Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

I swallow and set my casserole on top of the dish containing the lemon butter noodles and grilled chicken.

Last night, Maddox and I sat on a video call for an hour while he grilled chicken breasts and made a batch of the same lemony pasta he cooked for our movie date.

It’s become our evening norm.

My family tends to eat earlier than he does, so after I’m done with dinner, Maddox calls, and I lounge while he cooks and eats his dinner.

It’s… God, it’s everything.

It’s the phone calls we missed.

It’s the evening version of the long-distance relationship we weren’t allowed to try.

It’s a way to spend time together, to talk, without being interrupted by the overwhelming need to touch each other.

It’s torture. And it’s exactly what I need.

“Forget your food from last week?” Brandon asks from next to me.

I blink and shut the fridge door. “Yeah. Threw me off for a second,” I joke.

Brandon looks at the fridge, then back to me, like he’s sensing the lie.

I move around him to the mug cupboard and take my time selecting one.

My call with Maddox last night made me forget all about my promise to check on my job applications. Which was foolish, because I need to get out of here so we can properly date each other.

I’m the last one you’ll ever have.

Maddox knows all the right things to say.

And I could cry just from picturing him with Chelsea this past weekend, in their glasses, shit talking some kid’s science fair project the whole ride home from the game.

It was literally the second time they met, and they acted like—

I pull down the handmade yellow mug Maddox used the time he made me coffee.

They acted like family.

If anyone can break the curse, it’s gotta be him.

“You’re acting weird.” Brandon is back at my side. “Are you alright?”

Oh my god, go away.

“Just haven’t had my coffee yet,” I lie, since I had a cup at home this morning.

He hums and leans against the counter. The opposite of leaving.

“Do anything fun this weekend?” Brandon asks.

“Yeah, I went to a baseball game.”

“The Kids game?”

I nod.

“Didn’t we lose?” he asks, like that makes the difference on enjoying a game or not.