I swear, she’s a menace. A beautiful, hilarious menace that I apparently can’t say no to.

It started with her insisting we go go-karting. “I want to see if I can beat a Formula 1 driver,” she announced confidently. I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my keys. “You? Beat me? Not a chance.” She just smirked. “Scared I’ll expose you?”

Fast-forward an hour later, and she’s on the grid next to me, wearing a helmet that looks way too big on her. She waves dramatically at the kids in the line behind us like she’s some sort of celebrity. “Focus,” I call across the track. She shouts back, “Don’t cry when I win!”

Obviously, I let her stay ahead for the first few laps. I mean, I couldn’t exactly crush her excitement right away. But then she started trash-talking me mid-race—literally turned her head and yelled, “Slowpoke!”—and I lost it. I overtook her instantly.

Afterwards, she stormed over, pulling off her helmet with the most exaggerated scowl. “You didn’t have to try that hard!” “You told me not to cry when you won,” I teased, ruffling her hair. She shoved me lightly. “I hate you.” “You love me,” I shot back automatically.

She froze for half a second, then smirked. “Keep dreaming, Norris.”

⸻

Later that evening, back at mine, we decided to play Mario Kart. Because apparently one race wasn’t enough humiliation for her. “Bet you can’t beat me here either,” she said, sticking her tongue out. I laughed. “This is literally my job.” “This is literally a video game,” she corrected.

Thirty minutes later, I’d lost three out of four races. Don’t ask me how—it’s like she had some sort of witch powers. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, jumping up and down every time she threw a red shell at me.

“You cheated,” I grumbled. “You just can’t handle a strong woman,” she teased, snatching my controller when I wasn’t looking.

I collapsed back on the sofa, covering my face with a pillow. “This is the worst day of my career.” She laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “Imagine explaining that in an interview. ‘Biggest loss of your life?’—‘Yeah, my girlfriend destroyed me in Mario Kart.’”

I peeked at her over the pillow. “Girlfriend, huh?” Her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. “Slip of the tongue.” My chest tightened in the best way possible, but I didn’t push it. Not yet.

⸻

By the time the night wound down, we were sharing what was left of the cereal straight out of the box. She kept tossing pieces at me like it was some kind of game. “You missed your mouth again,” she said, laughing as a piece bounced off my cheek. “You’re doing it on purpose,” I accused, trying not to grin.

And that’s when it happened. She aimed another piece, missed completely, and started giggling so hard she nearly fell over. Her laughter was contagious, wild, the kind that made my stomach hurt from smiling. I looked at her, messy hair, oversized hoodie, sitting cross-legged on my couch, and something inside me just… gave in.

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I laughed, shaking my head, and said:

“You’re so silly,” and, for the first time, “I love you.”