“Ol’ Red stays where she is. I can’t give up that parking spot, because … well, you never know what could happen between us.” She shrugged.
“I’m confident when I say, I won’t be ending this anytime soon. But I understand where you’re coming from, and as longas you’re in my bed every night, and I know you’re safe, then I’m happy.”
“Are you sure you want me taking over your penthouse? I already own a section of your closet that I didn’t ask for.”
“That’s the thing, Avery, you’re never going to have to ask for a thing when it comes to me.”
Slipping her legs over me, she straddled my lap and ran her fingers through my hair. “You’re too good to me.”
“It’s about time someone is.”
Even with all of her praise, I knew deep down that even I would never be good enough for her. I would try my best, but in my eyes, she was so goddamn perfect that it was me who was lucky that she allowed me to take up space in her world.
“I have one more ask.” I ran my fingers along her lower back.
“That you want me to be your girlfriend?” she teased, but I decided not to take it as a joke.
“I hate to break it to you, but things are a little bit different in your forties, and I told you, you belong to me. However you want to word it, you’re mine.”
A smile beamed across her pink tinted cheeks, and it lit me up inside knowing that beingminewas the reason for her happiness.
“Noted. I’m yours. So, if that wasn’t the question, then what did you want to ask me?”
“What are you doing this weekend? I have a quick work trip to Denver, and I don’t want to spend a day without you. Come with me?”
“Wow. Temporarily living together, making things official, and now traveling together? Looks like things are getting pretty serious between us.” She winked and her laugh filled the open area around us, her bliss becoming my new favorite sound.
“I want to experience it all with you, baby. So, what do you say?”
“Well, there’s just one little problem.” She pinched her fingers together, gazing at me through them.
“Whatever the problem might be, I can fix it.”
“Lucky for you, I already have the weekend off from the pool. But I made plans with the girls. It’s my birthday on Saturday.”
Clearing my throat, I said, “We are going to circle back later to the fact that you are justnowtelling me your birthday is this week, but what are the chances they would understand if you rescheduled?”
“It would have to be somethingreallygood for them to understand me canceling.”
“Is a private jet a good enough reason?”
By the way her jaw fell to the floor and her laugh circled around me once more, there was only one thing to assume—her answer was without a doubt,yes.
Her laughter and jokes were all fun and games, but to me, the wordtemporarydidn’t exist, and little did she know, this was only the beginning of us.
In years past,my birthday hadn’t been a day to look forward to. Gifts were practically nonexistent, quality time was a daydream, and it was just another day to cross off on the calendar.
It wasn’t until the last few years that I chose to celebrate my turning of age. Even before I moved to Vegas, Jax never stepped up to the plate. Instead of helping me put a positive spin on the day and change how I looked at my birthday, he chose to ignore it all together.
“If you don’t find the joy in your birthday, then why would I?”He’d said for the last year or so we spent together.
I never found the energy to argue with him or to plead my case. I shouldn’t have had to beg someone to celebrate me, especially someone who claimed to love me. His mom worked a lot in the years I lived with them, and if her son didn’t celebrate me on my birthday each year, then I didn’t blame her for missing out on it either.
Every year, when Jax’s big day came around, I always made it known I was thinking of him—usually with something moreon the thoughtful end since I didn’t have the extra money lying around. I did for him what I could only dream of having done for me in future years.
It was easy to look into my past and think,“Why didn’t I cut that jackass loose earlier?”But it wasn’t as easy back then. I brainwashed myself into thinking he was my knight in shining armor. The man who saved me from my past. The man who came to my rescue and begged his mom to take me in so the foster care system wouldn’t whisk me away. For years, he was extraordinary to me—easily better than being in the house I grew up in. That was, until he showed me his true colors—his bad intentions. It wasn’t hard to see that therehadto be someone better out there for me.
Year after year, little by little, hope slipped from my fingertips. The hope of feeling special on a day that was supposed to be all about me. Hope that I’d find someone to prioritize me in the ways no one else ever had in my past. Hope that when someone said, “Happy birthday,” it could actually behappy.
