Page 185 of Pucking Obsessed

My eyes glint with determination. “Sixth time lucky.”

Today’s the day.

I edge the heavy lid of the piano stool open, peering with satisfaction at the elegant, silver box.

“Happy birthday,” Eden calls from the doorway.

“Shit.” I drop the lid, yelping as it narrowly misses my fingers.

I fall backward onto my ass.

Am I flashing Eden in a sexy or humiliating way?

I flush, pulling my t-shirt down.

Eden arches his pierced brow. “Why are you rolling around on the floor?”

“Why are you carrying that by yourself?” I retort.

Deflection is my friend.

I hurriedly scramble to my feet and rush across the lounge to Eden.

Eden is dressed in nothing but a pair of gray joggers. His sling and bandages are more obvious like this, as if the medals of honor for a warrior.

He has bruises that make me frown with worry because I don’t know when he got them.

Was it when Heine scratched his wrist?

Neither D’Angelo nor Eden have told me in detail what happened in that mansion’s room.

What happens in a billionaire’s playroom, stays in a billionaire’s playroom…

It seems to have made them closer than ever.

“Eden has my back,” D’Angelo simply said. Then he added, “Also, can we get him some therapy about not killing people?”

“We could try,” I agreed. “I don’t think that it’ll work.”

Now, Eden is balancing a cake box on one hand and breaking Cody’s clear instructions by using his arm, which should be resting, to steady it.

“Let me help with that.” I take the heavy cake box from Eden.

I take a deep sniff of the strawberry and chocolate aroma. “It smells delicious.”

“It’s my birthday gift. A cake. Shay said that you’d prefer it, if we made you something, rather than bought it. Was he wrong?” Eden’s brow is furrowed, as he follows me across the lounge.

“He couldn’t have been more right.” I gesture around the beautifully decorated lounge at the balloons and banners. “I missed your cock in me, when I woke up. But knowing how early you got out of bed to do all of this for me means the world. You always put me first. No one looks after me the way that you do. I can’t wait to see my cake. I don’t think that anyone’s made me a homemade birthday cake before.”

Eden looks shocked. “Never?”

“Birthdays were grand events in our house. Mom was more into appearances I guess, ordering in from the local baker’s. Then after she… Well, Dad barely remembered things like birthdays. With Wilder, he’d take me out for an extravagant dinner somewhere I knew that his secretary would have booked. Once, I asked ifIcould choose, and he told me that I shouldn’t makeeverything about me.”

“Do you want me to kill him?” Eden growls.

D’Angelo may have a point about the therapy.

Although, I don’t want to change Eden. He’s perfect just as he is.

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