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“You two should go take a photo together onstage, in front of the heart,” she suggests. “Asfriends.”
Ah, I could hug Wren for that suggestion.
I glance over at Ian. “Do you want to?”
“I can take the photo for you,” Wren says before he can answer. “Unless you want to take a selfie together.”
An unspoken message passes between me and Wren. If I take a selfie with Ian, we’ll have to tuck in together real close.
“Oh, I can take it,” I say airily. “But thank you.”
Her smile is knowing. “Have fun! We’ll chat later.”
She waves and takes off, probably in search of Crew.
“You sure it’s okay to go on the stage?” Ian asks, his brows furrowed.
“It’s my party,” I remind him, my voice firm. Ian isn’t much of a rule breaker. He makes my father look like a maniac. “I can go anywhere I want tonight. Come on.”
Wow, I said that with a lot of confidence I don’t necessarily feel, but he doesn’t protest when I take his hand and practically drag him toward the stage. People part as we walk past, making room for my wide pink skirt and train trailing behind me, and once we’re at the stairs, Ian is standing next to me, our hands still linked as we walk up onto the stage.
“You can see everything from here,” he says as he glances over his shoulder to check out the party.
I barely look at the crowd. I’m too entranced by the man beside me. I’ve adored him for far too long, and I can’t help but stare at his lips. Wonder what they might feel like crushed to mine. “Ian, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
He meets my gaze with the slightest frown. “Everything all right?”
I angle myself so we’re facing each other, grabbing his other hand and clutching them both in mine. We’re standing in front of the giant flower heart on the stage, hand in hand, and I have a fleeting thought that we look like we’re about to get married.
Wouldn’t that be amazing? Our wedding at the Plaza. Our families so proud, so incredibly happy as they watch. Our ceremony and reception would look just like this. Hundreds of people in attendance. Flowers everywhere. Delicious food and the alcohol endlessly flowing. A massive cake that Ian would never smash in my face. Me wearing delicate antique lace and looking like a fairy princess. Ian dashing in a black tuxedo.
“Everything is great.” I clear my throat, nerves making my stomach pitch and roll. “I wanted to talk to you?—”
“Scarlett! Happy birthday!”
I glance out at the crowd to see my other best friend, Rachel, standing directly in front of the stage, a giant smile on her pretty face. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Get it, girl! He’s cute!”
If my entire body could blush, it would be doing so right now. I let go of Ian’s hand, giving her a quick wave while shaking my head, hoping she knows I’m trying to tell her to stop talking.
She doesn’t get the hint.
“Is that your boyfriend, Scarlett?”
She knows exactly who Ian is.
“Ignore her,” I tell Ian as I stare up at him.
“Isn’t that your friend?”
“Well... yes.” Rachel is just giving me grief, something she’s tremendously good at. She’s been encouraging me for months to tell Ian how I feel about him, and I’m always making excuses about why I can’t say anything to him.
“Does she think we’re together? Your other friend thought the same thing.” He sounds amused. And this is the perfect segue...
“Speaking of boyfriends, like I said, I wanted to talk to you.” I take a deep breath. “About me. And you.”
“What about us?” Ian’s frown is deep, causing his forehead to wrinkle.
The boy is clueless, I swear. “Maybe there could be an?—”
