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I’m trying. I really am, but after all these years, after the yearning and forbidden feelings, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Vinny’s standing in my apartment, and it's okay that he’s here.

I drop my hands and stare back at him. “Well, normal Emma likes food. Are you hungry? We can order in, or I can make something.”

“I think it would be fun to make something with you.”

“Okay.” I walk to the sink and wash my hands. Vinny comes too. “What about pasta?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Things happen in a rhythm now. Vinny puts an apron over my head, his fingers skimming my neck as he pulls my hair out from under the straps. He spins me around and ties the back. I do the same for him. We throw ingredients across the kitchen to each other. Our hips and shoulders bump as we move around the small space. I hold up a spoon with the sauce for him to taste. He grabs the spoon and gives me a turn.

It’s all very domestic and normal.

Like the first time in cooking class when we made sugar buns.

The awkwardness melts away. It’s just me and Vinny, the way we’ve always been. My feelings aren’t because I think he’s handsome or because he’s my first love.

We just fit.

Always have.

We sit at the table with two steaming plates of pasta in front of us.

“Mm.” Vinny nods after his first bite. “It’s good.”

“You can’t go wrong with ziti.”

“Well, it is your favorite.”

My eyes narrow.

“Isn’t it?” He stabs a noodle with his fork. “You always order it at Oregano’s, even when we all decide to split pizza. Then you only ever eat half so you can have leftovers the next day.”

I fight a silly grin. “Yes, ziti is my favorite, and I do like having leftovers. I can’t believe you picked up on that.”

“What haven’t I picked up on?”

“What do you mean?”

He takes another bite. “What have I missed over the years that I need to know about you?”

Besides the obvious, that I’m completely in love with him?

“Um, I don’t know. My life is pretty basic.”

“Then hit me with the basics.”

My brows lift. “The basics?”

“Yeah, I want to hear it all.”

Something light fills my chest at the thought of Vinny wanting to know me.

“Okay.” I think for a second until I say, “I don’t like my toothpaste. It tastes horrible.”

“Then why don’t you throw it out?”

“Because I paid ten dollars for it at my dental office. You know, some fancy cavity fighter, and now I’m stuck with it.”