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“Please, birthday girl.”

That gets me off the couch.

The kitchen lights are low, just the pendants over the island casting warm pools across the shiny counter. Bishop opens the refrigerator and pulls out a small cake box.

I stop right next to him. “What is that?”

“Protein.”

“Liar.” I bite my lip in anticipation.

He sets it down and lifts the lid to reveal a dark chocolate flourless cake with a glossy dark chocolate ganache across the top—my favorite.

For a second, I don’t say anything. The sweet smell of chocolate hangs in the air.

“You got me a cake?”

“It’s your birthday. I know it’s not your mom’s special dark chocolate cake, but it’s the best I could do without driving to Evergreen.”

“How did you know?”

“I’m not a complete idiot.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I know you think I don’t notice you, but trust me, Laney. I notice.”

Something in my chest squeezes.

He opens a drawer. “I also got these.”

He turns around holding two tiny pink candles—a two and three.

I laugh. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“They’re pink.”

“That’s generally how colors work.”

“You bought me pink birthday candles?”

“The only other options were black or rainbow.”

“And that was unacceptable?”

“Didn’t match the aesthetic.”

I stare at him. I know Hayes Bishop did not just use the word aesthetic in a sentence.

He pauses. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you looking at me like that? You love pink. Pink notebooks, pink lip gloss, pink vib–”

“Okay, that’s enough.” I turn toward him and press my hand over his mouth to shut him up, but the second his lips brush my palm, I quickly pull it away.

His dimples appear as he flashes me a wicked grin.

“Come here, Baby Becks.”