Page 26 of Pretty Broken Things

I try and dodge him, but he’s a top athlete. I make it a couple of steps before he opens his hand and blows the flour all over me. There’s flour in my hair, my eyelashes, and all over my clothes. Wiping at it only manages to spread it further.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I say, trying not to laugh.

“What the hell happened here?” Shane asks, surprising us both by his sudden appearance.

“Aww,” Lydia gushes. “Are you making her a cake?”

“Poorly,” Ford admits.

Lydia cocks her head to the side. “I would never have believed Ford would be baking a cake if I didn’t see it myself, and even now my brain is struggling to understand. There’s only one reason I could even imagine him attempting it.”

Shane exchanges a strange look with Ford, but it only lasts a split second. Unless I’m misreading him, it seems like he’s just figured something out. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” I tell him.

He pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “Fuck that. We’re throwing you a party.”

I’m shaking my head before he even finishes speaking. “No way. You guys have a game tomorrow.”

Shane pats the top of my head, releasing a cloud of flour. “I know you’re an adult now, but you’re not an old lady yet. It’s like six at night. Ford and I won’t drink, and it will just be the gang. Now,” he shoos me out of the kitchen, “go get cleaned up.”

He examines Ford. “Both of you. Lydia and I will get this sorted.”

Shane’s expression prevents me from arguing with him. I learned my lesson when I stupidly thought I’d throw my weight around and get Ford to bend to my will. Behind his playful exterior is a deep well of darkness. Oddly, I think I like him better because of it. He’s more complex than people give him credit for. At least people not part of this group of misfits.

“There’s a shower in the guest room at the end of the hallway.” I direct Ford to the spare bedrooms. “Everything you need should be in there. For some reason Constance, my housekeeper, keeps them stocked, as if this house isn’t perpetually empty.”

“Not tonight,” he whispers.

Turning to Shane he says, “Tell everyone to bring a change of clothes. We’re crashing here tonight.”

I chuckle and give him a look. “Well played.”

He winks at me. “You asked me to stay. If I’m going to do that, we need chaperones.”

“So we’re having a giant, co-ed sleepover?” I ask.

“Relax, it’ll just be the six of us. Anyone else who comes over will have to go. You’re an adult now, you can have boys over if you want to,” Ford teases me.

He won this round. I’m not even sad about it. Quite the opposite. For the first time, I’m looking forward to my birthday.

* * *

During the timeI’m in my room getting cleaned up, apparently Shane and Lydia manage to organize a whole party. I try to rush when I hear voices start to drift up the stairs, but thanks to Ford showering me with flour, I’m forced to wash my hair twice. The first time creates a thick goopy paste. I start to panic, but take a deep breath and dump more shampoo on my head.

I hear my door creak open, and I shriek, trying to cover myself from view. For a second it occurs to me that it might be Ford, but he has been so adamant about us taking things slow, I doubt he’s changed his mind in the last thirty minutes. Besides, I don’t think I want the first time he sees me naked to be covered in a shampoo and flour paste.

“I’m gone for a few days and you’ve turned Ford into a lovesick puppy trying to make a cake?” Tracy says, entering my bathroom.

“It’s really good to see you, but I’d rather you weren’t seeing so much of me. Can you go wait in my room?”

Instead she props her hip on the counter, and crosses her arms. “Nah, consider it payback for watching me blow your man.”

I give up trying to convince her to leave. She’s going to do what she wants. “There is so much wrong with what you just said.”

Through the fog, I can see her smirking. “Whatever. He’s never claimed a girl, or tried to run off guys before.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think, but I should have realized—”

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