“Couldn’t agree more.”
We make our way to the bed, and I find a condom, but I don’t put it on right away.
We kiss more, touch more, explore each other. My hands map her body as they roam down her stomach, along her thighs, over the curve of her ass. She’s just as frisky as I am, taking her own inventory, and we’re both panting, groaning, and so damn aroused. I push her down on her back, grab her wrists, and thrust them over her head. “I need to get inside you now. I can’t wait any longer.”
She gives me a seductive, sexy smile. “So don’t wait.”
I roll on the condom and enter her.
It takes me a moment to collect myself because this feels so damn good. And so right. I’m inside the woman who’s been my best friend, who’s been my fake date, who’s been in the friend zone, and who’s most definitely sliding all the way out of that zone tonight.
Because as I move with her, I’m keenly aware that it’s not just fucking. I’m making love to her, and everything feels entirely different between us. When she says my name in that breathy gasp, I’m sure we’re both feeling it, the same flash of possibility.
She loops her arms around my neck, pulls me close, and falls apart beneath me. I follow her there to the other side.
A little later, I run my hand through her hair and whisper in her ear, “I have a feeling we’re going to be doing that for a long, long time.”
“Me too.”
Then I take her hand, kiss her knuckles and ask another question. “Would you be my real date to my sister’s wedding next month?”
She beams. “I would love to.”
The next morning, after we say goodbye and I tell her I’ll see her tonight, I call Eddie. “I have officially met the woman I’m going to marry, and I think you’re going to love her.”
“I already love the Sav-meister. She’s awesome. Also, I knew it, and to celebrate how smart I am, I’m shopping for a new beer bong. Meet me at the diner and tell me all about it.”
At lunch I make my announcement. “She’s the one for me. It’s that simple.”
He slams a hand on the table and beams. “Knew it. Called it. Love it.”
I beam. “Yeah, me too.”
“When are you going to propose?” he asks.
That is an excellent question. When my mom calls that night to update me on my sister’s wedding plans, she asks if Savannah will be my date. “Absolutely. And I’m wondering if you can help me with something, Mom.”
“Name it.”
When I ask for the favor, she squeals.
A week later, nerves are buzzing through me. I’m pacing outside my mom’s flower shop in Prospect Park. I check the time on my watch. Savannah should be here any minute. I spin around, checking my reflection in the window. Nice mint green button-down, stylish jeans. I smooth my hair, pat my pocket, then take a breath.
“Hey handsome,” a voice says.
I shudder, then turn around. The sight of her both calms and excites me. “Hey beautiful,” I say.
“What’s this surprise? I’m dying to know.”
I take her hand, gesture to the store. “Told you I had a connection.”
Mom gave me the keys, so I open the store, then lock it, and I guide Savannah past the displays of flowers. She inhales deeply, savoring the scent. When we reach the back of the store, I guide her up the staircase, then push open a door to a rooftop garden.
She gasps, smiling big and broad. “I had no idea you had a rooftop garden.”
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” I’m stoked the woman I adore is loving this surprise.
She looks radiant in a pink dress as she wanders across the tiny rooftop garden, sniffing peonies and tulips, then checking out the rosemary and sage.
When she turns around, I’m on one knee.
Her eyes pop. Her mouth opens. “Gavin,” she whispers.
“Savannah, when I asked you to be my pretend date for a party, I should have known it would change everything. The second we started planning our backstory, I wanted it all to be real. I knew that night you were the one for me, but I think I knew well before then. Falling in love with a friend has been an absolute joy, and I want to keep falling in love with you for the rest of my life,” I say, then reach into my pocket for the gleaming diamond ring. My fingers fumble briefly, but Savannah’s crying, and smiling and trembling, and that’s all I need to know as I finish. “Will you be my real date? Forever?”
She sinks to her knees, throws her arms around me, and whispers, “Yes. I loved un-dating you.”
I laugh, then slide on the ring, and kiss my fiancée.
When I take her to the rehearsal dinner later that week, I thank my mom for insisting I bring a date to the engagement party earlier this summer.