An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) (3 page)

The best part was that I had now found my own fairytale romance, my own perfect love story. It had been love at first sight for Chris and me, too—though it took us years to admit it. Now that we were together, I realized that every other relationship that I’d ever had was a joke in comparison. Chris and I were the real deal.

I felt a little pang of discomfort, which I tried to ignore. Though I was hopelessly in love with Chris, and generally pretty happy with my life, it was hard not to admit that I was ready for more. I had been thinking about it more and more since dinner with my Mom the other night. Chris and I had talked about marriage, of course, but despite my mother’s proclamation that it was coming, I knew he wasn’t ready yet. He loved me, I was sure of it, and I was trying to be patient. I wasn’t nagging him, or anything, but secretly, I wished he would propose.

Emily always told me I had an overactive imagination. She was right, of course. It was silly to sit here in the bath and imagine the life Chris and I would have when we were married. I had it all mapped out: the cute little house we would get—a fixer-upper so we could bond over decorating together; the vacations we would take; the children we would have. I never told Chris any of this, of course, but I was pretty sure he suspected that I thought about it. He knew me so well.

Stop worrying about the future, I told myself firmly, leaning forward to let the water out of the tub. You’re about to spend the evening with your best friends and the guy you love. Enjoy it.

Determined to follow my own advice, I climbed out of the tub and went to get ready with Emily.

* * *

The four of us ended up getting dinner in nearby Clawson. The Black Lotus Brewery was one of our favorite restaurants. They served great beer and better burgers and their location was perfect, only about ten minutes away from our apartment in Royal Oak.

“Best burgers in Detroit,” Chris said happily when we were served. “Seriously, you can’t beat this.” He looked over at Ryan’s plate and raised his eyebrows. “I can’t speak for whatever that is.”

“It’s a vegan mushroom veggie burger,” Ryan said, attempting to look smug about his superior choice and failing miserably. Ryan had been on a vegan kick ever since he found out his most recent crush was a health nut, but I doubted he would last too much longer. Already he was staring at Chris’s greasy burger with a look of longing on his face.

“How’s Chase?” Emily asked, a knowing smile on her face. Ryan’s face tightened somewhat.

“He’s all right,” he said. “Still refusing to go on an actual date with me, but that didn’t stop him from making out with me in the coatroom at the Rainbow Room last night.”

I frowned at Emily. Ryan deserved so much better. He was one of the sweetest, most loyal people I knew. He was also totally gorgeous and had the best dress-sense of anyone, with the possible exception of my mother. I couldn’t understand why someone amazing hadn’t snapped him up. But he would probably mess it up somehow—Ryan had a tendency to be incredibly self-destructive in his relationships. Which is why I wasn’t at all surprised to hear he was pining after some hipster vegan who wouldn’t give him the time of day in public.

“That’s bullshit,” Chris said, looking at him over his hamburger bun. “You shouldn’t put up with crap like that, Ry. You deserve better.”

I saw something flicker across Ryan’s face, but he quickly hid it with a laugh. “Are you going to give me advice on guys now, Chris?”

Chris just shook his head. “I don’t see why it matters if it’s a guy or not. He’s treating you like shit. What else do I need to know?”

I felt a rush of affection for my boyfriend. He was such a good friend to Ryan, to all of us, really, always looking out for everyone. Chris and Emily had both come from a really small town up in northern Michigan, and I knew a lot of the guys they had grown up with had a pretty primitive opinion about guys who dressed and acted like Ryan, never mind the gay thing. But Chris had never let any of that bother him. He and Ryan had been best friends from the day they first met, as roommates back in college.

“Maybe it’s my lot in life to always be wounded in love,” Ryan said, smiling at me, his voice light. Was I imagining an undertone of pain there? I reached over and took his hand under the table.

“Chris is right,” I said firmly. “You deserve better.”

“Well, until I meet Mr. Better, I guess I’ll just have to make due with stolen coatroom moments with the hot personal trainer,” he said, grinning at me.

Knowing we weren’t going to get him to be serious about the subject, I decided to move on. “So how’s the new fitness regime going, anyhow?” Ryan had met Chase at his new gym. He was training to run the Detroit marathon in the fall, and had joined some way over-priced, fancy facility downtown to help him get in shape. Chase was a spin instructor.

