“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up?”Iwhispered into her hair.
She shrugged. “Noone ever celebrates it anyway.”
Before she could say another word,Aurorawas peeled off me byWhitney’shusband.Hisrubber duck swim trunks and high-visCrocswere bright enough that they could guide ships to port.Itwas a sharp contrast to the muscles and tattoos that covered every inch of his body.
“Wander!Happybirthday, you literary legend.Whata time to be alive, huh?Anothertrip around the sun and it’s gonna be a good one.Howdoes it feel to be kick ass at everything you do?Thehouse is banging andIjust finished reading one of your masterpieces.Honestly, it’s unfair for someone to be as talented as you are.You’refriggin’ dynamite.”
LikeIwas watching night turn to day, her emotion-filled expression lightened as laughter slipped from her lips. “I’vemissed you,Miles.”Shelet go of me just long enough to hug the six-foot-something wall of scary ass sunshine.
But what she probably intended as a quick side-hug,Milesturned into a back-cracking, feet-off-the-ground, spinning squeeze.
“You get used to him after a while,”Willowsaid as she sidled up to me. “So. . .Wanderreally had no idea the party was happening?”
“She didn’t even tell me it was her birthday.Ithought for sure she’d bring it up yesterday or this morning.”
A soft smile gracedWillow’smouth. “Shewants you to work for it.Notin a vain way.Shejust needs reassurance that she’s wanted, not tolerated.She’sprobably going to enjoy it, but she’ll shut down tonight when it’s all over.Don’tlet her push you out.She’sjust processing.”
“You a psychologist or something?”
Willow laughed. “It’swhat we do all day—dissect characters to find out what makes them tick.Ithink it tends to bleed into real life.Andit makes dating impossible.Noguy likes to be analyzed on a first date.”
Whitney took that moment to swoop in and steal the cake fromWillow.Thetwo of them set it up in the kitchen and started serving slices on appropriately themed birthday plates.
Food appeared out of hiding as the crew fromErnie’sset upAurora’sfavorites on the kitchen island.
Music started playing from somewhere and, beforeIknew it, we had a party.
* * *
“Hey, you,”Isaid whenIfoundAurorain the widow’s watch two hours later.Isqueezed into the cramped space and eased down beside her. “Whatchadoing, hiding at your own birthday bash?”
“I just needed a breather,” she admitted as the cone-shaped birthday hat slid to the side of her head. “I’mout of practice with people.”
I wrapped my arm around her. “What’dyou mean earlier when you said that no one celebrates your birthday?”
Aurora just shrugged. “Imean,Iget birthday texts and wishes, but no one’s ever gone out of their way to really do anything for it.Myex forgot my birthday the last two years we were together.WhenIturned thirty, he didn’t even get me a present.Ithurt.Iplayed it off and took myself out for some retail therapy, but ended up crying in my car.”Shetipped her head to the side, resting it on my shoulder. “Ican’t believe all these people showed up.Imean,Iknow they wanted to see the house, but?—”
“There’s no open house,”Isaid asItucked her into my side. “Itwas a convenient little lie so you’d let me help you clean up the paint cans and stage the rooms.Sobefore you go telling yourself any different, everyone came because it’s your birthday and they wanted to celebrate you.Noother reason.”Ireached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Andjust so you don’t thinkI’ma jackass like your ex,Igot you a birthday present.”
She took the slip from me and unfolded it. “What’sthis?”
“That isyourWi-Fipassword.”
It took a moment to sink in. “You. . .”Aurorablinked. “YouhadWiFiinstalled here?”
“Drew came over to oversee the installation whileWhitney,Willow, andMilesset up for the party.Thatwas what the hardware trip was for this morning.Ihad to get you out of the house for a few hours.”
Aurora stammered. “But—but that’s so expensive.AndI’mselling the house and leaving.”
My heart sank. “Youdon’t have to remind me,Roar.I’mperfectly aware.Ijust figured . . . for as long as you’re here . . . it’d make writing easier.Youdon’t have to sit on my property or wait for me to get home or hope the connection is strong enough to reach over here.”
She cut me off by throwing her arms around me. “Thankyou,” she croaked. “Jack—I. . .”Shesucked in a sharp breath. “Idon’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay.”
It was a cruel joke to even ask, butIhad to.
“You knowIcan’t,” she whispered, but it was carried away by the wind.
