"Simple," I mused, before leaning in to kiss her neck again, behind her ear until her eyes closed. My lips trailed down to her shoulder and I slid away her sweater, revealing her skin for my mouth. I swept over her collarbone with feather-light kisses. Against her throat I asked, with my hand pressed against her stomach, "Any butterflies in there yet?"

She shook her head. "More like these monster fish my Granddad used to curse when he went catfish'n-they'd leap out of the water and smack you right in the face."

I cradled her cheeks. "I can't kiss you twenty minutes before I need to take you home because once I start kissing you I'm not gonna want to stop any time soon. I practically wrote an entire differential about kissing you. Please understand my dilemma. There is nothing simple about kissing you, Topolina."

She fell against me and buried tired-laughter against my shoulder. I held her to my chest, warmed her back with my hands, circling across her sweater. Any attempt to ignore her bones against my palms was futile. She was withering away . . . and I had no idea how to stop it from happening.

"You're undoubtedly my favorite," she said small. "Mio Stella."

I smiled against her shoulder. "Only women are stars, Topolina."

"Then next time I'll tell you in English."

"No," I continued, "Even in English. You're the star. Trust me in this knowledge."

"Then what are you?" She asked.

"The man looking up at the star in amazement as she hangs high."

"You see," she said, hugging her arms tighter around my shoulders. "You're my favorite."

And to me, that was grander than any "I love you" she could have returned.

________________________________.

*You're the only Heaven I believe in, that I've ever felt.

*I'm in love with you

* My star

ANGELS SING HALLELUJAH.

When I turned eighteen, my father gave me a savings account that was a few cents shy of a million dollars. He never told me what to do with the money (small exception: become a life guard) and I always assumed it was for med school, but when tuition was due, he had a check ready. I concluded it was a lure. He wanted me to run away from my plans of becoming a doctor-going down the same path he found himself hating-but the money never swayed my choice.

I liked anomalies and puzzles-sure-but there was something else that I couldn't explain about why I wanted to become a doctor. Something a bit like that invisible cord Everly Anne had tied around my ribcage.

What I didn't know was that fate had stuck a dart between my childhood and my adulthood. The paper I was handed at eighteen meant very little, unless, I looked at the money like it was a stack of coins destined for a wishing well. By age twenty-four, I hadn't yet the eyes or dreams to understand the importance of this rule yet.

Tatum stared at me as we split a brownie at Noelle's cafe. "Georgia? But why?"

"Everly had a grandpa there. Whenever she talks about him, or Georgia, she looks happy. I could apply for residency at a good hospital in Atlanta. What's that look for? You don't think I could handle southern style livin'?"

She laughed around licking fudge from her fingers. "One does not simply move from New York, Callum."

"I would fuckin' miss New York," I groaned. "You've got me there, Tot."

She fell back in her seat. "And you'll resent her, and your great love affair will ..." she whistled our love-life plummeting toward earth. Then caused an explosion with her hands.

"I can't resent her if it's my idea."

Tatum pushed the rest of the brownie toward me. "What if she gets back home and decides she likes them boys with big ole muddin' trucks and dip-stuffed cheeks. What if she wants to have bon fires and moonlit kisses by the creek, and you're just this high-brow doctor who aint never home to scold them chilrens and go to church on Sundays?" She sat forward. "Man I should write that down, it sounds like a great country song in the making."

"You're right, Tot. Everyone who lives in Georgia dips, has a monster truck, and canoodles in a creek. How on earth has Georgia survived with such simpletons running that state!"

"I'm just joking, Callum. Atlanta is just as good of a place to hate being a doctor as New York."

"You know I hate that word." I crumpled the pastry-paper as I shoved the last bite of brownie in my mouth. "It's only an idea anyhow. Truth be told, I'm not even supposed to be dating Everly much less moving her to another state."

"I thought she looked a bit young."

I tossed the paper at her wise-ass grin. "She's twenty. Fuck off, Tater."

"So why are you barred?" she laughed.

"Well for starters, you know Timothy is both my attending and her father."

"And for the second course?" she encouraged.

I debated for a moment, but relinquished. "She has CIPA."