Page 75 of Hard to Love

“Happy birthday,” she whispers with a sheepish shrug.

I blink several times at her, more than aware that it’s not my birthday, but the last thing I want to do is hurt her feelings, especially when she went to so much trouble.

“I—”

“I know it’s not your real birthday,” she explains. “I mean, I wish it were though because then this would all be easier.”

“You lost me.” I chuckle and take another lick of frosting.

“I wanted to do something nice for you. I was fishing for a reason to celebrate something so I could make you your favorite. I asked Faith when your birthday was. She said it was at the end of next month and since I’m not going to be here then”—she clears her throat and I wonder if those words, that thought, bugs her as much as it does me— “I thought we could celebrate it now. Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yep.” She gives a resolute nod.

“You’re serious?”

“Does your kitchen look like I’m serious?”

I laugh and just shake my head at her. “Take that, Cards O’ Fun,” I murmur and smother her laugh with my lips.

STEVIE

“SO WHEN ARE YOU COMING home?” Vivi whines and pouts across the Zoom connection.

“I’m thinking after the Open. I have three weeks left here, then the Open, so . . . four or five weeks.” I take a sip of my wine and lean back on my headboard, more than happy to see her face.

“We’d offer to come and cheer for you at the tournament, but I think big-shot agent man would draw the line.”

“Well, big-shot agent man doesn’t own me.” I chuckle at the nickname.

“He may not own you, but he sure as hell has you twisted up in knots.” A smug smile spreads on her lips as she stares at me, daring me to refute her.

“Whatever,” I play it off. “He does not.”

“Are you forgetting the fact that I know you, Stevie Lancaster? I know that you avoid me when you don’t want to tell me the truth, and girl, my texts have been going unanswered for days on end.” She lifts her eyebrows and just stares at me. “There is no shame in finishing what you started that first night you met, but it seems since then, the two of you have made your own Cards O’ Fun to live out.”

I fight my smile and give in with a shrug. “Perhaps.”

“Ahh,” she murmurs and studies me longer.

“So, you’re living in his house, training nearby, and living the quiet life all while sleeping with him in between the day-to-day stuff, right?”

My mind immediately shifts to highlight reels of the past few days. My horrible carrot cake with its layer that slid off the other, and how he laughed when I brought him the candlelit disaster. Of the sex in his shower that was full of soapy hands and delicious kisses. Of the stolen kiss on the patio this morning before he took a conference call. Of how I caught him looking at me across the room the other day with a soft smile.

“Something like that,” I finally answer.

“And when the Open comes, you’re going to be perfectly fine just walking away from the built-in sex and the seeing each other every day that you’ve grown accustomed to?”

I take a sip of wine to buy myself the time to answer. Finn’s voice booms down the hallway through my closed door as he talks on the phone with a client about something. Will I miss that constant reminder of his presence even though we aren’t actually interacting with each other? Will I hear him humming as he does every morning when that first sip of coffee hits his tongue? Will I fall asleep on couches from now on because it’s easier for us to do that than to broach the subject of how we can have sex together but aren’t sure if we should sleep in the same bed?

“I’m waiting while you’re stalling.”

I laugh, loving her, missing her, and hating how well she knows me all at the same time. “We’re just enjoying the time we have.”

“So that means neither of you have really talked about it.” She gives a dramatic eye roll.

“That means why talk about it when it’s not going to change anything? I’m here to train, then I’ll move on with my life. He’s kind of put his life on hold and he has to get back to it. It is what it is.”