49. Lucy
Lucy
Istare at the text that Leo sent me this morning.
Hey. Be ready for an early dinner. I’ll pick you up at five.
I glance down at the outfit I laid out on his bed. A giddy feeling flickers in my belly. I have no idea what he’s planning, but I’m excited.
When I woke up, he was already out of the house. He’s been gone the whole day. And then he sent me that text a few hours ago.
I smile so hard my cheeks ache. This feels a lot like a date. Wait, is this a date?
I shake my head, feeling embarrassed for even thinking that. Of course it’s not. Because we’re not a couple. We’re just two friends having fun, living in the moment.
A tiny pang of disappointment lands at the center of my chest. I’m not sure why. That’s what I want—it’s what I told Leo I want.
I don’t want to overanalyze or stress about labels or dating or a relationship. I just want to have fun with him.
I refocus on my outfit for tonight. I want to look cute and sexy, but not like I’m trying too hard.
I switch out the red blouse for an emerald green top with long sleeves and a neckline that dips a little low.
I try it on with jeans and high-heeled boots, then look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look okay. Then I swipe on some makeup and brush my hair. I put on a pair of small, chunky gold earrings my mom gave me years ago. I only wear them during special occasions, and this definitely counts.
I check the time. Just before five.
I glance at Wally, who’s curled up on the floor at my feet on the dog bed that Leo bought him. Warmth bursts through my chest when I think about how this is the second dog bed he’s gotten for Wally because Wally sleeps in his bedroom sometimes, and he wanted him to be comfortable.
I crouch down and give Wally a soft scratch behind his ears and a kiss on his head. I smile when he barely opens his eyes. He’s sleeping pretty hard. I head downstairs.
The front door opens a second later, and Leo walks in.
My tummy flips when I see how good he looks. He’s wearing dark jeans and a gray Henley with white sneakers.
How does he look good in literally everything? I’ve seen him in hockey gear, workout clothes, T-shirts and joggers, a tux. In every single outfit, he’s so handsome it hurts.
The corner of his mouth tips up in an achingly sexy half-smile. He runs his gaze along the length of my body. “Wow,” he murmurs.
A hot flush makes its way up my chest and face.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
I make a flustered sound and smile. “Thanks. You look hot.”
His half-smile turns full. He grabs his jacket from the nearby hallway closet. “You ready to go?”
I nod and grab my jacket. I follow him out the front door and to his car in the driveway.
When he opens the passenger door for me, I see a massive bouquet of Gerbera daisies sitting on top of the seat.
“What are those for?” I ask.
“You.”
He reaches in and grabs the bouquet. He hands them to me. “Happy birthday, Luce.”
I stare at him, my mouth parted open in surprise. I start to laugh. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Yeah, but you said you didn’t get to celebrate your last birthday. So we’re going to. Tonight.”
My heart does that funny, happy bouncing thing that it does every time Leo plans something sweet and thoughtful for me.
I stare up at him. “Are you serious?”
He brushes a chunk of hair out of my face, gently tucking it behind my ear. “I’m serious, Luce. I’m taking you out for your birthday.”
That giddy feeling swoops through me once more. It hooks behind my heart and expands through my ribcage.
I can’t help the cheesy smile that pulls at my face as I climb into his passenger seat. I close my eyes and inhale the crisp, fresh scent of the flowers.
“These are so pretty,” I say when he hops in the driver’s seat.
“You like them?”
“I love them. Thank you.”
He pulls out onto the street and merges onto the freeway.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” I ask.
He smiles at the road ahead. “Nope. But I bet you’ll figure it out soon.”
When he takes the exit for downtown and drives by Larimer Square, I gasp. “Wait, are we going to The Cheesecake Factory?” I practically squeal.
He grins at me before pulling into a parking garage. “Yup.”
When he parks, I put the bouquet in the backseat, then hop out and run over to him. I jump-hug him the second he’s out of the car.
“Leo, this is so thoughtful. Thank you,” I whisper.
He wraps his big arms around me, hugging me tight. We break apart, and he grabs my hand. “Come on. Let’s go celebrate your birthday.”
* * *
“We’re definitely ordering mozzarella sticks,” Leo says to me from across the table.
I look up from the menu, unable to hide the giddy smile that’s making my cheeks ache. I can’t believe he planned something so special for me.
I butter a slice of brown bread and take a big bite. I close my eyes, smiling as I chew.
“Good?” Leo asks.
I nod at him and take another bite. “It tastes exactly the same as I remember.”
A comforting feeling washes over me as I gaze around at the overly stylized, maximalist decor. I push the basket over to Leo, but he shakes his head.
“That’s all for you,” he says.
The server comes by and takes our dinner order. Leo requests mozzarella sticks for our appetizer, then asks for a salad with dressing on the side and no cheese, with grilled chicken breast added. I ask for fried Mac and cheese and avocado egg rolls.
“And could we get some more brown bread please?” Leo asks.
The server says no problem and walks off.
“I won’t be able to eat the food I ordered if I eat more bread,” I say to Leo. “Especially if I want to get cheesecake for dessert.”
