I quickly shove the narrow envelope into my back pocket.
Josh eyes me suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“Oh, just a bill.” I wave my hand and dart into my room, shoving it into the drawer of my nightstand.
There’s a pause, then I hear the doubt in his reply. “A bill…right.” His tone is edged with suspicion. By the time I return to the kitchen, he’s already shaking his head and unloading groceries onto the counter.
I told him when he first got here, he doesn’t need to pay me any rent but if he wanted to help by keeping our fridge stocked, that would be awesome. He’s taken that job very seriously.
“That’s…a lot of fruit,” I say, my lips quirking.
“I have been feeling like we’re eating too much takeout.” He pats his flat stomach. “I thought we could start our mornings with fruit smoothies. I might’ve gotten a little overzealous.”
I let out a low whistle as I scan the items on the counter. Josh got oranges, apples, bananas, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, peaches, and fresh cherries. I walk over and pick a cherry off the bunch, popping it in my mouth and removing the pit with my tongue.
Josh watches, amused.
“I love cherries,” I say, my lips seductively curving around the words.
“I remember.” Josh’s eyes lock with mine.
“I used to be able to?—"
“Tie the stem in a knot with your tongue.” Josh and I finish the sentence simultaneously, and my neck heats instinctively.
“I was really proud of that,” I say wistfully.
“Oh, I know you were.” Josh chuckles, stepping closer to me. He tugs my hips closer to his and wraps me in a hug. “Someone has a birthday coming up this weekend,” he murmurs in my ear.
I groan. “Don’t remind me. I don’t want to turn forty-two.” I lean into his chest and take a deep breath.
“Why?” Josh pulls back to look at me, concern etched in his features. “You used to love your birthday.”
I let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, but the older I get, the more I’m reminded of everything I don’t have—haven’t achieved. I’d rather treat it like any other day.” I pull away from him and move into the living room, plopping on the couch.
“Hey now,” Josh says from his spot in the kitchen. “You have done a lot in your forty-two years. Don’t discount yourself.”
I shift so I’m lying on the couch and cover my eyes with my forearm. “Whatever.”
Josh chuckles as he passes me on his way to the bathroom. “Well, don’t make any plans for Saturday night.”
* * *
By four o’clock on Saturday,I have still not acknowledged my birthday. I ignored my dad’s phone call and couldn’t bring myself to listen to him singing “Happy Birthday” on my voicemail, instead settling for reading the transcription. I’m sitting on the couch, scrolling TikTok when Josh comes out of the bathroom, a towel around his trim waist and toweling off his honey blond hair with a hand towel.
“You need to get dressed,” he tells me, walking into the kitchen and pulling a cold water bottle out of the fridge. “We have plans.”
“Josh.” I give him a pointed look. “I told you, this is just any other Saturday.”
Josh lets out a slow puff of air. “Well, are you going to call all your friends and cancel or am I? Because we’ve got a very special birthday dinner to attend, and it won’t make much sense without the birthday girl.”
I groan, standing. “You really didn’t have to do this.” I fight back the grin that threatens to spill the gratitude I can’t quite say out loud.
“I wanted to,” Josh says, walking around the couch to meet me. He pulls me close and plants a soft kiss on my lips. Then, turning serious, “You mean so much to me, Mel.”
I sigh. “You mean a lot to me too, Josh,” I admit, ignoring the nagging in my chest reminding me that we still haven’t talked about what happens after August. And since August is tomorrow, I’d really like to have a conversation about it. Yet, in true Melanie fashion, I haven’t had the courage to bring it up. “What should I be wearing to this thing?”
Josh grins. “That’s my girl. I made reservations at Harpoons. Everyone is coming so… whatever you’d wear there?”
