I smell the flowers again. “These are beautiful, thank you.” I bring the groceries into the kitchen. “How was your trip?”
She slips off her coat, hangs it on the hook by the door, and steps out of her boots. “Boring.”
I have exactly one vase, so I attempt to combine my flowers with hers into one large arrangement. “And your parents are okay keeping Ripley through the weekend?”
She unloads the groceries. “I think they’re loving it, actually. Mom keeps calling him her fur grandbaby.”
My stomach does an unexpected and weird twist at the word baby. A sudden image of a mini-Alex flashes in my mind. “That’s really cute,” I say, but I’m not sure if it’s in reference to her story or the idea of having a baby with my best friend.
I wrap my arms around her for another kiss, keepingthatparticular thought to myself. “Thanks for picking up groceries. I think we might end up getting snowed in. It’s supposed to start up again any minute.”
For a long time, the thought of going out to celebrate made me cringe. That’s all Brian and I did. Even when I suggested trying something new, it was always the fanciest, most expensive place. At the time, it grew tiresome, getting dressed up for a meal when I was usually too tired to enjoy the glitz of it all. Looking back, I realize that was just Brian. That was what he was used to growing up, and that was his way of showing he cared.
So it’s a little weird to feel disappointed that Alex and I won’t be able to go out for our first Valentine’s Day together as girlfriends.
As if sensing my disappointment, she kisses me again. “I’ll take you somewhere awesome for your birthday to make up for it,” she promises. “But just so you know, I love staying in and cooking with you.”
“You do pan-fry a mean steak,” I mumble against her chest.
“Wait until you see what I plan on making for dessert.”
I perk up at the prospect of her baking.
“While we wait for the steaks to come to room temperature…” She slips her cold hands underneath my shirt, and I shriek when they press against my skin. “I haven’t seen you for almost a week, and I’d really like to see this lingerie you mentioned.” She squeezes my breasts, and I moan. Staying home has its perks.
I think I’m in love.
The three-story colonial is right on the edge of a cul-de-sac in a quiet little neighborhood in the suburbs. The homeowners have already moved out, so the house is completely empty. Which only makes it easy to envision just how I’d furnish the place.
“I can almost see it,” I tell Alex excitedly once we’ve toured the entire house. “The Christmas tree over there, your sofa here, and the TV there.” I point everything out, setting the stage like a set designer. The hardwood is gorgeous and new, so I wouldn’t cover it, but a nice area rug underneath the sofa and coffee table would look great.
It’s an open floor plan, and I look through the spacious kitchen to the large windows that show the fenced backyard. The deck is made of Trex, and beyond that is a good-sized yard with a spattering of trees. I can envision a playground like the one I had growing up.
“The garage is great, too. Plenty of room for Betty and your bike.”
“And sidewalks,” Alex points out, still standing by the bay window in the front of the house, her hands shoved deep inside her pockets.
“Yes! And sidewalks.” I sigh wistfully. “I love this house.”
Alex smiles. “I do, too.”
I narrow my eyes. I’ve walked through about two dozen houses with her these past couple of months, and for every single one, she’s had a lot to say. Both good and bad, pointing out everything from the size of the rooms to the shape of the appliances and critiques on paint color. This walk-through, she’s been uncharacteristically silent, hanging back and letting me lead.
“Is that all you have to say? You’ve been awfully quiet this entire time.”
“That’s because I’ve seen it. About a month ago,” she answers before I can ask. “And…” She draws the word, continuing before I have time to process that she saw this house a month ago and not once mentioned it. She pulls a keychain with two golden keys from her pocket. “I closed on her this morning.”
I stare for a moment, taking a beat for her words to sink in. “The house is yours?Thishouse?”
“This house,” she confirms.
“Oh my God, Alex.” I lunge at her, and she barely has time to catch me as I wrap my legs around her waist and my arms around her neck. “Oh my God!”
She laughs and spins me around once before gently placing me on the ground. My arms stay around her neck, and I kiss her, happy and so, so proud.
“I can’t believe this is your house,” I mutter against her lips.
She presses her forehead to mine and squeezes my waist. “Not just mine. I want this to be your house, too.”
