I let my hair fall down my back and gently tug on the necklace, feeling it’s secure.
Iris walks in. “Happy eighteenth,” she says in a sing-song voice.
“Thank you!” I reply.
Iris, who’s in her fifties and from the Philippines, has been working for us since Misty and I were little. She helps around the house three days a week with cleaning, laundry, cooking, and looking after us. She’s petite, with an exotic appearance—black hair, olive skin, and dark-brown oval eyes.
“What cake would you like for tonight?” Iris asks.
I salivate as I think about it.
Misty snorts. “I thought you would have made the cake by now.”
Iris narrows her eyes, but her lip twitches like she’s smothering a smile. “I can’t, and it’s because of you, that’s why!”
Misty’s mouth falls open. Her hand goes to her chest. “Who! Me?”
“Yes, you! You little pig!”
Misty’s cackle is loud. She turns to me, then makes a point of snorting even louder.
Iris laughs. “You can’t help yourself. I wasn’t baking two cakes because you couldn’t keep your hands off of it.”
“It’s not my fault!” she complains.
Iris’s brows lift high on her forehead. “Then whose fault is it?”
“Yours!”
Mom walks through the kitchen as I’m giggling, listening to them bicker.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Mom says before walking to me and placing a tender kiss on my forehead.
I smile at her.
“Your father said to say happy birthday. Something came up at work this morning, but he said he’ll come home when he can.”
I bob my head in acknowledgment. Then my attention drifts back to Misty and Iris.
“How is it my fault?” Iris asks.
“You’re a damn good cook. I’ve had really bad cravings lately. I just can’t resist your food.”
Iris laughs and places her hand on Misty’s head, then messes up her hair.
“Hey!” Misty whines as she attempts to flatten it.
“Can I have a chocolate cake, but with a layer of chocolate cream and fresh strawberries?” I ask Iris.
“That sounds yummy!” Misty chimes in.
“I’ll go get the ingredients this morning,” Iris replies. She turns to Mom. “Do you need anything else for tonight?”
“Audrey’s organized catering for the party, so we should be fine. But thank you.” Mom turns to me. “You’ll have to wait to get your birthday present from us when your dad gets home.”
Knox and Kane barge into the kitchen like it’s their own home. Our parents were really tight and our families were inseparable. But then, things changed when their parents split. However, it didn’t mess up our bond with the boys—or the connection between Misty and Kane or me and Knox. We’re all still as close as ever!
My eyes wander up and down Knox’s body. He’s wearing a fitted black shirt that shows off his chest and broad shoulders, ripped black jeans, and black boots. Knox is that total package of deliciousness. It’s not just his face and build that draw me to him but also that bad-boy swagger he wears so well. That moody behavior he has toward everyone except me.
