I wished I had turned on the ceiling fan last night. Not because I was hot, I wasn't, but so I would now have had something to stare at other than the smooth, white ceiling. Maybe the ceaseless round and round of the rotor blades would have lulled me back to sleep. Instead, I was stuck lying in bed at 6 am on a Saturday morning, buzzing and incapable of falling back asleep.

Fatigue drenched my skin and bones. The night had been restless. I had woken up several times, my brain going into overdrive every time, replaying the conversation with Liam. The way he'd smirked when I suggested I could be into someone else, even if it wasn't John. He was so sure of himself, yet felt threatened by John Jay. Liam Confortale, objectively the best guy I'd ever met, felt threatened by a college athlete of all people. I knew there was more to John than met the eye, but Liam didn't.

'You know I like you'. Way to play the ball back into my field. As if I should have known and he wouldn't have needed to say anything had I paid attention. He hadn't meant it that way, but this was what my overanalyzing mind took away from the conversation. That, and that he had feelings for me. Whoa.

Sighing, I flung back the comforter and sat up. If I was wide awake anyway, I could at least use the time more productively than to overthink. Plodding over to my closet, I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. Thankfully, I wasn't meeting John for study group today, it was the last thing I needed. No more thoughts of him or Liam today. I had to study for my midterms.

Why couldn't he crush on someone else? He was objectively a good person. Too good for me. I wasn't as nurturing as Jessica or as supportive as Grampa or as patient as Dad. I just wasn't.

It's one date. Only tonight. I'm going and then I'll tell him I'm flattered, but can't commit to a relationship right now. Simple.

***

I had changed into and out of three outfits: the denim skirt was too short for the season, the cable-knit sweater too warm, the cardigan too thin. I had pulled my hair into a bun and fixed it with a gazillion bobby pins only to take them all out again and brush my hair out. Then I had wanted to curl it, but I hadn't had time to run to Jessica's to get her curling iron and hadn't thought of asking her to bring it when she came over earlier.

"Chica, relájate. This is Liam." Jessica looked up from her textbook. She was lounging on my bed, propped up against a stack of cushions, doing homework.

"I know," I whined. "I don't know why I care so much."

"Just spitballing here: could it be that you like him and want the date to be special?" She scratched her scalp with the metal end of the pencil where the eraser had been.

Did I?

"I don't know. Is Liam a contender for being the best guy who's ever walked the surface of the earth? Obviously."

Jessica sat up, placed her pencil in her textbook and closed it, setting it aside carefully. "Babe, I like Liam just fine, but are you sure it's justified to put him on this pedestal?"

"It's... too much. Too fast. I didn't have time to get used to the idea."

"Oh, are we ignoring what I just asked you, is that what we're doing?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes.

"Gracie, do you know what you want?"

John. The millisecond the thought popped into my mind, my eyes popped out of their sockets and shivers raced through my body. My stomach churned. The most terrifying thing about the thought was—I meant it. But this could not happen. Even the idea was completely, unambiguously off limits. So off limits that I hadn't even told Jessica about The Movie Night. I cleared my throat.

"I wanted something casual. Not as in friends with benefits, just something low-key."

"Like friendship?"

Two girls laughed hysterically out in the hallway. The October wind whistled in front of my window, blowing around blops of green and brown and orange.

When I didn't reply, my best friend continued: "You said 'wanted', past tense. Has that changed?"

I picked at my cuticles, my mind swirling. If the alternative is pining after a taken man, then yes.

"I mean, it doesn't hurt to try. He's a great guy and I don't know why I'm being so skittish. I can still call it quits at any point if it's not working for me."

"You absolutely can," she confirmed. "As long as you're in touch with your feelings and communicate openly, you'll be fine."

Shaking out my limbs and stretching my neck both ways, I turned back around to face my closet, but met her eye in the reflection in the full-length mirror. "You know I love you, Jess, right?"

"I love you too, Gracie."

"Now that we've established that"—my smile was sweet as sugar—"you can tell me what the heck to do with my hair."

By the time Liam knocked on my door, Jessica had pulled the upper portion of my blond hair into a ponytail and had finally convinced me to leave it.

"Hey, Grace! Hey, Jessica."

Suddenly my nerves were gone. Jessica had been right: It was only Liam, and everything about his being here was natural. Nothing about his presence was jarring or tense or confusing or unsettling, unlike—

He gave me a lightning-quick once-over and smiled in approval. His light blue button-down and khakis underneath his gray coat suited him, even if they emphasized how underdressed I was in my pair of jeans and silky black-and-white polka dot shirt. Instinctively, my fingers reached to smooth out the twisted collar of his shirt. I didn't miss his fixating gaze or his sudden sharp inhale when my knuckles lightly brushed against his neck.

"Long time no see, Liam. How's it goin'?" Jessica's voice ripped him out of the moment. "I'm bummed you won't let me join tonight." Humor glinted in her eyes.

Liam opened his mouth and I half-thought he was going to invite her along. I would have loved to have Jessica as moral support, but of course I understood that wasn't happening.

"Don't you have math homework to attend to, chica?" he instead teased.

"Ugh, don't remind me. Calc is kicking my behind so bad. I should've taken it in high school."

"Don't I know it," sighed Liam. "I learned the same lesson the same hard way last year." Then he turned to me. "Anyway, are you ready to go?"

Nodding, I turned to lead the way out the door. Jessica blew me a quick kiss. "Have fu-un," she sang before the door clicked shut behind me. Liam arched one eyebrow and I rolled my eyes in response, grinning.

