I let out a sigh of relaxation and pure relief as the warmth of the water soothes the various aches in my body. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Peaches.” He kneels on the floor next to the tub, bracing his forearms on the lip and propping his chin up. “Now that I’ve shared the potential issues coming our way, and we’ve taken care of you, should I tell you what might actually be fun about tonight?”
I cock my head to the side, studying the playful boyish excitement crossing his face. “Whatever it is, if it makes you smile like that, I like it.”
He wriggles his brows. “It’s Cannon’s birthday.”
“Oh my god, why didn’t he say it was coming up?”
Archer shrugs. “No idea, except he hadn’t found a ton of reasons to celebrate in the past. But this year, maybe he’ll feel differently.”
Hoping I know why, but not quite able to believe it, I whisper, “Why?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re here. And you’re what he’s always needed. You’re what we’ve all needed.”
I huff out a small laugh, unable to stop the grin that’s forming. “Really?”
“You bet your sweet ass.” He glances down for a quick second before he looks back up, meeting my eyes with his silvery gray gaze. His teeth sink softly into his lip, a blush hitting his cheeks as he tilts his head to the side. “So, will you help me make cupcakes or what?”
Ready to tease him, I roll my eyes a bit. “You assume I can bake?”
He cocks a knowing eyebrow at me. “I figure you understand the importance of the measurements that go into something so precisely scientific as baking.”
My lips twitch with laughter. “Actually, I can make a mean batch of cupcakes from a boxed mix, no problem. And I even have a recipe for homemade buttercream frosting, if you want me to do that.” I hesitate. “You’re sure he’ll be okay with it?”
“If it’s you, yeah. For sure.” He winks. “You’re our sunrise and sunset and everything in between, Peaches. I hope one day soon you figure that out.”
A warm, tingly feeling works its way through my chest. “I feel that way about you guys, too.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
CANNON
So far,so good. With the exception of Archer’s discovery of the intruder in the house—not that I’m fucking convinced it wasn’t someone fromwithinthe house—my birthday has been quiet. We’d hit campus this morning for our classes, then I’d worked out at the gym for a couple hours. Elliot made me promise not to peek in the kitchen when I came home. I have no idea what she’s planned, but I could tell from the gleam in her eye and the rather covert signals that’d passed between her and Archer that they’re up to something.
Jogging up the steps to the front porch, I say a silent prayer that for once we can have a night of peace and quiet. I should hope that I deserve it. I can’t help but pull a face because no matter what’s been planned, there’s a good chance I’ll have to deal with some sort of asshole behavior. Elliot won’t blame me if I go off, but I’m going to do my fuckin’ best not to blow a gasket at anyone tonight so I don’t ruin my own birthday. But as I reminded all of them this morning, it’s not as if I’ve forgotten any of the antics happening in this brotherhood. I’d rather keep it just the four of us, but it’s difficult to exclude brothers from events occurring at Hawthorne Hall. So, fuck it. We’ll grill steaks and veggie kabobs out on the pool patio and chill out for a bit. Everything will be fine.
Yet memories of birthdays past, whether my own or other people’s, plague me, eating away at logical thought. I really shouldn’t allow myself to get so stuck on shit that happened years ago, but it affects me to this day. Kingston and Archer are more than aware I had a rough go of it as a child, and I’ve been slowly opening up to Elliot about it, too. There was one particularly humiliating experience at the age of eight when I attended a classmate’s birthday party at a bowling alley. I had a fuckin’ seizure and dropped to the floor right as the birthday boy was throwing his bowling ball. I’m haunted by the reaction of the kids and the parents alike. In my head, I still hear the things they were saying about me as I regained consciousness. It made me not like most humans very much.
But even worse were my own birthdays, when none of the kids invited showed up. Or if they did, they were horrified that they were among only a few and found an excuse to leave early. It’s a sad, sad thing for a child to realize no one wants to celebrate them. I eventually requested that my mother not try to throw parties anymore. I think she was secretly relieved.
Anyway, it’s not a wonder I’m such a homebody. Class, gym, home. That’s about it. Can’t drive myself anywhere, anyway.
I grimace, knowing this is the wrong attitude to have, yet unable to stop myself.Fuck.We’re supposed to be having a birthday party, not a fuckin’ pity party. I blow out a hard breath and give myself an equally hard mental shake.
And then I walk into the kitchen despite the strict instructions not to because I know that’s where I’ll find Elliot. Things are better now because of her. She’s like a breath of fresh air and a balm to my heavy heart. She’s looked past my problems and has soothed the beast inside. He still exists, the one who’d been clawing his way through life, searching for someone he could trust. But he’s calmed now, the object of his obsession within his reach. All my old hurts are forgotten the moment I lay eyes on her—the girl who’s changed everything for me.
My gaze drifts over the entire scene as I stand at the entryway to the kitchen, watching her dab frosting on Archer’s nose and laugh at the shocked face he makes.Cupcakes.She made me cupcakes. My heart constricts in my chest as those dark eyes meet mine, and she gives me a little smile that’s laced with a tiny bit of dismay that I’ve caught her—all of them, actually—doing something to surprise me.
Kingston glances up just as he shoves an unfrosted bit of cupcake into his mouth. His brows raise, and he points at me, shaking his head as he chews.
“Cannon!” Elliot huffs in protest, despite the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You weren’t supposed to come in here, remember?”
“I bet he already had figured out what we were up to.” Archer winks at me from beside Elliot, swiping his fingers over the tip of his nose to make sure he’s cleaned it of all the frosting.
As if it buzzed in his pocket, Archer withdraws his phone and quickly glances at it before shoving it away again. His lips pinch tight for a split second. I’d have missed it if I’d blinked. And judging from their relaxed expressions, neither Elliot nor Kingston saw what I did.
Before I can say anything, Archer slips his happy-go-lucky mask back down over his features and continues. “I had the idea to make the cupcakes, but Elliot’s taken on the execution of it. I’m just the sous chef. Or is it a sous baker? Is that a thing?” He gives us a smile, either clearly amused at himself or trying like hell to hide something.
