Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He leans back and brings his hands around, revealing a wrapped package in one hand and a gift bag in the other, both branded with confetti surrounding bold Happy Birthday text. His expression shifts from playful to concerned, and I’m sure it’s because of how stunned I am; I can’t do anything other than stand there, dumbfounded.
“Are you mad? Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad. I just wasn’t expecting this. Like, at all.”
“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure since you didn’t mention it, but I wanted to do something. Go ahead, open it.”
I take the gift, giddy with an excitement that reminds me of when I was eight years old and hoping it’d be the toy I’d asked Father for. A few tears into the paper reveal a Moleskine journal—like one of those journals where I used to keep all my secrets.
As my gaze shifts to him, a tear slides down my cheek.
Fuck, where did that come from?
I turn away and bat at it quickly, and when I turn back to him, I can tell he’s caught on.
“Sorry. Maybe that was a shit idea. If you’d wanted me to know about your birthday, I’m sure you would have mentioned it.”
“No, no. It’s not that I’m upset. It’s a very thoughtful gift.” I hug the journal close to my chest. “Thank you.”
His smile returns. “Well, it’s not over yet.”
He reaches into the gift bag and takes out a cupcake with a candle on it. Setting the bag on a nearby shelf, he retrieves a gas lighter from the bottom of the bag and sparks it, lighting the wick.
“Didn’t know what kind of cake you’d want, so I stuck with vanilla with chocolate frosting. Felt safe.”
“Did you make this?”
“Yeah. Remember last night when I said I was gonna call my aunt and sis?”
“You sneaky devil.”
He beams. “So vanilla with chocolate frosting is a win?”
I laugh. “It’s perfect.”
“Okay, now give me one sec.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket and hits a few keys before putting it on speaker.
There’s a pause before I hear two voices singing “Happy Birthday.” As he displays the screen for me, I realize what’s going on. It’s his sister and aunt on FaceTime. He sings along with them—well, not really singing, or at least not well, but it’s got me blushing. As they reach the end of the song, he says, “Make a wish.”
I haven’t made a birthday wish in a very long time, and I fear that even thinking my wish will jinx it, but in the shed with him, his bright eyes on me while his face is still red from singing, I brave it before blowing out the candle.
His aunt and Charity applaud.
“Yay!” Charity says. “And don’t blame Jonas for this. He was telling me about you, and I told him I had to meet you!”
“It’s nice meeting you too,” Amy says.
“I wanted to meet you both too,” I say. “And it’s the perfect day for it.”
“I’m just glad Jonas texted us before he gave you his present,” Charity says, sounding a little annoyed, “because the plan was for later tonight, but you’ll learn that my brother is terrible at surprises.”
“Sorry,” Jonas says. “Got a little overexcited.”
“I hope I get to meet you in real life at some point, Ryan,” Charity says.
“Yes, you should come visit us in Chicago,” Amy adds.
Now Jonas is blushing. “Okay, okay. I think we’ve had enough of a distraction for now.”
“For now,” Charity says. “But, Ryan, give me a call, and I’ll give you all the gossip on my brother.”
Jonas groans. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Of course, it’s obvious he’s only playing, and it means a lot to me that he introduced me to them on a special day.
As he catches up with his family, I find it difficult not to look at him in awe. He hasn’t known me long, yet he couldn’t have made my birthday more perfect if he tried.
When he hangs up, he says, “That might have been too much. But they really wanted to meet you since I can’t shut up about you when they call.”
“It was wonderful getting to meet them, Jonas. I appreciate that you care enough about me to share that part of your life. They seem as amazing as you’ve said.”
He smiles. “Well, in that case, I hope you wished for another kiss.”
Then he offers one.
But the truth is, I wished for many more.
And as fun as it was to play the childish game, it brings forth the awareness I try to hide from myself: that I have to enjoy this while it lasts.
When he starts to lean back, I grab the back of his head and press my lips tighter against his. He submits, our tongues clashing, our breath matching.
I finally release the back of his head, and he pulls away. “Okay, well, maybe I don’t regret doing this after all.”