Page 27 of Played

I grin. “We could have gotten together tomorrow night, Ethan. Why the fuss?”

He searches my eyes and then he kisses my lips. His voice is low and soft. “Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday today?”

I tilt my head and sigh. “How did you find out?”

He pulls me close to him, eyes on mine, gaze warm and soft. “Answer the question.”

“Because I know that you like to keep things low key between us, Ethan. I’m going out with friends tonight, and I knew that you wouldn’t want to be a part of that. I didn’t want you to feel bad or excluded. It’s not a big deal.”

He leans his forehead on mine, staying silent, closing his eyes, as if battling with himself on something. “God, I love you.”

It's the first time he’s ever said it. Well, the first time he’s said it for real. He said it when I gave him an ice cream cake, but I know he didn’t mean it then, like he does now. “I love you, too, Ethan.”

“I want to do something for you for your birthday.” He says, as if chiding himself.

“Well, we can do something tomorrow night. It’s okay.”

“But tomorrow’s not your birthday.”

“So? How many people celebrate on their actual birthday?”

“Well, I do. And I feel awful not doing something for you today. I wish you had told me.” He says, and those words hit a nerve. I told him I love him, but what I should have done before that is told him the truth. Part of me is just so happy to hear those three words for the first time from a man, and the other part of me is kicking the first part of me in the ass.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to come with me tonight? The girls would love to finally meet you.”

He exhales and kisses my forehead. “No. I don’t want to crash your party, either. That would be equally shitty. Besides, I’ve got a meeting in a half an hour, and I have no idea how long it’s going to last.”

“So, come after.” I shrug.

“How about I come over after you get home? Assuming you won’t be stone cold drunk by then.”

I smile. “I might. And Trudy’s staying the night. They’ve ordered a limo, which will be here in an hour, and the girls are meeting me here.”

“A sleepover.” He nods, as if mulling it over.

“Aye. If all goes well, all of them will be camping out on my floor tonight, some in the bathroom, some not.” I chuckle.

“Okay.” He sighs. “But I'm making it up to you tomorrow, no buts about it.”

“I’m game for that. What do you want to do?”

“Anything you want. Assuming you’re not too hung over.” He chuckles. “You think about it and let me know.”

I nod. “Okay.”

He kisses me. “I should go. I’ve got that meeting and you’ve got to finish getting ready, not that you don’t look fucking perfect as you are.”

I smile. “How is it you know exactly the right thing to say?”

He shrugs modestly. “I don’t know. I just speak the truth.”

I repress the feeling of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. I want to tell him I love him again, wanting so desperately to be that couple that says ‘I love you’ all the time, but I know that that’s not happening, so I kiss him again.

“Happy Birthday, Freya.”

“Thanks.”

He kisses me again before leaving.

---