“That asshole,” Sophie says, shaking her head.
“Your dad?” I ask, confused. “I’m not sure Gabe lending mehis plane so I could come surprise you for birthday night qualifies as asshole behavior.”
“It isn’t, but this smells suspiciously like Gabe Sullivan fuckery. Wait a damn minute,” she mutters, pulling out her phone and unlocking it, typing furiously at the screen. Thirty seconds later, her phone dings and she chuckles, typing back a response. When the second message comes through, she snorts out a laugh. “He’s ridiculous.” She laughs, handing the phone to me with a grin.
Me
So the plane just happened to be in Pittsburgh instead of San Francisco on the very day Tyler needed a plane to get from Pittsburgh to San Francisco?
Dad
Of course not. I brought the plane to Pittsburgh the day you left for San Francisco because I knew you weren’t going to take the job, and there was a one hundred percent chance Tyler wasn’t going to be able to bear being separated from you on your birthdays.
I wanted to make sure he had a way to get to you fast.
Me
But why wouldn’t you just leave the plane right here where it was so I could get to him? Same result, smaller carbon footprint.
Dad
Because I knew that man was going to grand gesture the shit out of you, and you deserve that. You deserve everything, Soph, and Tyler wants to give it to you.
Emotion wells in my chest as I set the phone aside. “He’s right,” I say quietly, laying my hand on Sophie’s cheek. “Youdeserve the entire world, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving it to you.”
Sophie smiles, leaning in and kissing me. “I’m the luckiest,” she says against my lips, and when she tries to pull back, I wrap a hand around the back of her neck, keeping her close to me. “We’re the luckiest,” I murmur, bringing her mouth back to mine. The kiss is light and a little teasing and perfect in its sweetness. It’s the kind of kiss between two people who know there’s all the time in the world for longer, hotter kisses later, and I find I like that thought. Because all the time in the world with Sophie sounds exactly, perfectly right.
“I really could kiss you forever,” I say, my lips brushing hers. “But there’s half an hour left of this day, and there are serious birthday matters afoot.”
She grins, kissing my nose, and the laugh that bubbles up from my chest feels like glitter. “Show me what you got, Harry.”
Sitting up, I twist around, rooting through my bags. I pull out a small cooler filled with Dr Pepper and ginger ale, a bag of Sophie’s jelly beans, already mixed, assorted other snacks, and two small cupcake boxes, one pink and one purple.
“Okay,” I say, handing the pink box to Sophie and keeping the purple one for myself. “I really hate this, but I was on a tight timeline, and I didn’t have time to bake, so for the first time in eighteen years, I bought a cupcake from a store. Well, two cupcakes, because we each need to have one. The internet told me this store had the very best cupcakes in the entire city of Pittsburgh, but I have my doubts.”
Sophie laughs. “Mine definitely won’t be as good, but you’re coming out ahead in this scenario because my cupcake baking skills leave a lot to be desired.”
Reaching over, I run a hand down her cheek. “Your cupcakes are perfect, just like you.”
She snorts, reaching over and flipping open my box, looking down at the cupcake I bought for myself that does actually lookreally fucking good. “Now that’s what a Funfetti cupcake should look like.”
I shake my head. “I beg to differ, and because I missed out on your cupcake this year, next year, you’re making me two.”
When Sophie smiles, it lights up the entire room. “You really do love me.”
I grin right back, flipping open the box in her hands to reveal the extremely sad excuse for a chocolate cupcake with peanut butter frosting. Next year I’m totally upping my game to make up for this travesty in baked good form. “Baby, you have no fucking idea. On three?” I ask.
“On three,” she says, her smile widening to a grin.
“One.” At my count, we each take out our cupcake and toss the box to the side, removing the candle I stuck in each before the bakery boxed them up and licking off the frosting. My cock immediately hardens at the way Sophie’s tongue looks licking up the candle, and I wonder for the millionth time how it’s possible I was in the presence of this extreme hotness for all these years and didn’t notice. I’ll be spending the rest of my life making up for that unforgivable oversight, I swear to god.
“Two,” Sophie counts, and we both peel down the wrapper on one side.
“Three,” we say together, linking arms and taking a bite. It’s the same newlywed-like bite we’ve taken eighteen times now, but this is the first year I wonder what it would be like to link arms to take a bite of an actual wedding cake, and I find I like that thought. I like it a whole lot.
“I mean, it’s no Tyler Hansley cupcake,” Sophie says with her mouth full. “But it’s not bad.”
“This one sucks,” I declare, dropping it back into the box. “I never want a Funfetti cupcake you don’t make for the rest of my life.”
