Page 23 of The Map of Nova and Dev

He slides off the bed, clearing his throat. “Do you want to watch a movie? I need to make a call, then I’m going to head to the vending machines or front desk shop and see if I can find some microwave popcorn.”

“Sure. What’s a movie without popcorn?” I chance a glance in his direction. He nods once before bolting out the door.

Way to make things awkward, Nova.

Quick to slip into my pajama pants and tank top, I run the blow dryer over my hair for a few minutes with a smile. Notifications blew up my phone while I showered, so I scroll through the comments on today’s photo dump, leaving the blow dryer on to cover my dallying. I posted a handful of scenery shots and one very perfect up-close image of a smiling Devin, the sunlight hitting his eyes and making the lighter flecks resemble liquid gold. There are a lot of heart eyes from my girlfriends, the typical “miss you” posts from others, and many well-wishers. Aunt Amber posted a Finnish flag and a winky face—her way of reminding me she found Uncle Olle while trying to find herself on her backpacking trip through Europe when she wasn’t much older than me. I switch off the hairdryer and respond to her comment with x’s and o’s, and ‘like’ some of the others. I ignore Julia’s, “That doesn’t look like a food trip,” comment and shove down the mixed emotions bubbling up at another message from Logan. He slid into my DM’s yesterday with a, “Please, can we talk?” I don’t know what he thinks there is to talk about. We’re over. He slept with my best friend. Even if our relationship was some true love story, which it wasn’t, we’re spending the next four years on opposite coasts. Unsure of how to respond tonight, I close the app.

Devin is back, snapping the door shut on the microwave when I exit the bathroom. He shakes the bag of popcorn before pulling it open, and our room fills with savory, buttery goodness.

I groan. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to stop and pick up some Garrett’s Popcorn when we were in Chicago.”

He looks at the generic bag in his hand, then lifts his gaze to mine. “What’s that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the basic stuff, but Garrett’s has this caramel and cheese popcorn. It’s my favorite. We usually grab a few tins when we’re in town.”

“Sorry, I can only offer butter.” He shrugs with a lopsided grin. “But, the hotel has Netflix, so I logged in and glanced through. Have you seenThe Adam Projectyet?” He motions to the screen where he has the movie info pulled up.

I crawl onto my bed, grabbing the pillows and situating them. “Sci-Fi Adventure?” I look over my shoulder, intending to refuse, only to catch him averting his gaze from my backside like a thief hiding his tracks. Heart racing, I drop from all fours and flip to my side.

“It’s, uh, supposed to be fun.” He clears his throat. “I figured we could use light. Plus, it’s Ryan Reynolds. According to Willa, anything with him in it is worth watching. Well, exceptGreen Lantern.”

Willa’s not wrong. I could go for some out-of-reach eye candy to take my mind off the guy sharing my room.

“Well, if it’s got Ryan Reynolds, then, by all means, we should watch it. Heisthe best Ryan.”

Devin scoffs and settles on his bed. “This is a family movie, so don’t get your hopes up. I doubt he takes his shirt off.”

I hurl a pillow at his head and frown when he catches it. “No shirtless scenes? Then what’s the point?”

“Ha. Ha.” He shoves my pillow behind his head. “I tried looking for a makeshift bowl for the popcorn but came up empty.”

Blinking the mouthwatering view of Devin Hawthorne sprawled on a bed with a bag of popcorn on his lap from my mind. “It’s fine. I don’t need any.”

Devin scowls. “We can share out of the bag.” He scoots over and pats the mattress. “I don’t bite, Spitfire.”

“That’s up for debate,” I mutter, denying the devil on my shoulder who wouldn’t mind it if he did and switching off the bedside lamp as I join him.

Propped on a pile of pillows and sharing popcorn from the same bag while watching a movie on a double bed is the type of cozy Devin and I should avoid. The action-adventure aspect of our film helps break the tension, but each time I reach for a handful of popcorn, my body leans, brushing my thigh against his, keeping me hyper-focused on his proximity. The whiffs of peppermint from his tea tree shampoo add to the torture.

The popcorn is long gone, and I’ve shifted to lie on my side in a fetal position, my head inches from using his shoulder as a cushion when an emotional scene has me sniffling. I may be jaded after Logan, but I’m still a romantic fool.

Devin’s hand settles on my knee. “Do you think that’s true?” I tip my head and meet his furrowed gaze. “I mean, outside of the whole time travel thing being impossible. Do you think they’ll find each other?”

I chew on my lip as the tempo picks up on screen and bite back a laugh. “You’re asking a girl whose entire family is made up of seemingly impossible love stories if she believes in fate?”

“I guess that’s my answer.” He scooches deeper into the pillows, his fingers wrapping behind my knee as he settles his attention on the movie. Something about the move is natural, like this isn’t the first time we’ve snuggled, his hand forming to curve of my leg on instinct.

My cheek finds its way to his shoulder as he keeps his hold through the remainder of the film.

“Why do you smell like food all the time?” he randomly asks during a quiet moment on the screen. My confidence sinks before he clarifies, “Not food, but candy and baked goods. You smell so damn delicious and different every day. Or am I crazy?”

I chuckle. “You can thank Cora and Crew, my thirteen and nine-year-old siblings, and my parents. They make us buy each other presents on holidays, and Cora and Crew think buying out Bath & Body Works is the way to my heart. So I wear things like Warm Vanilla Sugar and Enchanted Candied Potion because it’s from them.” Arching my head on his shoulder, I try to find his eyes. “Why, is it bad?”

His chin drops and his gaze lowers, forcing me to hold my breath as he smiles. “It’s the opposite of bad, Nova. Don’t ever stop. It’s definitely a turn-on.”

“You smell like cinnamon because of your gum. Don’t stop chewing it.” Snuggling closer to hide my reddening cheeks, I smile.

As we watch the movie, my mind occasionally wanders, trying to recall similar moments with Logan, or any boy, in my past. It’s been an idyllic night—cozy, familiar, perfect—until Devin’s muscles go rigid at the ending scenes revolving around Adam’s father. I roll into his side on instinct, the breadth of his emotions dawning on me.

---