Marry my best friend
Maybe it was that he looked at me differently tonight — like he was seeing me, not the act.
Then, just as I was reaching for another fry, the DJ switched the song.
And the opening chords hit me like a memory.
“Is that…?” I froze.
Luciano’s head tilted, and a grin tugged at his lips. “‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ Our prom song.”
Oh, God. It was.
The same slow, dreamy Elvis cover that played the night we were crowned Prom King and Queen — mostly because everyone had shipped us since freshman year. We’d danced under the gym lights, pretending to be cool about it while both of us laughed the whole way through.