Page 80 of The Taste of Deceit

“That’s probably for the best.”

She drops into one of the recliners, laughing as the opening music for “Party in the USA” fills the room. By the time midnight rolls around, our voices are shot, we’ve gone through more wine than either of us planned, and the theater room looks like we actually live there.

Neither of us is ready to call it a night.

A couple of hours later, we wander upstairs with half a bottle of tequila still sitting on Katie’s nightstand and a pile of empty snack wrappers scattered across the floor. We change into pajamas, brush our teeth side by side while arguing over whose turn it is to pick the movie tomorrow, and finally crawl into her bed.

Katie reaches over and switches off the lamp. The room falls quiet.

Moonlight spills through the sheer curtains, casting pale strips of light across the ceiling. We lie on our backs staring up at it, neither of us making any move to sleep. Sleepovers have never really been about sleeping.

“They’re my favorite part,” Katie says after a while.

“What?”

“This.”

I turn my head toward her even though I can barely make out her face in the dark.

“Lying here talking.”

I smile.

“Mine too.”

Another comfortable silence settles between us. Neither of us is anywhere close to falling asleep.

“Michael told me something,” Katie says quietly.

“What?”

“He told me he wants to marry me.”

My chest tightens. Of course he did.

Luca told me weeks ago that Michael had already bought the ring. He’s had it since July. I remember the smile on Luca’s face when he told me, genuinely excited for his cousin. I’d smiled too, swallowing another secret I wasn’t allowed to share.

I hate how many of those there are now.

“What did you say?”

A quiet laugh escapes her.

“I told him I wanted to marry him too.”

I close my eyes for the briefest second.

“That must’ve made him happy.”

“I’ve never seen him smile like that.”

Katie rolls onto her side, her head propped up on one hand.

“I know he hasn’t actually asked yet, but...” She laughs softly. “I think about it all the time.”

She smiles into the darkness.

“What our wedding would look like. Where we’d live. What our kids would look like.”