“Pretty good,” Ryan said, his face lighting up. “My time is down three seconds on my mile.”

“You should give up that gym and just start running with me,” Emily said, popping a fry in her mouth. Em had been a track star back in college, and she kept in shape by running three miles every day, without fail. She, too, was training for the marathon, though I couldn’t really imagine her being in better shape than she already was.

I looked over at Chris and smiled, knowing instinctively that he was thinking the same thing as me. Chris and I weren’t exactly what you would call athletic, though Chris met Ryan and a group of guys for a game of basketball every week. My own fitness routine was limited to walking around the mall in search of sales. The idea of running more than twenty-five miles in one morning sounded, frankly, insane to me.

As Emily and Ryan started a debate on the best way to train for a distance race, Chris scooted his chair closer to me and put his hand on my leg. “How was your day?” he asked softly, looking into my face. “I barely talked to you back at the apartment.”

I felt my stomach flip slightly, the way it always did when I was close to Chris. After more than two years of dating, that feeling had never gone away. I thought back to my conversation with Susan but pushed the memory away. I
wouldn’t
lose the stomach flip, no matter how long our relationship lasted.

“It was okay,” I told him, smiling. I loved looking at Chris’s face. Somehow I could see all of his kindness, his loyalty, and his easy-going nature in that face. He had the most beautiful blue eyes behind his glasses, and his curly brown hair was usually messily brushed across his forehead. He smiled easier than anyone I had ever met.

“I’m glad,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me softly.

“How was yours?”

Chris’s face lit up. “Great,” he said, looking excited. He started in on an explanation of his day, of the breakthrough he had made in his research. Chris worked at Wayne State in downtown Detroit. He did research in the molecular nutrition lab, a subject that was way over my head. Chris was like, mega-smart when it came to science stuff. But somehow, as complicated as it was, when Chris explained it to me, I always understood just what he meant. It was one of the things that I loved about him, the way he could take something so big and complex and narrow it down to the important point.

Once we had finished our burgers, we all ordered another round of beers. The restaurant was filling up around us, and a light snow had started falling outside. The street was lined with white twinkle lights, and people rushed down the sidewalk in pairs and groups. Next to me, Chris slouched comfortably in our booth, his arm slung lazily across the back of my seat, a smile on his face. I felt cozy and content in the warmth with my friends and sipping a good beer, while Emily made us all laugh with stories of clients at her physical therapy clinic.

“That reminds me,” Ryan said. “My office is throwing a party next Friday. They’ve rented out the entire Edison restaurant at the Dearborn Inn.”

Chris whistled. “That won’t come cheap.”

“No,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a little overboard, but they’re celebrating the new account.” Ryan worked for Quicken Loans, a big mortgage broker downtown. Unlike Chris, when Ryan tried to explain what he did on a daily basis, I rarely knew what he was talking about. But I did know that he had a fancy office and that he made good money, allowing him to dress in the high-end suits he adored. “Anyhow,” he continued. “You guys all have to come. I can put you on the VIP list. It should be pretty fun, real swanky.”

Next to me, Chris looked uncomfortable, and I thought I saw Emily’s face fall. “Actually, we’ll be out of town next weekend,” Chris said, looking apologetic. “Sorry, man.”

“We will?” I asked, turning to him.

He shrugged sheepishly. “Surprise.”

“Oh!” I said, realizing what he meant. Valentine’s Day.

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, rolling his eyes. “That BS holiday isn’t until Saturday. You can’t spare your Friday to keep me company?”

“I have a whole weekend thing planned,” Chris said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell that this wasn’t the way he had planned to tell me, but I felt a rush of excitement all the same. What was he up to?

“What about you?” Ryan asked, sounding almost aggressive as he turned to Emily.

She looked abashed. “We’re going, too. Me and Elliot.”

I stared at her in surprise. She was in on this, whatever Chris was planning? Before I could ask any of the questions that were running through my head, I caught sight of Ryan’s face. My stomach sank. They obviously hadn’t asked him along.

