“What’s your usual table?” It’s weird he’s never mentioned this place before.
“It’s a private dining room.”
I roll my eyes at how ostentatious he is. “You’re a flashy jerk sometimes, Leon Hill.”
“And you can be a brat sometimes, Ms. Johansson,” he counters, causing me to chuckle.
The host stops in his tracks outside a gold door marked Orangery and opens it for us to walk through.
Confusion has me squinting in the pitch-black room until Leon whispers in my ear, “Happy Birthday, Erika,” just as theroom is flooded with light, illuminating a sea of familiar faces: my friends and family.
“Surprise,” they all shout together in unison, their mouths wide with smiles, as they fill the room with laughter, cheering, and whooping.
I throw my hand to my chest in shock as a wave of emotion hits me full force, tears of happiness clouding my vision. “Oh my god,” I mutter as my mom and Lily run toward me, surrounding me in a three-way hug.
“I didn’t forget your present, Erika. I was saving it for tonight,” Lily confesses. “I told a little white lie today.”
My mom jumps in, squeezing me tightly. “I’m sorry if you thought I wasn’t going to see you today. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“This is amazing.” I look over their shoulders, waving to everyone staring at me as my mom and sister-in-law hold on to me as if not wanting to let me go. “Thank you for organizing this, Lily.”
Lily and my mom release me.
“Oh, I had nothing to do with this.” Lily motions to the room filled with fairy lights and what looks like at least a hundred cream and soft lavender-colored helium balloons with ‘Happy Birthday, Erika’ printed across them in pale gold. “The champagne, the food, the venue, the music, it was all Leon’s doing. He should have been a wedding planner.” She chuckles.
“What?” I ask, aghast, surveying the elegant decorations, my eyes devouring every beautiful detail, from the table linens to the three-tier cream-colored cake, decorated with the finest gold, cream, and pale purple peonies that spiral around it and look edible. “Why would he do this?” I whisper, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend like Leon.
“You’re a smart woman, Erika, I’m sure you can work out why.” Lily winks before walking off with my mom, arm in arm, looking like a pair of conspirators.
I shake my head in confusion, not understanding what the heck she’s talking about. Before I can think it through, I’m swamped as my friends and family circle me, showering me with birthday wishes, hugs, and kisses. My night takes an unexpected twist, and it’s better than I could ever have imagined. This feels incredible, and I feel so special. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.
As I hug my last guest, I glance over their shoulder and find Leon staring right at me, watching my every move.
I mouth athank you, and in return, he blows me a kiss from across the room, then mouths back,you look beautiful. His lips form a wide smile before he takes a sip of his champagne.
On nights like tonight, I sometimes, okay, maybe more than sometimes, wish that Leon wasn’t just my friend… sometimes I wish he were mine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Erika– Present Day
Leon has always called me beautiful, and I laugh it off, but somehow, his words are affecting me differently today.
Casually leaning against the doorjamb of his bathroom, with his bow tie now gone, he’s undone the first two buttons of his white tux shirt, revealing his tan skin from running shirtless almost every day during summer. There is no denying it: the former Edmonton Eagles wingman still has it.
Like a fine wine, he becomes more delicious with age.
Maybe it’s just the emotions of today making me see him in a brighter light, but I’ve always been a sucker for his chiseled jaw you could cut glass with, his blond wavy hair that falls just below his ears, which is much shorter now than when he was younger, and vivid green eyes that look like the same shade as kryptonite.
He has no idea how incredible I think he is, far beyond how other women see him. I admire how successful and smart he is, and I love the way he cares for his mom and dad. Most women seem interested in just two things: his money and the size of his pierced dick. I shouldn’t know this about him, but I do. Thank you, stupid puck bunny forums, for telling me all the things I ammissing out on. Years later, I often catch myself wondering if he still has his piercings.
Stop it. You shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts about your best friend.
My obsession with Leon lasted over a decade until I finally gave up any hope of us becoming more than friends. It hurt, but I accepted it because I never wanted to lose one of the most important people in my life.
He’s always just there for me. Like now.
“I’m sorry about your shirt.” I nod my head in his direction, referencing my makeup smudges that have stained the white cotton.