***

Liam had booked a table for us at The Indian Experience, a popular little restaurant downtown, an eight-minute walk from Starr. I had never been, mostly because I was reluctant to spend my money on myself when I had a full meal plan. My student loans would already haunt me for much too long of a time and I wasn't keen on extending them. Liam had made it clear that he was paying, and I reasoned with myself to not make it a big deal.

Calm and cozy was how I would have described the atmosphere at the restaurant. The dining room fit more tables than one would have expected and the dark wood in combination with the patterned carpet made you forget for a second that you were in smalltown New England. Daylight had faded and the indoor lighting was welcoming, yet required a moment to adjust to its brightness.

Over veggie curry and naan to share, we talked and laughed about all sorts of things which are fascinating when you're part of the live conversation and utterly boring when recited.

How silly of me to feel nervous about tonight. Yes, it was a date which was an unusual occasion, but it was Liam. I'd always been calm and comfortable around him and tonight was no different. He was still the same kind and compassionate person he had been freshman year.

"A penny for your thoughts." Liam's dark eyes scrutinized my face from across the table. The artificial light dipped his charming facial features into a smooth, mellow hue. His elbows on the table, one hand wrapped around the other, he smiled his thousand-watt smile.

"I was thinking about how I still know you even after last year when we didn't hang out at all."

His smile became warmer, if that was possible.

When he stayed silent, I felt the need to say something more. "That's how you know a close friend from a friend, if it doesn't matter how much time has passed between now and then."

It didn't go past me that the corner of his mouth twitched almost invisibly at the f-word. Give it time, I'm not there yet.

Our table was tucked away in a corner. I'd always liked corners. They were more intimate and allowed me to hide from unwanted eyes, so I was taken aback when I locked eyes with John's friend Aidan, the pregamer, who had evidently been having dinner with his girlfriend Janine and was getting ready to leave. He smiled and waved. There was no point in pretending not to have seen, so I smiled back and lifted my hand in return.

I returned Aidan's smile and wave, but when Liam craned his neck, he had already turned away. "Who is it?"

"One of John's teammates. I don't know him well, only from the suite parties."

"Oh. Do you go to their parties a lot?"

"I went a couple of times."

"He seems to know you well enough to go out of his way to wave."

The air grew thicker. Pointing out the pregamer bond didn't feel like a good deescalating strategy, so I willed my speech to be slow and my voice to be stern.

"Our eyes met, he was being polite."

"Aren't the suite parties for the players and their girlfriends only?"

"Liam. No, they're not. I'm friends with John and his suitemate Devin and they invited me. But John's girlfriend always goes, in case you were wondering."

"I'm just making conversation."

"No, you're interrogating. Let it go."

He rubbed his face with his palms and sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. Tonight's been fantastic, I shouldn't go ruining it."

He reached across the table to quickly brush his thumb across the knuckles of my curled hand before pulling back again.

"So do you watch any sports apart from soccer?"

***

Back at my dorm, the metal steps to the third floor clonked underneath our boots, intensified by our silence. It had taken a couple of minutes after his pang of misdirected jealousy for the conversation to normalize again. Overall, though, I had enjoyed dinner with him.

On the eight-minute walk back to Starr, he had repeated how he couldn't believe it had taken me until junior year to eat at The Indian Experience. I shrugged. Anything else would have required me to bring up finances, and I didn't feel like talking through my insecurities tonight.

In front of my door, we stood awkwardly for a second before both starting to speak at the same time: "I had a wonderful time tonight," he admitted while I said: "Thank you for dinner." We both chuckled, then I took a step toward him and hugged his waist. He let out a sigh and hugged me back tightly. God, his hugs... His arms were warm and comfortable, I wanted to sink into them and never come back up. He was like a big, lean teddy bear.

After a moment, I slowly untangled our arms, looked up at him, and said quietly: "Good night."

I had turned toward my door when he softly pulled me back toward him with a tug on my hand which he hadn't let go of. Suddenly our thighs nearly touched. It was a different kind of closeness than when we had been hugging a mere moment ago. My heartbeat resonated in my ears as his free hand traced an invisible line from my elbow to my wrist, sending shivers up my arm.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Damn, what is my plan again here? I had run through my options earlier, but hadn't settled on one. Did I want to turn him down or give it a go?

"Tomorrow it can all go back to the way it was before if that's what you want."

The touch of his fingers was sweet, pushing a lock of straight hair that had come undone back behind my ear.

Suddenly, the forbidden thought escaped its prison in my head and crept into my consciousness. It couldn't happen and I needed to get it off my mind.

So I lowered my eyes, nodded, and whispered back: "Okay."

Liam took his time, brushing my cheek with his left thumb and the inside of my wrist with his right thumb. He lifted my chin for me to meet his gaze before closing his eyes and touching his lips to mine. I didn't recall ever watching someone close their eyes before leaning down to kiss me and it was one of the most awkward things I had witnessed to date.

But he made me forget all about it in a second. His lips were soft and warm and fit mine perfectly. I didn't feel giddy—is that a bad sign? Should I have been? Should I have told him no?—but I nonetheless liked it. If this peck was already making me question my initial doubts, I could only imagine how good of a kisser he had to be.

After pulling away and opening his eyes, he hugged me to his chest again tightly and mumbled: "Good night, Grace. Talk to you tomorrow."

Then he stepped away and walked out slowly, not without turning around to shoot me another core-melting smile.

What have I gotten myself into?