I could list song after song after song that evokes this feeling: of sun-dappled bedsheets and lay-by-your-side-all-day intimacy, so close you can see their body rise and fall with each breath, bright guitar strums and falsettos opening the curtains and spinning a cocoon of morning warmth. Only weekends makes it seem both blissful and….restless. You can almost hear H.E.R. doing runs over the opening chord progression, imagine some lines (“‘Cause you were my left / And you were my right”) being written for an alternate take of “Best Part,” defined by the same endearing corniness that could make anyone smile. The rest of “weekends” though — its too-good-to-be-true anxiety (“‘Cause it’s too perfect to me”) and snugly drowsy bassline, how the entire first verse seems sung with the pleading-eye emoji — is Hojean on his own, remorseful (“But in that moment I fucked up”) and romancing (“Sugar, can you just give me just one last try?”). Which is all the better. Love rarely comes easy, but Hojean makes the string section that plays as the camera pans towards the sun and end credits feel deserved (take notes, Ariana): “But you are so much better than my dreams / I swear it’s true, true.”