“I’m sorry, man,” Chris said, obviously picking up on the same thing I had. “I didn’t really think it would be your thing.”

“That’s fine,” Ryan said, though it obviously wasn’t. He was a good actor though; his voice had that same light, teasing tone he normally had. “God knows I have no desire to be closeted up with a bunch of boring couples somewhere. You guys have fun. I’ll be out on the town enjoying the fact that I’m not tied down.”

I looked at Emily as Ryan took a swig of his beer. He wasn’t fooling her either.
I’ll talk to him
, she mouthed. I nodded.

“So what’s next?” Ryan asked, setting down his beer. “What do you guys feel like?”

“I think I’m ready for something stronger than a beer,” Emily said, her voice bright. “Should we hit a bar?”

“Sounds good to me,” Chris said.

“Maybe somewhere with dancing?” Em offered, hoping to cheer Ryan up. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not fooled by her attempts at sounding casual.

“You know I’m in,” I said. “When have I ever passed up the chance to go dancing?”

“Oh, what the hell,” Chris said, throwing down his napkin. “We haven’t been dancing in forever. Why not?”

Ryan grinned. I had a feeling it was his first sincere smile of the evening. I made a mental note to make plans with him, just the two of us, soon. Something was up with him, I could just tell, something more than just his irritation that the four of us would be going away for the weekend.

He seemed happy enough now, though, now that we were all in agreement on the dancing front. Before anyone could stop him, he threw some money down on the table to cover the bill. “My treat,” he said. “Now let’s get going.”

* * *

I woke up the next morning on the couch in our living room. I glanced blearily around the room, my head pounding for some reason, to see Emily curled up in her beloved papasan chair. Ryan was sprawled on the floor next to her, his leather jacket curled up under his head like a pillow.

It all came rushing back to me then, the dancing until two a.m., the staggering home in a cab only to continue our little dance party in the living room, where Chris played DJ and Ryan argued with him over the selection. I had a vague recollection of doing shots at one point, but that part of the night remained blurry.

“I’m dying,” Ryan moaned suddenly from his jacket pillow. “Seriously. Someone make the pounding stop.”

“Me, too,” I whispered, afraid talking louder would hurt my head even more.

“I told you all to stop drinking after the second shot,” Emily said from her chair, not bothering to open her eyes. “You should have listened to me.”

I managed to pull myself up into a sitting position. Bright light was flooding in from the living room windows, making it painful to keep my eyes open. Of course the clouds we’d had for the past several weeks would choose this morning to dissipate, right when sunlight was totally unwelcome to me.

“Where’s Chris?” I asked, looking around the room.

“Did we lose him?” Ryan asked, sitting up himself. He immediately put his hands over his eyes. “God. I’m never doing that again.”

“Yeah, you say that every time,” Emily said, snuggling closer into her chair. “You’re turning into a lush in your old age, Ry.”

I snorted. “Or maybe we just can’t handle our liquor like we used to.”

“It has been a while since I’ve drunk like that,” Ryan agreed, rubbing his temples. “God, I’m getting soft.”

Just then, the front door swung open, revealing Chris holding several Styrofoam containers. “Good, you’re all up,” he said, pushing his way into the room and managing to shut the door behind him with a foot. “I come bearing sustenance.”

Emily sat up immediately. “Do I smell grease?”

“You do indeed. Grease and carbs, the perfect morning-after food.”

I whimpered a little. “Have I told you I love you?”

Chris laughed. “As a matter of fact, you have. Come on, I’m starved.”

We all followed him into the kitchen, Ryan and I at a slightly slower pace than Emily. “Were we the only ones who overdid it?” I asked.

“Yup,” Emily said, plopping herself into a chair at the kitchen table.

“Really?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He set the food containers on the table and turned to the cabinets for plates. “I recall you serenading all of us with Britney Spears songs last night.”

Emily froze. “Oh my God, I did not. Did I?”

“You did,” Chris said, laughing. “You should probably call Elliot, too. Apologize.”

“I called Elliot,” Emily said slowly, as if just remembering it. “Holy hell. I sang to him.”

Ryan and I burst out laughing. “You did!” he hooted. “That’s amazing, you
so
did.”