I put my falling star on a leash,

And I tied her to a post on the mezzanine.

She could easily burn through the rope,

But I think she likes the way it feels around her throat.

I ran my fingers over the words scrawled in blue ink on Hans’s forearm as we cuddled in the leather recliner on the patio, smoking our first cigarette of the day. A few tufts of morning fog lingered on the lake. A few popped floaties lay in repose on the dock. And more than a few beer cans and red plastic cups dotted the landscape, glinting like cheerful Easter eggs waiting to be found.

“Are you going to turn this into a song for Phantom Limb?” I asked, resting my cheek on his bare shoulder and pulling my bony knees up inside the black Tool T-shirt I’d found on his floor.

“Maybe. If I can convince Trip to do a ballad.”

“It’s a ballad?” I smiled.

“Of course it’s a ballad.” Hans kissed me on the top of my head. “I’ve never written one before, but whenever I’m with you, that’s just what comes out.”

“Not even for Beth?” I wanted to slap my hand over my own mouth.

Oh fuck. I said it. I said the B word.

“Beth?” Hans’s voice dropped an octave.

I nodded, trying to seem nonchalant as I took my next drag with trembling fingers.

Hans sighed and absentmindedly began twisting a lock of my super-short hair with his free hand as he gazed over at me. “How do you know about her?”

“Victoria,” I admitted, forcing myself to make eye contact. “The morning after the party, while you were in the shower, she told me you had a girlfriend. She said her name was Beth and that you’d been with for, like, four years.” I wanted to pull my head inside of Hans’s T-shirt and die from just talking about her.

“Are you serious?”

I nodded, then quickly returned my attention to the lake as my cheeks began to tingle.

“Oh my God.” He laughed, pulling me closer. “I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea you thought that. No, we broke up months ago, before graduation. I guess I just never told Victoria. We kind of lost touch for a while after she transferred schools.”

Every muscle in my body relaxed in relief, my fears fleeing on a sigh. The question I’d been so afraid to ask had finally been answered. And it was the best answer I could have possibly hoped for.

But they were together for years, BB. What if you’re just a rebound?

Shut up! Why do you always have to piss on my parade?

“It must have been pretty serious if you guys were together for that long,” I said, trying to appease my inner pessimist.

Hans shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette, buying himself a few more seconds before he had to admit whatever truth was coming next. I braced myself, thankful that I was already in the fetal position. My heart felt a little more protected behind my knobby knees and beneath the cover of Hans’s faded black T-shirt.

He exhaled the smoke on a sigh. “We were friends for a long time, but we only dated for about two years, not four. Honestly, I think we should have just stayed friends, but we were both too damn nice to admit it.”

Ugh. It was so hard to hear him talk about someone else even if what he was saying was supposed to make me feel better.

“BB, look at me.”

I swallowed and turned my head toward Hans. The sincerity shining out of his black-rimmed blue eyes stole my breath.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before. This”—he gestured between us with the two fingers pinching his cigarette—“is serious. I didn’t even know this existed.”

“Me either.” I smiled, the butterflies in my belly doing tiny little backflips. “I feel like I just woke up from a bad dream.”

“I feel like I’m still dreaming,” Hans said, leaning down to press his smiling lips against mine.

His sweet, lingering kiss made me forget all about What’s Her Name. Hell, it made me forget my own name. I wasn’t brought back into the present until my fingers started to burn from the approaching ember on the end of my forgotten cigarette.

As I laughed and dropped the butt into an empty beer bottle on a nearby table, something occurred to me. Something that made my blood run cold. “Hans?” I asked, turning to face him again. “Why did you think I had a boyfriend? Did Victoria tell you that?”

Because that bitch knows I am single.

Hans shrugged. “Sort of. I mean, she told me about you and the accident, and I remembered her saying that your boyfriend was driving. So when I asked you if the guy who’d been driving was okay, I kinda hoped you’d tell me that he, like, died or something”—Hans laughed—“but you didn’t. You gave me some kind of short answer, like you didn’t want to talk about it. So, I guess I just assumed that you guys were still together.”

“Oh my God.” My hands flew to my mouth. “Then Knight showed up at the Masquerade the next weekend! You must have thought that was him.”

