Page 88 of The Very First Night

“Uh-huh.”

“But…” He winces as he tugs at the shorts, trying to adjust for what is clearly a tight fit. I can’t help but stifle a laugh at his predicament. “I’ll only wear these until Jenna takes her picture,” he explains, “then I’m switching to the pants that came with the costume. Frankly, I can’t feel my balls in these.”

“Well, unluckily for the rest of us, we can see everything you can’t feel right now,” Jenna snickers.

Tanner stands tall, unashamed of his exposed body. With a grin, he responds, “You’re welcome.”

Jenna turns to me. “Go get changed. Your costume is on your bed.”

I again feel a warm flutter in my chest at my roommates’ thoughtfulness. Despite my initial reluctance, my anticipation is building. I can’t wait to see what surprises and delights the evening will bring.

The moment I reach my bedroom and see the costume Jenna selected, I can’t help but smile from ear to ear.

FORTY-TWO

TANNER

I raise an eyebrow at Jenna as she squirms under my gaze, avoiding eye contact. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Jenna scratches her head and stammers out a denial, but her body language betrays her true feelings. I know she’s lying, and she knows that I know.

“Come on, Jenna,” I urge, using my most persuasive tone.

“Okay, fine! She guessed,” Jenna admits, unable to keep the secret any longer. It is no surprise to me—Jenna is terrible at keeping secrets. I was a little shocked she managed to hide the party-planning from Kat as long as she did.

We’ve been planning this day for weeks. Kat had been noticeably quiet about her birthday, and we knew we had to fix that. She deserves a great birthday, even if the devil incarnate insists on being home tonight. Like, seriously, why is it such a hard ask for you to stay at the Lambda house when you know your presence makes her uncomfortable?

Oh, right, it’s because you’re Elijah, and you are a self-centered, egotistical prick.

As if he can sense the tension in the room, Elijah saunters through the front door with a petite redhead on his arm. My stomach churns at the sight; seriously, what is wrong with this guy? In what world does it make sense to show up to your ex-girlfriend’s party—where it’s abundantly clear that no one wants you there—and bring another woman? It’s like he’s actively trying to ruin her birthday.

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to confront him and throttle him for even showing up here. It’s like he does this shit on purpose to hurt her, and I will not stand for it.

“Hey guys,” Elijah says with a confident grin on his face. Despite the clear instructions to wear a costume, he’s dressed in a simple red cable-knit sweater and dark jeans. It’s a stark contrast to the short redhead clinging to his bicep like it’s her lifeline, who is dressed in a tight, bright purple dress that barely covers her ass.

In any other situation, I wouldn’t even bat an eye at the display of skin and blatant disregard for the theme of the party. But this? This is Elijah being calculated. He’s always calculated, but this seems too far for even him.

I don’t even look at him before walking away. I can hear him scoff at my dismissal, but I really don’t give a fuck. I spent years pretending to like him for the sake of keeping face. But now, after all the shit he’s pulled with Kat, dude can get fucked.

Despite the clear awkwardness of the situation, Marcus appears at my side with his pirate hat and sword and a grin plastered on his lips. “Are you a…stripper?” he asks, inspecting my bare legs.

“Reno 911!” I reply flatly, too irritated to indulge anyone.

Attention soon shifts away from Elijah and the girl he brought the moment Kat descends the stairs. Jenna had said she had Kat’s costume covered and that it had something to do with Taylor Swift, but otherwise I know nothing. Now, as Kat reaches the bottom of the stairs, grinning from ear to ear, I’m confident Jenna made the exact right choice.

Kat is wearing a white T-shirt with block lettering spelling out the words “NOT A LOT GOING ON AT THE MOMENT” in all caps. Atop her head sits a black flat-brim hat, and covering her ass is a mouthwatering pair of tight black yoga-style shorts. Admittedly, the outfit doesn’t make a lick of sense, but judging by Jenna’s squeal of delight, I’m almost positive it’s a matter of me just not getting the reference.

Once Jenna is done fawning over Kat, she approaches me quietly. “Were you able to get the cake?” she whispers.

“Yeah, I picked it up a couple hours ago. It’s in the fridge.”

“Perfect. Go grab it and I’ll bring everyone into the kitchen.”

I do as Jenna tells me, drill sergeant that she is, and struggle to walk back to the kitchen in my horrible shorts.

Grabbing the crisp white box from the fridge, I lift the lid to inspect the cake for damage before closing it again. The amount of effort that went into acquiring the same cake Kat’s mom has been getting for her birthday since she was a kid far exceeded what I anticipated. Luckily, my mom was more than happy to assist me in getting it from Kat’s mom and driving halfway to Kent for me to pick it up.

Everyone begins filtering into the kitchen. As Kat walks into the room, she gasps, her eyes immediately drawn to the familiar cake box sitting on the table. Her fingers reach out and trace the smooth white cardboard, taking a moment to linger on the familiar logo as a small smile forms on her lips. With a gentle lift of the lid, she reveals a perfectly baked chocolate cake covered in rich chocolate frosting and embellished with delicate pink letters spelling out “Happy Birthday Kat!”

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