Page 42 of The Check Down

“Tomorrow.” I grin.

She jerks back, and my hand falls away. “What?”

“It’s tomorrow. October eighth.”

Blinking, she shakes her head. “Griffin. Your birthday istomorrow? Why didn’t I know this?”

“You’ve really never googled me?” I can’t help but puff out my chest.

“Your ego knows no bounds,” she scoffs. “And no, I don’t google my friends. Though apparently, I should so I’ll know when their damn birthdays are.”

Her dramatics make me grin. God, I love when sassy Brynn comes out to play.

“Wasn’t keeping it a secret, professor.” I cross my arms and look down my nose at her, holding back a smirk. “I can get Seth to type up a personal stats memo just for you, if you’d like.”

“Not necessary.” She turns on her heel and starts for the Whac-a-mole. “I’ll consult Google from now on.” She lifts her chin, haughty as fuck, and my pulse picks up. “So, any big birthday plans?” she asks as she hefts the mallet.

I wait to answer until she’s finished whacking the hell out of the elusive moles. Or trying to. She’s terrible at it, but she puts her all into it anyway.

“Some of the guys are taking me out tonight.”

She hands me the mallet and presses a token into the slot for my turn. Not one mole escapes my pounding.

“Ugh, show-off.” Her smirk melts into a smile. “So tonight is boys’ night, but what about tomorrow?”

“I’ve got practice.” I shrug. “Just another Wednesday.”

“What about your family?”

“They took me to dinner after the game on Sunday.”

“Hmm.” Her brows lower in concern. “We can’t let your real birthday pass without some kind of celebration.”

Warmth washes through me at the regard in her tone. “Why not?”

“Because,” she emphasizes. “Birthdays are a big deal. The day you were born is a big deal.”

“Your family goes big for birthdays, huh?”

She nods. “Yeah, they do.” The wistfulness in her voice makes my chest ache. That tone, though, is quickly replaced by one full of determination, and she wears an expression to match. “Can I cook dinner for you tomorrow?”

I jerk my chin up. “You cook?” We’ve only lived together for a handful of days, but I haven’t seen any evidence of Brynn being a closet amateur chef.

“I’m a terrible cook.” She winces. “Like, really awful.”

“But you want to cook dinner for me?”

Another nod. “Yes. I promise I won’t burn down your building.”

“All right, not-a-chef, make a birthday dinner to remember.”

Her answering smile hits me in the solar plexus. I’d probably let her burn down the fucking building if she’d promise me one of those smiles every day. Being with Brynn only makes me cravemore time with her. I’ve never in my life experienced a connection this deep with anyone in such a short time.

It’s fucking terrifying. An out-of-control sensation that I both hate and want.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time. “I have time for one more. What’s it gonna be, Lacey?”

“Oh? Big plans tonight?” I swallow down the panic threatening to choke me. If she tells me she has a goddamn date—

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