“I can,” I said, a wide grin breaking out across my face. “I never thanked you.”
“For what?” Her brow crinkled. “Introducing you to Jeannine? I’m thrilled you went through with it.”
“No, well that. But…” I shrugged. “If I didn’t have you across the street at the beginning. If I didn’t have you checking on me every day, sending your poor husband to do my yardwork.”
We shared a laugh.
“He’s happy to do it. I told you, staying home all the time isn’t good for him.”
I tilted my head and shot her a wry grin.
“You were there when I didn’t have anyone else because I wouldn’t go to anyone else. It helped.” I swallowed, a lump poking the back of my throat. “A lot.”
Dean and Maria were my oldest friends and still didn’t know my diagnosis. I’d told my work friends out of necessity, but Karen was a safe space. Someone I could be a sickly mess in front of without worrying about howthey’dworry. It was an invaluable gift that I didn’t believe I could have lived without.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “And I’m very happy for you. You’ve been through a lot, kid. Enjoy the victory spoils.” She cracked a sneaky grin. “Like that big, sexy giant who’s getting off the train any minute.”
After I walked her to the door, I glanced up the block to see if I could spot Landon coming from the train station. I ran upstairs to change into the underwear I’d kept from the photo shoot and shrugged into my silk robe. It still knocked the wind out of me sometimes that we were here and together like this. It seemed surreal and yet as if it had always been like this at the same time.
I had never been happier with anyone or thought being this happy was even possible, but I was afraid to put a label on us when everything was so perfect. Graduating from best friends to lovers was a big deal, but while we still liked to joke about being married, we weren’t. Not in the way I wanted to be.
I wanted him here with me for good, not just living out of his suitcase in my spare room. I wanted this to be his home.Iwanted to be his home.
But for today, I’d celebrate the us that we were instead of wondering what we could be.
“Honey, I’m home.”
I laughed at Landon’s greeting wafting up my stairs. I was excited to give him the photo but nervous at the same time. It was a side of me I wasn’t even aware of, and since he had me in a way no one else ever had, it seemed perfect. I tried to keep that in mind as I wiped my sweaty palms along my robe.
“Am I allowed to say happy birthday?” I asked as I ambled down the stairs. “And don’t worry, I’m the only one here.”
He did a double take in my direction as he hung his jacket on the coatrack by the door.
“With you dressed like that, you better be.” His gaze roamed my body, my skin flushing hot along its path.
“Take it easy, caveman,” I said as I came up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “There’s stuffed chicken parm in the oven and tiramisu cake from Zeppieri’s in the fridge. I didn’t even get candles.”
“It’s okay. We can celebrate however you want to.” He dug his hand into my hair and yanked me closer, tugging at the knot on my robe with his other hand. “I’d like to open my presents now.”
“Wait,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Not yet. I have something better for you.”
“Better than you naked?” He bent his head, grazing his bottom lip over mine. “Not possible.”
“You’ll see,” I said, holding in a laugh at his crestfallen expression as I pushed my hands against his chest. “Come with me,” I said, cringing when I turned around to lead him into the kitchen.
“This is for you.” I lifted the gift bag off the counter. “I think you’ll find this better than the crappy sketches I gave you sophomore year.”
He pursed his lips as he slid the frame out of the bag.
“Your sketches were awesome, that’s why I kept them. So stop that—”
He held up the frame, a deep crinkle in his brow as he fell back against the counter.
“Karen knows someone who does boudoir photography and suggested this when I told her I didn’t know what to get you, even though you wanted me to ignore your birthday altogether.”
He gave me a tiny, almost indiscernible nod, still studying the picture. I’d worn a black push-up bra and matching lacy bikini underwear with thigh-high stockings and heels. I hadn’t had to stand up other than to lean against a wall a few times, so I was able to tolerate the pain enough to be able to still act sexy. My hair was curled in waves, and I stared at the camera with smoky eyes. The pose Jeannine and I had settled on was me sprawled out on a bed, my arms flung over my head with my back arched and knees bent.
“It’s big, so I don’t know where you’d put it. The photographer gave me a couple of Fireball shots to loosen me up, and it may have clouded my judgment a little when I chose the size. I have the proof outtakes if you want to see.” I stepped closer as he grazed a finger over the glass. “You can file it with the sketches for the next twenty years.”
