“Why haven’t we done that?” she asks as Landon walks back into the house, carrying a bag.
“I have several kinds of ice cream here,” he says with a grin, passing over the bag. “I also grabbed spoons so you don’t have to get up.”
“I like you so much,” Riley says, reaching eagerly for the bag. “Oh my God, seriously! Look at him!” She’s pointing at the screen where a very mostly naked Stephan is standing. “Hubba hubba.”
“He looks twelve,” Landon says, frowning. “You like the young ones, Ri?”
“He doesn’t look twelve,” we reply in unison.
“He’s over a hundred years old in the story,” Riley says, her face perfectly serious. “But he was in his late teens when he was turned, so he’ll always look young.”
“I’m so relieved,” Landon says, laughing.
“Well, I think we have everything we need,” I say.
“Does that mean, please leave?” Landon asks.
“It means, thank you very much, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wink at him, enjoying the way he looks at me with those hot, blue eyes. He kisses my cheek and waves, then leaves. When we hear his car start, Riley pauses the show.
“Hey!”
“Spill it.”
“Spill what?” I open a tub of Chunky Monkey and sigh happily after the first bite. “You should have some of this.”
“Spill your guts,” Riley replies, also digging into the ice cream. “This is going to be much better than the show.”
“I really don’t have anything to say.” I keep my eyes on my spoon as I eat.
“Lies.” Riley sighs. “All lies. The electricity zinging between you almost electrocuted me. I want the details.”
“Okay, fine. I’ve already admitted it to Addie and Kat. And I’m sure Mia knows.”
“Why am I always the last to know?” Riley demands.
“I’m in love with him,” I mutter, and stare at the ice cream. “Like, head-over-heels, can’t-feel-anything-else in love.”
“That’s awesome. I’m assuming you guys are flinging around the L-word?”
“Nope.” I take a gulp of wine. “No L-words have been spoken.”
She stares at me, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”
“I’m not saying it first.”
“Now who sounds like a kid?”
“I don’t care if it sounds dumb,” I say, and shrug. “I really don’t. I’m not saying it first.”
“Whyever not?” she asks, completely confused. “I mean, who cares who says it first, as long as it’s said?”
“Because what if he just says ‘thank you’? Or ‘you’re so cute.’ Jesus, Riley, I would die. Dead. Deader than a doornail.”
“But what if he says, ‘I love you too, Cami’?”
“Well, that would be nice,” I admit softly. “But what if he just thinks that it’s all just a part of the crush I’ve had on him forever? Because it’s not. What I feel for him now is so much bigger, so much better. He’s not perfect, not by any means, and sometimes he makes me a little crazy, but he’s good to me. He listens to me. I care, more than I ever have about anyone, and I was married, Riley.”
“I know,” she murmurs softly, watching me with happy hazel eyes. “And I watched you be unhappy in a marriage that was just mediocre for far too long.”
“Yeah.” I nod and sigh and absently pet Scoot. “I don’t think anything with Landon could ever be mediocre. He’s not a guy that seems like he’d settle for mediocrity in anything.”
“Do you feel safe with him?” she asks, surprising me.
“Of course.”
“Honestly, Cami, I think you should tell him.”
“Maybe it’s too soon?”
“Oh, please.” Riley rolls her eyes and takes a scoop out of my tub of ice cream. “You and I both know that falling in love happens when it happens. You may have only been dating him for about a month, but you’ve known him most of your life. You know him, Cami.”
“I do.” I nod and stare at the paused screen. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just let it slip out when we’re making love—”
“Bad idea,” she says, shaking her head. “That shouldn’t be the first time.”
“Why not? It’s as intimate as it gets.”
“Exactly. Don’t force it.” She’s staring at Scoot now. “How long have you had this cat?”
“I don’t know, a little more than a month, I guess.”
“You should probably take him to the vet.”
I frown down at him and realize that he’s been letting me pet him. Without trying to kill me. He’s coming around. “You’re right. I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.”
Scoot glares, as if he knows what I’m saying. “He’s smart,” Riley says.
“I know.” I chuckle when he slips out of my lap and curls up next to me on the couch to give himself a bath. “Want to help me take him to the vet?”
“Not a chance in hell of that happening,” she says, shaking her head. “I have a meeting with the Food Network tomorrow.”
“What?” I squeal, staring at her as if she’s just grown a third arm. “Why didn’t you tell us?”