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Not to mention, figure out what exactly I was going to do with it once it was truly finished.
“Still, I'm proud of you,” he said.
I smiled toward the ceiling. “You're sweet.”
“And you have a birthday coming up.”
With an exaggerated groan, I rolled my eyes and fought against my grin. “Uh-huh …”
“And if I remember correctly, you said you'd be open to me planning something once you were finished with your book,” he slyly mentioned. “Am I right?”
“I do recall saying something along those lines, yes,” I mumbled, feigning irritation.
About a week ago, Peter had asked if he could take me, my parents, and some friends out to dinner for my birthday. The thought was lovely and certainly appreciated, but at the time, I couldn't think beyond the story screaming in my head. I had told him we could talk about it when the draft was complete, and he hadn't wasted a second.
Sometimes, with how caring and thoughtful he was, I didn't think I deserved him.
Little did I know then, it wouldn't be long before I knew I didn't deserve him at all.
“So, can I?”
“If you really, really want to.”
“I really, really do,” Peter replied, laughter lingering in his tone. “I wanna make a reservation at Vincenzo’s. How many people do you want to invite? Your parents, Connor, Tarryn … right?”
There was no fighting my smile by that point as I nodded. “That sounds good.”
“And I thought maybe we could invite Steven and Cassie since they got us together,” he went on.
“You've obviously been thinking about this,” I replied, stroking between Ernest’s ears. “That would be nice.”
“Anybody else?”
“Do you know you're my best friend?”
My stomach lurched with the swoop of butterflies and nerves at the sound of Dylan's voice. That had been two weeks ago, when I thought he was going to kiss me and he made his confession of best friendship instead. Having a birthday party without him felt wrong. I wanted to at least invite him. But how would Peter feel about that? The topic of my ex-boyfriends and ex-lovers had never been brought up, but the topic of his ex-girlfriend had been an ugly one. How would he react, knowing a man I used to sleep with was also one of my closest friends—as strange and confusing as our relationship might be?
Talk about the pot calling the kettle black…
“Lenny?”
“Yeah, um …” I cleared my throat and sat in bed. Some topics couldn't be brought up while lying down. “There's someone else I wanna invite, but it's a, uh … a guy friend, and—”
“That guy who dropped you off at my place a while back?”
Swallowing, I nodded while my forehead dotted with a cold sweat. “Yeah, he's a good friend of mine, and, uh …”
“Then, of course you can invite him,” Peter said, not even hesitating the way I’d thought he would.
The wayIwould've had it been the other way around.
Ireallydon't deserve him.
“Okay, cool,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I'll text him. I mean, he probably can't come. He's been in and out of the studio, but—”
“Studio? Like a recording studio?”
It was then that I realized Peter knew nothing about my friendship with Dylan … or anything that had come before. The topic had never come up, or maybe it was that I just hadn’t wanted to talk about it. But the door was open now, and I knew I had to tell him something.
