I’m just hoping he’ll recognize it.
I take my time organizing the stems in the nicest vase I have before centering them on the kitchen table. They add a nice pop of color to the muted beige of the rest of the room, and I can’t wait to see them every morning when I come into my kitchen.
The noise of Bo settling in has stopped by the time I make my way into the living room, and my face splits into a widegrin when I see him bundled up in a ratty old blanket. He’s cross-legged on my living room floor, looking so much like the teenager he was when I left town. His shoulders are broader, his hair more sun-streaked, but he’s still the same Bo.
“Blast from the past,” he says, lifting one of the plates with a grin.
I chuckle as I make my way over, proud of myself for finding them on such short notice. The plate in front of him is in the shape of a cartoon frog, and the other one is decked out with the face of a cartoon cheetah.
“I had to order new ones. Your mom said the ones from when we were younger are in storage.”
A pizza from one of the local shops sits, steaming, on the coffee table, along with a couple cans of diet soda. I don’t drink much soda these days, but it’s important to set the mood properly.
Even the blanket around Bo’s shoulders was chosen very specifically for tonight. I had to borrow it from Oakley’s bedroom.
Bo takes everything with an easygoing grin as I fold myself down onto the floor beside him. I hope he remembers, because otherwise, I’m going to look either ridiculous or just flat out weird.
“Are we going to watch Silence of the Lambs?”
Guess I didn’t need to worry about him not remembering, then. I bite back a sigh of relief.
“We sure are,” I say, turning the TV on.
It would’ve been reasonable for him not to remember, really. It was just another night, and we weren’t even really friends back then. We were both just waiting on Oakley to get home, and wound up hanging out for a few hours. I always think of that night as the night we became friends, but I figured it wouldn’t hold much significance for him.
Maybe everyone’s comments about waiting for us to get together have a little more substance to them than I thought.
“Are you giving me a chance to make up for not kissing you when I was teenager even though I wanted to?” he teases, bumping our shoulders together.
I blush as he takes a bite of his pizza, grinning at me around the cheese and sauce.
“I’m recreating the night I fell in love with you, but if you want to kiss me, feel free.” I say it nonchalantly, acting much more certain of myself than I feel. My heart pounds in my chest as I crack open my soda can. I expect Bo to laugh it off, or maybe to kiss my cheek and say something sweet. Instead, he chokes so violently on a bite of pizza that I have to pound on his back for fear of him dying on my living room floor.
He sucks in a gasp as soon as he clears his airway, reaching for his soda. I watch, worried, as he gulps down half the can and pounds his chest with the flat of his palm before looking back up at me.
“Sorry.” He laughs, shaking his head and setting his soda back down. “Didn’t expect you to say it so…” He waves his hands around. “Just put it out there, y’know? I was trying to find the right time to say it.”
A blush heats my face, and I stare at him, slack jawed.
“I—” I stop, scratch over the back of my neck, laugh nervously. “I mean, feel free.”
This isn’t how it’s going to go, is it? I had a whole romantic speech planned, but I just blurted it out within five minutes of him being here.
And it’s not like I expected him to say itback, at least not immediately.
“Nah, now you’re expecting it,” he says, that teasing note back in his voice. “I have to surprise you. Telling someone you love them and proposing are both required to be surprises.”
Proposing?
Well, now I’m really shocked silent. He’s not planning on proposing, is he? What about…everything?
“Maybe it’s a little presumptuous, but I don’t think I can focus on the movie right now,” Bo says, derailing my thoughts. “I’m much too hungry.”
I almost say something ridiculous about the pizza being right in front of us, but Bo unfolds himself from the floor before I can open my mouth. He pulls me up onto my own feet before lifting me straight off them and into his arms like a princess.
Bo takes my mouth in a ravenous kiss, already heading down the hallway as he kisses me senseless. All I can think about is the strength of his arms as he carries me effortlessly and the pure desire rolling off of him.
“What about dinner?” I ask, giggling in his arms.
