Leo laughs. Then he pulls me closer, pressing his lips against my hair, and I feel his smile against my skin.
Epilogue
Leo
Today is Archie’s birthday, also known as the one-year anniversary of the day we met.
So, of course, there is only one destination Archie insists we celebrate at.
“I can’t believe I’m voluntarily setting foot in this place again,” I mutter as we push through the doors of Pirates of Pancake Bay.
The burned bacon smell of the fog machine hits me first, the signature fragrance of a restaurant that has committed fully to a theme no one asked for.
Nothing seems to have changed. A mechanical parrot shrieks “Walk the pancake!” at us as we navigate through the restaurant. The decorative netting still hangs from the booths like a health-and-safety violation waiting to happen. A large sign warns that the ship’s deck section still rocks on a half-hour cycle because, apparently, this restaurant will commit to simulated maritime trauma until its dying breath.
“It’s exactly how I remember it,” Archie says in the reverent tone most people reserve for cathedrals.
“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”
“It absolutely is. This place is a masterpiece. They have not compromised on a single element of their vision.”
“Their vision involves simulated seasickness.”
“Art requires sacrifice, Leo.”
It’s been a year of this. A year of this bantering back and forth, of finding glitter in places glitter has no business being, of being challenged and charmed and everything in between.
It’s been the most amazing year of my existence.
I meet Archie’s gaze, and he must see some of my emotions on my face because he scrunches his nose playfully at me in the way that he does.
The others are already waiting for us at the table.
Billy, Jaymee, Andrew, and Justin have secured a booth on the lower level because, apparently, we have all learned some lessons from last year’s incident.
And there is another person waiting at the table for us.
Dark-blond hair, hazel eyes, familiar jawline.
A year ago, I thought I’d spotted Vaughn at this restaurant, and it had sent me on a revenge rampage armed with maple syrup.
This year, the sight of Vaughn’s face has me turning to see the reaction of the man I love.
It’s worth it.
Archie stops in his tracks when he sees his brother.
He blinks. And then blinks some more.
“Hey, little bro.” Vaughn stands to give him a big hug. “Happy birthday.”
Archie is shaking his head and grinning as he hugs his brother back.
Then, as soon as Archie’s detached himself, he whirls around to me with a suspicious expression.
“Did you know about this?” he demands.
“I might have had an inkling,” I say.
