his eyes.

They were more green than blue today, and I was surprised to see the honesty etched in them as he nodded. His thumb ran across the length of my first finger, the motion calming me, and I exhaled slowly. My whole arm was tingling from the contact between our two hands, but I wouldn't dream of pulling away from him. Much like everything else between us, it felt right.

Holding onto Andrew's hand, I felt tethered to the earth in a way that I hadn't since I moved to New York. I felt safe. I felt secure. I felt....happy.

Val was absolutely right. This was how things were supposed to be.