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“Okay, before I go, there is one more thing I need to ask you.” She drags out the words in a singsong as she pushes up off the sidewalk and pulls me up with her.
“What is it?” I ask, wiping the tears from my eyes.
Dakota turns around and walks over to the cab of the truck. She opens the door and pulls out a shiny gold gift bag with navy blue ribbons hanging from the straps.
She walks back over and holds it out to me.
“What’s this?” I question as I take the bag from her hands.
She grabs onto one of my hands and smiles the biggest smile I’ve maybe ever seen.
“Well, it’s probably way in the future and who knows if it’ll even still happen, and just know that I wanted to ask you a different way, but...” she rambles on for a few seconds before I stop her.
“What is it?” I shake her shoulders as she giggles.
“Open it!”
One by one, I pull them from the bag. My go-to vanilla scented lotion, a newBreakfast Clubt-shirt, dark chocolates and a clear wine glass with my name etched on the side in rose-gold lettering.
“Dakota Jade.” I look up at her with new tears forming in the corner of my eyes.
“Will you be my maid of honor?” she asks, the question ringing in my ears.
“Really?” I’m giddy, rocking back on my feet and my smile stretches across my face. I place the glass back in the bag and set it down. I’m overwhelmed by excitement and gratitude for her.
“I wouldn’t want anyone else there by my side!” We hug each other one last time.
“Of course! I’d love to!” I think of how far my friendship with her has come. From meeting for the first time at our coffee shop job, to all of the laughs and tears we’ve shared in between. Dakota is an amazing friend and I know she’s going to make an incredible wife one day.
“I love you,” she says as she pulls away from my embrace.
“I love you, too.”
Callan waits for me in his car, in the parking lot of my complex. I come down the stairs and see him sitting in the driver’s seat of his fancy red car. He jumps out and meets me at the passenger door. I get a whiff of his cologne, woodsy with a hint of peppermint. It intoxicates me and I already want this dinner to be over so we can go straight to bed.
“Happy birthday,” I say as I climb into the car.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says to me as he closes his door shut and pushes the start button.
“I know, but I don’t mind.” I buckle my safety belt.
Callan had explained to me that he attends dinner at the same restaurant every year for his birthday with his family, but this year they had to cancel. He said he was going to skip out on it all together, but when I saw the disappointment in his eyes my dumbass spoke up, involuntarily as usual, and offered to go with him. I know the feeling of family bailing on you.
But as I look over at Callan now, he looks slightly uncomfortable. His gaze is hard and barely focused as he clips his seat belt in place. Maybe I misread his reaction, maybe he wasn’t disappointed.
“Oh, crap,” I whisper. “You don’t want me to go do you? This is too much isn’t it?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” I unbuckle and start gathering up my purse. “I just kind of invited myself. I’m sorry. I don’t have to go.” My cheeks feel hot and red.
Callan and I have this undeniable attraction towards each other, and I try not to overthink things when it comes to whatever is going on between us. Instead, I try to focus on being in the moment, feeling the freedom of being sexual with someone, and not feel bad about it. It’s addictive.
Though inevitably, every high comes with a low. Callan doesn’t do relationships; he’s said it more than once. I like to believe that I’m okay with that, but I can’t help but notice how full my heart feels when I’m around him. It’s getting harder to not want him, to not want more. And the more time we spend together, the more my feelings grow.
Do we keep this a secret?
Am I even allowed to go to a personal dinner with him?
