"I said shut up! You're doing that thing where you list every possible worst-case scenario instead of focusing on what's actually happening right in front of your face!" Emma walks around the counter and grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at her instead of spiraling into anxiety land. “You light up like a Christmas tree every time one of them walks into a room!"
She's right, and I hate how right she is. Because when I strip away all my fears and excuses and logical objections, what's left is pretty terrifyingly simple. I'm falling for Logan's steady strength and quiet protectiveness, Griff’s gruff exteriorthat hides the softest heart in Pine Hollow, and Xavier's quiet intensity and the way he notices things I don't even realize I need. I'm falling for morning coffee and evening planning sessions and the absolute rightness of being surrounded by people who make me feel like I belong somewhere.
"Maybe," I whisper, because that's the most honesty I can handle right now.
"You're glowing, Savannah! Like, actually physically glowing with happiness in a way I haven't seen since..." Emma trails off, but we both know what she's not saying. Since before my parents died. Since before I learned that loving people means risking losing them in horrible, unexpected ways.
"It's scary," I admit quietly, because Emma is the only person in the universe I can say that to without dying of embarrassment.
"Good things usually are!" Emma pulls me into one of her fierce hugs, the kind that fixes everything it touches. "But you know what's scarier? Missing out on something amazing because you're too chicken to try!"
I hug her back, breathing in her familiar jasmine and sunshine scent, letting myself feel completely understood by someone who's known me since I thought boys had cooties and believed in fairy tale endings.
"When did you become so annoyingly wise?" I ask when we finally separate.
"About five minutes after I stopped being terrified that Dax was too good to be true and the universe was just setting me up for devastating heartbreak," Emma grins and picks up her champagne glass again, "Zane told me to stop spiraling, and Kai just pulled me into his lap and said, 'Breathe, omega.' Speaking of which, I have a Xavierry!"
"Oh no."
“Yes! The universe has been waiting for all four of you to stop being complete idiots and figure out that you belong together! And my wedding is just the catalyst that's finally making it happen!"
Before I can respond to that particular piece of Emma wisdom, my phone buzzes against the counter like an angry bee. Xavier's name lights up the screen, and my heart immediately does that stupid fluttery thing it's been doing every time one of them contacts me. Like a teenage girl getting a text from her crush, except I'm twenty-eight and should have better control over my cardiovascular system.
"It's Xavier," I tell Emma, who immediately perks up with the kind of interest that means she's about to make this situation infinitely more embarrassing.
"Answer it! Use speaker! I want to hear his voice!"
I roll my eyes but hit the speaker button anyway because arguing with Emma when she's in full matchmaker mode is like trying to stop a freight train with positive thinking. "Hey, Xavier."
"Good evening, Savannah." His voice fills Emma's kitchen, all professional warmth and carefully controlled affection that makes my stomach do gymnastics routines. "I hope I'm not interrupting your planning session."
"Just torturing Sav with champagne and emotional revelations!" Emma calls out cheerfully. "The usual Thursday night activities!"
Xavier's laugh rumbles through the phone speaker, deep and warm and genuinely amused, and I can practically see Emma melting into a puddle beside me. The effect this man's voice has on the female population should be studied by scientists.
"Sounds appropriately terrifying. Savannah, I wanted to let you know I'll be there to pick you up whenever you're ready. No rush."
My stomach does that fluttery thing again, like a whole convention of butterflies decided to hold their annual meeting in my digestive system. "Pick me up?"
"I thought I'd save you the taxi fare.”
Emma is making faces at me from across the counter, waggling her eyebrows and mouthing things that are definitely not appropriate for public consumption. I flip her off while trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, which is basically impossible when your best friend is acting like a demented cheerleader.
"You don't have to do that," I say into the phone.
"I'm in town finishing some errands, and I picked up those pillows you mentioned wanting for the bedroom."
Emma's eyebrow waggling reaches new heights of ridiculousness, and she starts fanning herself with a wedding program while mouthing "SO ROMANTIC" with the kind of theatrical enthusiasm that makes me want to strangle her with tulle.
“You remembered?” I manage, my voice coming out slightly higher than normal because apparently my vocal cords have forgotten how to function like a normal human being's.
"The ones from that little shop downtown. You said the throw pillows on the bed were too flat for proper back support, so I stopped by and got the ones you were looking at last week. They're in my car whenever you're ready."
I stare at the phone in complete shock because Xavier noticed that I mentioned pillows. In passing. And he remembered, and he went out of his way to get them, and he's acting like this is completely normal behavior instead of the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me in approximately forever.
Emma is now making exaggerated swooning motions behind me, clutching her chest and pretending to fan herself like she'shaving vapors, which is making it very difficult to have a coherent phone conversation.
"That's... really thoughtful," I say, and mean it more than I've meant anything in weeks. He notices things. He remembers what matters to people.
