"It's practical," Xavier corrects, but there's warmth in his voice that suggests it's way more than just practical. "Text me when you're ready, and I'll be there in five minutes."
The call ends, and Emma pounces immediately like a cat who's been waiting for exactly this moment.
"HE BOUGHT YOU PILLOWS!"
"They're just pillows, Em!"
"They are NOT just pillows! They're I-noticed-what-you-wanted-and-went-out-of-my-way-to-get-it pillows! They're I-want-you-to-be-comfortable-in-our-space pillows! They're I've-been-thinking-about-you-and-what-makes-you-happy pillows!"
"They're..." I stop, because Emma's absolutely right and there's no point in pretending otherwise. He paid attention to something small that would make me more comfortable, remembered it, and followed through without being asked or making it into some big romantic gesture.
"This is it!" Emma announces dramatically, polishing off her champagne in one triumphant gulp like she's sealing some kind of deal.
"What?"
"Your grab-happiness-with-both-hands-and-don't-let-go moment!" Emma starts clearing away our impromptu celebration supplies with purposeful efficiency. "You're going to go home with that gorgeous, thoughtful alpha who bought you comfort pillows just because he wanted you to be happy. You're going to thank him properly. And you're going to stop making excuses for why you don't deserve good things happening to you!"
I finish my own champagne, letting the bubbles carry away the last of my automatic protests and excuses and reasons why this is all too good to be true. Because Emma's right about everything. She's been right all night. I am glowing. I do light up when any of them walk into a room. And maybe, just maybe, I'm finally ready to stop being terrified of wanting something just because I want it.
"You know what?" I stand up, grabbing my purse and jacket with sudden determination that feels like jumping off a cliff and growing wings on the way down. "You're absolutely right!"
"Of course I am! I'm getting married in two days, which officially makes me a relationship expert and qualified to give life advice!" Emma grins and pulls me into another fierce hug. "Go home, Savannah!"
"What about you? I can stay longer if you need help with anything else. We could organize more things! I love organizing things!"
"Are you kidding? Dax will be here in twenty minutes with Thai food and probably flowers he picked up just because they reminded him of me. We're going to eat pad thai in bed while going over the final headcount, and it's going to be disgustingly romantic." Emma practically pushes me toward the door. "Besides, tomorrow we have the rehearsal, Saturday is the wedding, and tonight is for going home and being stupidly happy!"
I pause in her doorway, looking back at my best friend surrounded by evidence of her perfectly planned wedding, glowing with the kind of contentment that comes from knowing exactly where you belong in the universe.
"Emma?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything. For the champagne and the reality check and the emotional intervention I didn't know I needed."
"Thank you for being my best friend and my maid of honor and the most stubborn person I know!" Emma blows me a kiss from across her kitchen. "Now go! Your prince charming is waiting with luxury pillows and probably other thoughtful surprises that will make me insanely jealous!"
I text Xavier as I walk down Emma's front steps, and true to his word, his sleek black sedan pulls up to the curb exactly four minutes later because of course Xavier is exactly on time for everything, including romantic gestures. He gets out to open my door because apparently chivalry is not dead and lives at my fake boyfriend's house, and the smile he gives me makes my heart do actual acrobatics.
"How was your evening?" he asks as we settle into the car, his mint and expensive cologne scent wrapping around me like the world's most attractive security blanket.
"Enlightening," I tell him, buckling my seatbelt while trying not to stare at the way his dress shirt pulls across his shoulders in ways that should be illegal in at least twelve states. "Emma force-fed me champagne and life advice."
"Both essential nutrients for optimal best friend maintenance." Xavier pulls away from the curb with careful precision because he drives the way he does everything else, with complete competence that makes me feel absurdly safe. "Did the life advice take?"
I glance over at him, taking in his perfect profile and the way his hands look gripping the steering wheel like he was born to be in control of vehicles and situations and possibly my entire cardiovascular system, and something settles into place in my chest.
"Maybe."
We drive through downtown Pine Hollow in comfortable silence, passing the wedding venue where our lives changed, the bakery where Griff engineered cake architecture like he was designing the Sistine Chapel of desserts, the little shop where Xavier noticed what I wanted and remembered to get it. Everything feels connected somehow, like all the pieces of our impossibly complicated puzzle are finally clicking together in ways that make actual sense.
"Xavier?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For the pillows. For picking me up. For..." I gesture vaguely, trying to encompass everything I can't quite put into words yet without sounding like a complete emotional disaster.
He glances over at me, and something in his expression shifts. Instead of turning toward home, he pulls into the empty parking lot of Pine Ridge Park and puts the car in park, and suddenly my heart is beating so loud I'm surprised it's not audible in neighboring counties.
