Birthday Girl

He lifts up his arm, signaling me to come in, and I curl up next to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

A wave of peace settles over me. This feels so good.

I run my fingers down his chest and stomach and then circle my arm around him, looking up at him in the dark.

He and I are at two completely different places in our lives. He asked me once what I see in him. I could ask him the same thing.

“What are you staring at?” he asks.

I tip my head back down, rubbing my lips over his skin and thinking. “I envy you.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “You just have yourself figured out, and I don’t,” I tell him. “I worry about everything. Will I make it through school? Will I be who I want to be? Will I have friends and contribute to the world or just wind up doing work I hate like my sister and my father and everyone else I know?” I glance back up at him. “Everyone except you, that is. You give the impression that you’re right where you want to be with yourself, and you don’t regret anything. I regret everything.”

I breathe out a little laugh. “Well, not everything,” I correct myself. “I feel stupid a lot, though. About words I speak as soon as they come out of my mouth. Things I do. Decisions I make. I’m always second-guessing myself. Like maybe I’d just be happier if I stayed quiet and kept my damn mouth shut and my head down.”

His arm tightens around me. “Happier or safer?”

Aren’t they the same?

But no, I know what he’s saying. A ship at harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are for.

“I think you’re scared, because people have worked hard to make you think you’re not worthy of their attention, Jordan,” he says. “Your parents, that ex of yours from high school…even Cole. You gave people a chance, and they abused it. That’s their fault, not yours.” He tips my chin up so my eyes meet his. “Don’t think it has anything to do with who you are. And don’t let anyone make you afraid of yourself. You’re incredible.”

My smile peeks out, and even though a thousand doubts about where he and I are headed run through my head, I’m taking tonight for tonight. I needed to hear that. The only other person who talks me up like this is my sister.

But Pike is better, because I can kiss him, too.

“And I became who I am, because I had no choice,” he points out. “If things had been different, I would’ve liked to go to college. Travel. Maybe wear a suit to work.” His body goes rigid. “I envy you. You’re still growing, and you can still be anyone you want. You have all the choices in the world ahead of you.”

I hadn’t thought about that. How different his life would be if Cole had never come along.

“The memory of you in that suit,” I muse. “You should take me on a date in it. You’ve never seen me in a dress.”

He’s silent, his thumb rubbing up and down my arm, and I know what he’s not saying. He can’t take me out unless we go somewhere out of town.

I take a deep breath, pushing the concern to the back of my mind.

“When I first saw you, I felt like I’d been punched,” he whispers. “You have a body that makes me feel like I’m on a rollercoaster when I touch it.”

I smile and slide off my panties before swinging a leg over him, straddling him and sitting up.

He exhales, gripping my hips. “But really, it wasn’t until the build-up of every little thing you do—bringing me lunch, serving me my own ass in that supply room at the bar both times, and even telling me to get that backsplash and making me laugh with your innuendo about how I’m like a cave.” He laughs. “You make my heart pound so hard it hurts, Jordan. You, your mouth, and who you are, it all makes me want to touch you. It makes me not want to stop this.”

He meets my eyes and tucks my hair behind my left ear. “Do you regret me?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“It’s okay,” he prompts. “You can be honest, even if it’s just a small part of you. I’ll understand.”

I lean down, planting a hand next to his head. “I regret the way I couldn’t stop staring at you the day I moved in when you carried some of my boxes into the house,” I tell him. “How I love the way you don’t say much and how you like to watch movies with me. I regret the way my stomach flips when I hear you moving around in your room in the morning, and I know I’m going to see you soon.” I rub my hand up his chest and over his neck. “And I regret that I look for you when I come in

to a room and how, after you leave for work in the morning, I have to get myself off in the shower again, because I can’t stop fantasizing about you and it gets me too turned on to wait for you to come home.”

His abs flex as he arches up a little, pressing his cock against me.

“And I regret that I would do nothing different,” I go on. “I couldn’t not feel this.”