If this was a movie, now would be the moment Dylan makes a move, dropping everything to pull me into an embrace.

I am unapologetic, imperfect, and awkward Anna Waite. Someone who names her car and gets stuck on the back of fire trucks.

“Anna, you are not a disaster. You’re a delight.”

Forget the punching bag. His face will do just fine.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you and ruin our friendship. So…I’ll stop.”

Calm settles around me. A sense of rightness fitting like connecting puzzle pieces that complete the picture.