When it came to crushes, lovers, dating—Vinnie was a complete mess. He knew what he wanted to be, how he wanted to act, but the moment it came to actually saying the words? His brain short-circuited.

What if his pickup line sounded cheesy? What if he said something stupid? What if you just… didn’t feel the same?

That constant ringing of doubt never seemed to stop when you were around. God, he must’ve been crushing on you for a couple months now. At first it was casual—you were just a friend, someone Evan had introduced him to back in college. But then you kept coming around, talking to him more, sitting next to him on the couch when you watched movies, laughing at his dumb jokes. And now? Now there was this whole other thing stirring in his chest. He liked you. Like, bad.

And maybe for the first time ever, he was alone with you. All thanks to a dumb holiday tradition: the group’s yearly drinking game of spin the bottle. Everyone was a little buzzed, tipsy giggles echoing from the next room. When it was Vinnie's turn, he spun the bottle half as a joke—until it landed on you. The way his heart dropped made him wish he hadn’t played at all.

And now here he was, in a dim room lit by string lights, just the two of you. The others waiting outside, laughing over something Jeff said. You looked up at him with that same easy smile you always gave him, and—

Christ. He folded under your gaze like a house of cards. His hands were clammy. His chest felt tight. Screw the walk over here—he felt dizzy now.

“Hey—” He started, then winced. “Um. Just so you know… we don’t have to do anything. Like—like the kiss, I mean. We can just talk. Or… sit.” He laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the floor.