My favorite voice responded, “How’s our girl today?”
I turned to Hil. “Gyver’s coming. You have to be nice. Gyver’s my …” I trailed off. Boyfriend didn’t seem right, not strong enough. “Gyver’s mine.”
Hil laughed, her throaty, haughty laugh. “Gyver’s always been yours. Why do you think I wanted-slash-hated him so much?”
“Can you be satisfied with every other male? What about Chris?”
“Am I the biggest hypocrite for hiding him all fall and giving you grief about dating?”
“Yes, but it really wasn’t so hidden—we all knew. Play nice with him; he’s crazy about you.” I would’ve said more but Gyver knocked and entered.
I smiled like a fool; I couldn’t help it. “Hey.” My voice was whispery, girly, ridiculous.
“Hey, Mi.” He answered with a matching smile and extended eye contact before acknowledging the impatient girl beside me. “Hi, Hillary.”
“Hey, Mac ‘n’ Cheese.” She wiped her cheeks, smoothed her hair, and stood.
“You know, I don’t actually like that name,” he said, but his voice was amused, so I relaxed back against my pillow.
“I know.” She gave me, then Gyver, impromptu hugs and walked to the door, turning around and grinning at our shocked expressions. “I’ll call you later, Mia.”
Gyver claimed his spot and my hand. “Hi.”
“Speaking of calls, I called you from the dance.”
“I know. I called back, and Hillary answered from the ambulance. I drove here like a maniac.”
“I thought you didn’t pick up because you were mad.”
“No. That’s not why.” Gyver took my hand in both of his. I could see a flush creeping up his cheeks.
“Why?”
“It’s embarrassing. You know, this is what I always thought your hospital room should look like.” He pointed to the cards, flowers, and stuffed animals, sent by classmates and crowding all flat surfaces.
“Nice try, but I’m not that easily distracted. You, embarrassed? This I’ve got to hear.” I tugged on his hand.
“I didn’t answer because I was out in my backyard.”
“Why? It was freezing.”
When he didn’t continue, I snuggled closer and pouted. He kissed me on the nose. “Your necklace. You told me you’d lost it, and the jewelers were closed.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t lose my necklace in your backyard.”
Gyver studied our entwined hands. “I was looking for four-leaf clovers.”
“What? You’re not serious. In the dark?”
“I had a flashlight.”
I tried not to laugh and failed. “Why? Why in the world?”
“I thought maybe if I found one for you, you’d cheer up and feel less hopeless.”
“Gyver Russo! I believe someone’s always telling me I put too much faith in superstitions. And”—I deepened my voice in a poor imitation—“I make my own luck.”
His grin was full of mischief. “I can’t wait to get lucky with you.”
“Gyver.” I groaned. “You’re ridiculous!”
He started to retort, but I cut him off with a finger to his lips. A finger I began to trace around his mouth with a feather-light touch.
His puzzled look turned to concern as I began to lean in. He put a hand on either side of my face and warred with impulses to pull me close and push me away. “Mi, we can’t.”
I smiled and leaned still closer, fitting myself into the space between his arms, the space that felt like sanctuary. These were the words I’d been waiting all day to tell him. “I asked. My counts are good.”
This time there were no ice cream accidents and no fevers. If I had been attached to a heart monitor, I’m sure it would have set off every racing-pulse alarm.
But I wasn’t.
There was nothing to interrupt, nothing to interfere, and nothing between Gyver’s and my lips but a few inches of empty air.
And then there wasn’t even that.
There were Gyver’s hands sliding up my neck, his thumb caressing my jawline and his fingers sliding around the back of my head, tilting up my chin and lowering his mouth to mine.
We didn’t bump noses, or grind teeth, or mash lips. There wasn’t that period of awkward learning—because it was Gyver and it was me, and there was no one who knew me better, no one I’d ever know so well.
It was sweet and fierce and many things my mind and body couldn’t name. The type of kissing that eclipsed all prior kisses—the type of kissing I hoped to be doing for a very long time.
And when Gyver and I finally pulled apart, his face was flushed and we were both the best kind of breathless. I knew exactly how he felt and what he was thinking: more. We both leaned in for a second kiss at the same instant—and this, I decided, was the very best sign.