He bakes me cookies and wipes away my tears and gives me the only man-made orgasms I’ve ever had.
He loves me.
And we’re dating.
And I’ve been an idiot.
I finish up my shower, dry off, braid my hair, throw on a night shirt and panties and head out into the living room. We need to talk about this.
But Caleb isn’t there. On instinct, I step into my room and see him sprawled out on the bed. I crawl in next to him and pull the covers over us.
My revelation can wait until after sunrise. In fact, I’m the one who’s a little late to the party. Caleb has had faith in us since we were teenagers. It took me longer than it should have to catch up, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.
* * *
The sun is shining,and I’m curled up on the couch again. Caleb is singing “Livin’ on a Prayer” while making French Toast.
I hear the turn of the key in the lock and remember that Nora went home Thursday night and was driving back this morning. She steps inside and to her credit, takes the scene in our apartment in stride. It’s not every day a six foot two guy is singing, shirtless, in the kitchen while making breakfast. Sadly.
“So, Lucy, is this the reason you’ve been in such a good mood the past few weeks?”
Caleb turns toward us and smiles. There’s a hint of shyness there, which is rare for him.
“It is. Caleb, this is Nora. And Nora, this is Caleb Whitman, my boyfriend.”
“Yourboyfriend?” he asks, his eyebrows escaping into his hairline.
Oh, shit.
“Well—”
“Oh, no, Lucy Olivia. No takebacks. You said it. You called me the b-word. I have a witness!”
“We should talk about this. Have a real conversation, obviously, but—”
“But what?” His grin is broad as he cages me against the wall and the counter. “Is this where you admit you’ve been madly in love with me since we were thirteen? Holy shit, do you have our names scrawled together in perfect cursive in a purple notebook in that perfectly organized desk of yours?”
But before I can stammer out a response, he’s wrapped his arms around me and is kissing me soundly.
“That’s the nicest damn thing you’ve ever said to me, Lucy Amelia.”
Nora looks positively gleeful. “Oh, crap. I forgot. I have some place I need to be all weekend.”
“Oh, no, Nora. You don’t have to—”
“Yeah, I do. Have fun, you two,” she calls, scooping up her bag and leaving just the way she came.
Whit presses a kiss to my forehead and then returns to the stove to keep an eye on things. “She seems really nice,” he says, flipping the French Toast.
“She is,” I agree. “You know, it’s your fault we’re friends.”
“You and Nora, the roommate you willingly chose?”
“Yep,” I say, walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “When I told you we barely spoke, you looked at me like I was nuts. So when I got back here after Christmas, I started making an effort. Did you know that if you smile at people and treat them with basic courtesy it does wonders for your personal relationships?”
He smiles broadly. “In fact, I did know that. And as delighted as I am that you made a friend, there are more important topics to discuss. The first is, of course, that said friend has just left for the weekend, which means we’ve got the place all to ourselves. And since I’m your boyfriend…”
Caleb’s dimples are out in full force and I swear to God, his eyes are twinkling.
