The Love at First Sight Box Set

every time I was around her. Yet every kiss, every touch felt wrong on a soul-deep level. Not because I believed in some unattainable chaste ideal, or that experiencing other people before we found our person was wrong, but because I'd already found her.
Whatever my own soul was comprised of, that intangible thing residing in my body that made me me met its match the day I met Jocelyn. And trying to make someone else fit was one massive exercise in frustration.
"Stupid Buchanan curse," I whispered.
There would never be a day when I didn't wish Jocelyn would just … wake up and realize it. That one day, she'd see me differently. That she could look back on the day we met and see that I'd never wavered because the way I loved her was as constant and unyielding as the Earth rotating around the sun. Something that couldn't be stopped or prevented.
In her sleep, she shifted on her back, but her long legs remained where they were.
And I watched as Joss slowly started to wake. When she opened her eyes—the morning glories climbing up the east side of my parents' porch blue—she didn't notice me right away.
"Good morning, sunshine," I said quietly.
She smiled, stretching her arms over her head with a satisfied groan.
I wanted to see her do that every fucking morning for the rest of my life.
"That was an epic nap," she said in an adorably groggy voice. Her eyes fell shut again, her mouth curving up in a tiny smile.
"Yeah?"
Joss hummed, eyes still closed. "Can you move my legs for me? Stretch them out?"
I swallowed. My fingers curled into my palms. "Sure."
Even though I didn't need to move with such careful, slow movements—and even though she could, and probably should, do it herself—I slid my hands up the back of her calves until they were hooked under her bent knees. Turning her legs so that they were straight, I brought her feet up against my thigh. People underestimated how tall she was. I didn't get to stand next to her often, but when I did, it was so hard not to wrap my arms around her and see where her face hit.
"Where's Nero?" I asked, pulling my hands back once her legs were situated.
"Left him at home. Didn't want to scare off the new PT."
Grinning, I stood to grab a bottle of water out the fridge. "Need anything?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"How did it go? Was it a Denise 2.0, or did we actually manage an upgrade?"
Joss hated when I went to PT with her. Probably because with my degree, I was perfectly capable of helping her myself, but she wanted someone who wasn't so emotionally invested.
The irony of how little she knew of my emotional investment was not lost on me.
After draining half the water in two large swallows, I realized she hadn't answered me. When I turned, she was pulling herself up to sitting. I smiled at the absolute mess that was her hair. Half was still up in a bun while half fell around her face and shoulders.
"I like what you've got going on there," I said, lifting my chin at her head.
She patted her hair and groaned. As she went about fixing it, she sighed. "Yeah, figures that I look like absolute shit today."
"You don't look like shit," I said instantly. Joss raised an eyebrow at my tone but didn't comment. "Besides, since when do you care how you look at PT?"
Hair fixed and somewhat tamed, Joss looked me square in the eye, and blurted, "I'm having date feelings, and it's weird, and I don't know what to do about it."
I froze with the bottle halfway to my mouth. Where it was buried in my chest, protected by skin and muscles and bones, my heart turned over in an unhealthy, chugging motion. Biological impossibility aside, that was what it felt like.
Words sprang up on my tongue, and I breathed through them, taking my time to set down the water bottle before I joined her on the couch again.
Was this … was this it?
Her face didn't look dewy or glowy or suddenly transformed with I'm in love with my best friend feelings.
"Date feelings are good," I said carefully. Her eyes were watching my face so intently that I felt sweat break out on the back of my neck. "I've always enjoyed them."
The second she rolled her eyes, I knew I screwed up.
"That's not what I meant," I stammered.
Joss flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. "Of course you enjoy them. All you have to do is breathe, and every single woman under the age of eighty-two in Green Valley looks at you like you just cured cancer."
I breathed out a laugh, spearing a hand through my hair. The irony, the irony, the mind-bending irony of what she just said. Yeah, except for the one single woman who I wanted to look at me like that.
I felt like Joss just tossed me ass first into a minefield. Blindfolded.
One wrong move and kablooey.
In her lap, she was wringing her fingers together, one of her nervous tells. I sighed, leaning forward to lay my hand on hers. Finally, she dropped her chin and looked at me again. She looked miserable.
Okay. Time to be what she needs, I told myself. Not time to be what I want.
I got up from the couch and went to the cupboard next to the fridge. On the middle shelf, I always kept an emergency stash of her favorite snacks. She smiled when I tossed the bag of Twizzlers onto her lap.
Once I was back on the couch, my legs stretched out next to hers so that we were facing each other, I jerked my chin. "Talk to me."
I could do this. Joss pulled out a piece of licorice and chewed on the end, those beautiful eyes unfocused.
I could do this. For her.
"I've never had date feelings before," she said. "Until this week."
"Never?" I asked carefully.
She shook her head.
"And"—I swallowed—"and you are now?"
She nodded, her