“You know she has suspects already.”
He grimaces. “If she has any that are as old as this idea, I’m not sure I want to know who they are.”
I decide to test my luck. I’ve always been able to get more out of him than most. “But you’re, like, old school romantic. I’ve never understood why you only do casual. It made sense for Chase, not you so much.”
He groans, but not as if he’s frustrated with me. “I don’t know, Eas. I’m very selective. I like my life, and if I’m gonna shake things up, it’s got to be with someone who fits. Not just with me, but with everyone. That’s not easy to find.”
“Especially when you already have someone in mind and don’t want to give anyone else an opportunity.”
“Enough out of you, demon girl. But think about it. I don’t live a small life. Even with my present living situation excluded, I still live next to my best friend and little brother. There are Adlers coming and going all the fucking time, and when there isn’t, we go there. It’s not so much that I don’t have room for a love life, but it’s not worth it if I have to give that stuff up. Tell me it wouldn’t fuck up your head if I got a girlfriend that didn’t want us hanging out as much or got weird when Blake is home.”
My nose wrinkles in disgust. “Point taken. We’ve missed enough. Whoever she is, she’d have to fit.”
He’s visibly relieved when the conversation moves on, and I’m really starting to give Blakely’s theory merit. It’s not until after we’re stuffed full of tacos and cinnamon rolls that I realize that they’ve successfully distracted me from worrying about how tonight will go. They don’t need to be told; it’s just something they do. Loving me thoroughly when I need a little extra.
CHAPTER 34
EASTON
I’ve reached a concerning level of panic that I’ve never experienced before—eerily calm. My brain logically knows that the danger is over; Aaron is in custody and Asher is receiving some much-needed medical care in the hospital. The guillotine that has been hanging over my head since I was sixteen years old has suddenly been dismantled. There’s no hope of taking time to process this properly because the show—myshow—starts in just a couple of hours.
“Happy birthday,” Chase says, appearing from the hallway to lean in the doorframe. His gorgeous eyes lock with mine in the full-length mirror that I’m fretting over my outfit in. “How’d that line go? The one Parker left in a voice note this morning. Isn’t it fun turning twenty-one?”
I smile. Parker sure can make me laugh. Most people would go with the typical happy birthday song, but not him. “It’s supposed to be fun turning twenty-one. Statement, not question. But you’ve got the right general idea.”
Chase shrugs, grin creeping up at his full lips. “So is it fun then?”
“I’ll report back when I know for sure.”
He slinks over like a panther, sliding his hands around my hips. I melt. “You look fucking incredible,” he murmurs, attaching his lips to my neck.
I had something cheeky to say, but it now escapes me. As long as he keeps sucking on my pulse like that, maybe it will be fun turning twenty-one. “That feels so good.”
He hums against my flesh, and I feel the vibration all over. We’re going to be late. Honestly, we’re lucky no one has come looking for us yet. But he slips his hand to caress my rapidly hardening cock over the fabric of my pants, and I don’t care about any of that. Chase continues the kiss and nip torture at any exposed skin he can find.
A loud bang startles me, but has him chuckling against me. “Come on, slowpokes. We gotta get a move on,” my brother calls.
“Damn,” Chase groans. “Almost got away with it.”
I laugh because what else am I going to do? “Better luck next time.”
He smiles into one last kiss before heading Brady off so I have a minute to calm myself back down. After one last examination, I decide there’s nothing I can pick apart so I might as well give up trying.Styled by Blakely Ellisonhasn’t led me wrong yet and it’s not like there’s anything I can do about the startled deer look in my eyes.
After rolling my plastic bracelet a little higher so I can hide it under the cuff of my shirt and grabbing my phone, there’s nothing left but to find the three musketeers. “You look hot,” Blakely announces loudly when she spots me coming down the stairs.
“Right?” Chase doesn’t take his eyes off me for a second. Heat rushes up my face.
I mumble a half-assed thanks before reminding them that we should be heading out already. “The car just got here. After you, Mister Featured Artist.” Blake’s tone may be teasing, but pride isthreatening to burst from her seams. Rare is a day that even one person looks at me like that, much less three of them so far with many more to come later.
It was a bit naive to not think Margeaux would find this occasion worthy of making sure her entire bunch made it on a plane to be here for this. But of course, none of them are missing it. In fact, they insist on celebrating by taking me out for a legal drink and appetizers before the show. When I thought about all those birthday presents hiding in a closet for years, I knew that I had to give them the big family day they’ve been waiting for.
It’s been so long since I cared about this day passing, I almost forgot why it mattered. Mom and Dad never made a fuss about it, minus the annual cinnamon rolls. There were never parties with friends or extended family. Once Brady was old enough to drive, we would usually take off for a day at the beach for his birthday since it was in the summer. We would try and find an excuse to leave for mine. One year, we couldn’t really come up with anything so he treated me to an ice cream cone while I got lost in a sketchbook for however long I wanted. We must have sat in his truck for hours, just to have some peace and quiet.
I thought that was about as good as birthdays were going to get. Fifteen-year-old me would not have known what to do with me now with a hired car on the way to my own show.
Happy birthday, indeed.
Blake passes out glasses of champagne in the back seat. When they’re all handed out, she holds hers up with a smile. “A toast. To our darling birthday boy. Not only is today the very beginning of what I know will be an amazing career, but it marks something far more important. You’re now officially old enough to join us in our long history of poor decision making at sleazy bars.”
