He didn’t deserve half of my liver.
“Christian?” I feel her hands on my shoulders, the warmth and love of the touch searing through my shirt and imprinting on my skin.
I exhale a heavy breath that was suffocating me along with my thoughts. I hang my head between my shoulders and her hands run down my back, stopping at my rubs. “Christian.”
I sniff. “Yeah, baby.”
“Look at me.” Her hands hold onto me tighter. “Please.”
After a pause to gather myself, I face her, spinning with her hands still around my ribs. Slowly, tenderly, her hands smooth up my body while her eyes are soft and loving. Her perfect hands hold my face and there isn’t anything I have to say for her to know. And there isn’t anything she has to say to me, she just has to give me those eyes and put her skin on mine, and I read it perfectly—I love you.
“Sit,” Lana murmurs.
“Where?” My hands wrap around hers, lowering them slowly.
She jerks her chin at one of the stools at the other side of the island. “There. I have something for you.”
I take a seat and she opens the fridge, pulling out a smaller cake. With her back to me, she places a candle in its center, and grabs a lighter. Carefully, she rounds the island and sets the tiny cake in front of me.
I half smile. “What is this?”
“Our own birthday celebration,” she says quietly and her cheeks redden.
Still sexy at 27.
I laugh, reading it out loud, “‘Still sexy at twenty seven.’”
Lana shrugs, giggling. “Natalia made the cake for me. I wanted us to have something to celebrate with. After.”
I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her between my legs. “I love it,” I breathe and kiss her shoulder. “Thank you.”
Lana smiles, biting her lip, and lights the candle. “There. Make a wish.”
I smile down at the cake with vanilla frosting and yellow lettering, and can’t think of a thing to wish for. “I think I have everything.”
“You made a wish outside, make the same one.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t a real wish, it was just blowing out the candles for the pictures.”
Lana gapes at me. “I didn’t take a picture!”
I chuckle. “Okay then take this picture.”
“You just said you have nothing to wish for.” She pouts.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t wish to keep what I have.”
She nods and breathes out, “Okay.”
Lana gets to the opposite side of the island and takes out her phone. She holds it up with a smile and says, “Make a wish, Christian.”
I smile over the candle, and she takes the first picture. I close my eyes, and she takes another.
Lana and me.
I blow out the candles, and Lana takes another picture.
When I open my eyes, she’s grinning. “Did you make arealwish, Christian?”
