Turning around towards the kitchen, I take a few slow, intentional breaths. Coffee. We need coffee.
I notice a basket of snacks sitting on the counter along with two bottles of apple cider.
Hmm, that wasn’t there this morning.
The note has no name. Instead, it reads“friends-to-lovers is my favorite trope”.
Lucy. Marie. Spence.
I’m driving home right now to murder her. I’ll be back before Braxton even notices his truck is missing.
“What’s this?” I startle at Braxton’s voice behind me. Plucking the note from the basket and stuffing it into my pocket, I practically growl Lucy’s name.
“Huh, that’s nice of her,” he says, grabbing the cheese from the basket. “Shall I?”
“I’ll get it. Go find a movie for us to watch.”
I grab the sharp cheddar cheese and start working on crafting a charcuterie board. Yes, a board came in the basket. I find grapes, three other kinds of cheese, and several types of meats inside the basket.
The sweet, citrusy scent of the apple cider wafts upward as I pour two glasses. Might as well enjoy her little gift since it’s here. Apple cider is one of my favorite autumn drinks.
It takes two trips to haul the food and drinks to the movie theater he has set up for us.
Braxton has the fire blazing hot in front of us, Netflix pulled up on the TV above it, a blanket and pillow pallet in front of the couch, and the two cushions from the sofa…indicating our seats.
He plops down on one of the cushions and then pats the other while gazing upwards at me.
Not looking at me like, “Hey best friend, come watch this movie”.
He’sgazing.Like Edward gazes after Bella. No, hungers.
His hooded eyes are a fire that makes my body hotter than the furnace in front of me.
Oh, heavens.
I take my seat beside him, careful not to touch him in any way.
After a few moments of scrolling through Netflix, we settle onSweet Home Alabamaand hit play. Braxton and I have been best friends for twenty years, so he is aware of my affinity for this movie.
What he doesn’t know is why I love it so much.
Sure, the witty banter is on point. Reese Witherspoon is a goddess. Josh Lucas is drool-worthy. And a good enemies-to-lovers plot line keeps the romantic tension sky high.
But the real reason I love the movie? I always hoped it would be my story. With Braxton. Without the enemies part.
Childhood best friends who knew from a young age they would marry each other. Except if he would have asked me to marry him at eighteen, I would have accepted and been glad to have his baby.
As that infamous scene plays across the screen, I sneak a look at Braxton like a schoolgirl spying on her crush. With a side-eye glance, I catch him looking at me. Averting my gaze faster than the lightning striking the sand on the television, I silently hope he hasn’t developed the power to read minds like Edward Cullen. On the other hand, I’ve always been an open book to him, and he reads me better than I read fashion magazines.
A giggle escapes my lips, and I decide to blame it on the sugar consumption from today and not on how elated my soul is. I blatantly stare at Braxton now while he watches the movie with a small smile tugging at his full lips.
“How many times have we watched this movie together?” I ask. He turns that smile towards me, and it grows wider than the double-wide I grew up in prior to Grandmama leaving me her house.
“Five, maybe six….thousand times.” He laughs, a beautiful and deep carefree sound. It does warm things to my soul. I want to make him laugh more. It’s my new life mission.
“Hmm, I thought for sure it was in the millions.”
“Have you been watching it with another man?” Braxton asks, his eyebrows shooting up in a challenge.
