For those who may not know, Kevin and I met in the most unexpected way. Nearly nine years ago, my grandfather was hospitalized at Barlow Hospital in Los Angeles. He needed a procedure that could only be done at a different hospital, so we had to coordinate a same-day transfer — there and back — to make it happen. That meant I had to be up by 4 a.m. to ensure everything was ready. I threw on sweats, tied my hair into a messy bun, and headed out, anxious, exhausted, and overwhelmed. The last thing I expected that day was to meet a cute boy — let alone someone who would become my best friend. After the procedure, my grandfather and I waited for the EMTs to bring him back to Barlow. I remember scanning the nursing station every time someone walked in, hoping it was our transport. Then I looked up — and locked eyes with Kevin. I immediately looked away. A few minutes later, he walked into our waiting area with a sly smile, tried to toss his gloves into the trash can, and missed. I remember thinking, Who is this guy? Silly, cocky… and hot. We didn’t talk much — just enough to get my grandfather settled back into the ambulance. I was drained and barely functioning, but I remember snippets of conversation. I also remember wondering, Is he actually interested in me? I looked like a mess: oversized sweats, messy bun, dark circles under my eyes. Definitely not my best moment. But somehow, talking to him felt easy. Not forced. Not awkward. Just peaceful and straightforward. Once we returned to Barlow and my grandfather was back in his room, Kevin handed me some paperwork to sign — or so he claimed. To this day, I’m not sure that was even necessary. But it gave him a reason to linger, and in that moment, he asked for my number. And I said yes. The rest is history.