“Then take it home with you for leftovers.”
The server drops off another bread basket and refills our waters. I let myself have another slice before deciding to save the rest to take home.
“It’s not weird that I’m ordering only appetizers for dinner, right?” I ask.
“Hey.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand in his. “This is your birthday. And on your birthday, you can order whatever the hell you want.”
That loopy, happy feeling swoops through me once more.
“I want to spend every birthday here,” I say softly. And then I suddenly feel self-conscious. That’s probably really childish that I’m twenty-two and want to celebrate all my birthdays at a random chain restaurant.
I wonder how Leo spent his birthdays. He grew up in a family with tons of money, so I bet he had lavish celebrations. I bet going to The Cheesecake Factory wasn’t a big deal at all, like it was for me growing up.
I let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Is that lame?”
“Nope. My sister and I would beg our parents to take us to The Cheesecake Factory all the time as kids.”
I perk up. “Really?”
He nods. “My dad wouldn’t let us because he thought the food was unhealthy and would interfere with my nutrition and training as an athlete.”
That hard look flashes in his eyes, but he blinks it away a second later.
“Where was your favorite place to celebrate your birthday growing up?” I ask, changing the subject.
“When I was little, McDonald’s.”
He laughs. So I do.
“Me too,” I say.
“When I was a teenager, my friends and I would almost always go to Buffalo Wild Wings.”
I smile at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. Our teenage taste buds loved their wing sauces. We’d dare each other to try the hottest ones.”
I chuckle, feeling comforted that a rich kid like Leo enjoyed normal things, just like me.
“What’s the hottest sauce you could handle?” I ask.
“Spicy garlic.”
I burst out laughing. “Really? That’s not even that spicy.”
“Yeah, it is.” His tone is defensive, but he’s smiling. It’s really cute.
“It barely tingles in your mouth when you taste it.”
“I had to drink a glass of milk the first time I tried it.”
“Wow. I had no idea you were such a baby when it comes to spice,” I tease.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, the edge of his mouth tilted up in a sly half-smile. “Okay, Miss Hot Sauce. What’s the spiciest flavor you tried at Buffalo Wild Wings?”
“Blazin.’”
He looks at me. “That’s their hottest one.”
“Yup.”
“Did you need to chase it with milk?”
I smile. “Nope.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Damn. You’re hardcore.”
“I guess I’m just a lot tougher than you,” I tease.
His smile widens. “Seriously?”
“It’s just wild. Here you are, this big, tough hockey player who can barely handle the tiniest bit of spice.”
I’m being a brat, but Leo seems to like it.
His head falls back as he chuckles. “You’re talking some serious shit.”
I laugh, feeling so giddy and happy in this moment. I love how we can joke around. I love that he likes it when I give him a hard time.
Our food arrives a few minutes later. I eat almost all of the appetizers and give Leo the rest.
When he takes a bite of the fried macaroni and cheese, he closes his eyes and hums. “Damn, that’s good.”
He inhales the rest along with the eggrolls I couldn’t finish.
He slides the dessert menu to me. “Order a slice of cheesecake.”
The low, bossy growl of his voice makes my tummy flip.
“I can’t decide between the s’mores cheesecake and the cherry cheesecake,” I say when the server comes back.
“They’re both delicious,” the server says.
“We’ll get both,” Leo says.
When the server walks off, I turn to Leo. “There’s no way I can eat two slices of cheesecake,” I say through a laugh.
“Take it home then. I want you to have exactly what you want today, Luce. You deserve two desserts.” He leans closer to me. “You deserve everything you want.”
My breath catches in my throat at his words. He is so generous and doting.
The server drops off two plates of cheesecake. I notice there’s extra whipped cream and candles on both slices.
“Happy birthday,” the server says with a smile before walking off.
I look at Leo again, smiling like an idiot.
“Make a wish,” he says.
I blow out both candles, silently wishing that I’ll remember this moment forever.
When I take a bite of the s’more cheesecake, I moan. “Oh my god.”
“I thought you only made those noises in bed with me,” Leo says.
I throw my napkin at him and offer him a bite. His eyelids flutter. “That’s really good.”
He grabs the fork and takes a bite. Then another one after that. I can’t help but grin wide, happy that he’s letting himself have dessert. He deserves this too.
When I can’t eat another bite, the server packs up what's left over from dessert along with the brown bread loaf.
Leo hands him his credit card to pay for the meal.
I touch his arm, and he looks at me.
“Thank you for this.” I swallow past the emotion bubbling up my throat. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time,” I tell him.
He cups my cheek in his hand, gently stroking my skin with his thumb. “Thank you for letting me take you out.”
Intensity flickers in his mahogany eyes as he holds my gaze. I still can’t believe he did this for me.
We walk out of the restaurant, holding hands. Leo pulls out of the parking garage and drives in the direction of the house.
“That was the best night ever,” I say.
He turns to me. “It’s not over yet.”
I sit up, eager to find out what else he has planned.
“What else do you have planned?”
Just like before, he looks at me and flashes that sexy, knowing smile. “You’ll see.”