“Dude.” Hans leaned forward and dropped his cigarette butt into the beer bottle on the table too. “I felt like the biggest piece of shit ever. Some guy was out there, looking for his girlfriend, and I’d had my hands all over her the whole night.” Hans shook his head. “I should have just asked you if you had a boyfriend, but I didn’t know what I’d do if you said yes. I had to keep seeing you.”

“Oh my God, I felt the same way!”

Hans chuckled. “I think we’re kind of the same person.”

“Except you’re athletic.” I smirked. “I saw all those soccer trophies on your shelf, Hansel.”

Hans snorted. “First of all, nobody calls me that but my mom. And second, I was athletic. I tore my ACL and MCL in tenth grade, and that was that.” He lifted his left leg and gestured to four small incision scars on and around his knee.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me…until I met you,” he added, snuggling his face into my neck and giving me a scruffy kiss on the clavicle. I purred and rubbed my cheek against his soft, wild hair. “While I was stuck in my room, recovering from surgery, I learned how to play all my favorite songs on the guitar. Then I moved on to the bass. Then drums. By the time I started eleventh grade, I could play every song on The Downward Spiral album on three different instruments. I healed up enough that I could have gone back to playing soccer, but the guys needed a bass player, so I joined Phantom Limb instead.”

“Phantom Limb!” Trip called out in his rock-star voice, stumbling down the stairs from the first-floor deck.

Hans and I turned our heads and watched his descent. Trip was shirtless, sunburned as fuck, and wearing a green silk kimono.

“Dude, why are you wearing my mom’s robe?” Hans laughed.

“First of all”—Trip held a hand up in Hans’s face as he breezed behind the armchair and grabbed a piece of cold pizza out of the box on the bar—“that’s sexist. Second”—he took a bite and continued with his mouth full—“shit got crazy after y’all left last night.”

“Oh shit. You didn’t let Victoria and Steven pull you in for a threesome, did you?” Hans asked, only partly joking.

“Let’s just say, I found out that I look damn good in pigtails.”

I squealed. Hans groaned. And Trip beamed with a mouthful of pizza.

“Pssh. I’m just kiddin’. I wouldn’t let Steven touch my ding-a-ling with Hans’s hand.” Trip’s deep brown eyes lit up. “Hey! Speaking of Hans and ding-a-lings, somebody here got the long dong last night! Am I right?” Trip pointed at me with his half-eaten pizza. “Girl, I bet you’re walkin’ with a limp today, huh?”

I laughed as Hans glared at Trip, trying to look mad. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” I said, giving Hans a teasing look before returning my attention to Trip. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’m gonna make it. I think he might have ruptured my spleen.”

Trip shrugged and took another bite. “The dong’ll do that to ya. But you’ll be all right; I’m pretty sure you got two spleens. And, hey, if you don’t, LDH here’ll probably give you his. He’s sweet like that.”

I glanced back at Hans, who gave me that shy little smile I loved. The one where the corners of his mouth barely turned upward, but his dimples and sparkling eyes gave him away.

“You know,” I said just loud enough for him to hear, “I kinda have a thing for guys with tattoos who would die for me.”

Hans’s shy smile split into a grin as his eyes dropped to my lips. “Well, you found one,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “You already have my heart; why not take my spleen to match?”

As I swooned and kissed my big, tattooed teddy bear, Trip exclaimed, “Dude, that’s some good shit!” Drumming on the bar with his pizza crust, he sang, “You already have my heart, bitch. Why not take my spleen to maaaaaatch?”

Hans and I cracked up. I loved the sound of his laughter. The feel of his hard, warm body all around my small, cold one. His scruffy five o’clock shadow on my soft cheek. I loved the way he literally wore his heart on his sleeve, scrawling lyrics in ballpoint pen on the tender underbelly of his arm. I loved that Hans was strong enough and brave enough and confident enough to be vulnerable. To show me exactly how he felt without fear of ridicule or rejection. He might not have been as tough or aggressive as Knight and Harley, but to me, Hans was by far more fearless.

But mostly, I loved the way he loved me. The moment Hans appeared in my life, I felt as if a switch had been flipped. I suddenly had access to colors I’d never seen before. Feelings I’d never felt. Memories I’d lost a lifetime ago. And a level of connection I didn’t know was possible. I’d found my soul mate.

Now all I had to do was tell my parents.