He’s not the one who got away—he’s the one I never had the guts to pursue.

Asher sees beyond my neurodivergence to treat me like any other person—he’s been my friend for twenty years because of it, not in spite of it. So what if my teenage crush on the stocky boy next door has only grown as we have? After he nearly kissed me at Thanksgiving… yeah, it’s back, there’s no denying.

The problem? Every time I think I can finally tell him how I feel, that little voice inside my head convinces me I’m reading the situation wrong—again.

There are eight nights of Chanukah, but I know I won’t get eight more chances to show Asher how much I truly love him. Can I overcome my insecurities before he writes this off as another missed connection?