Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(17)

“Happy birthday!”

I screamed and jumped back into Brett’s arms when the shouts from my friends nearly gave me a heart attack—and almost made me pee myself if I’m being honest.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed me forward when I hadn’t moved. Bending down so his lips were next to my ear, he whispered, “Happy birthday, Paisley.”

Goose bumps covered my arms from the way his low voice curled around my name, and I looked up to kiss his jaw before stepping away into the waiting arms of my friends.

I was hugged, kissed on the cheek, and picked up dozens of times. But my eyes had never stopped moving—had never stopped looking for a tall guy built like a god, with short blond hair and perfect blue eyes. Even as I looked for him, I somehow knew he wouldn’t be there, though. Not just because we hadn’t talked in over a week, but I was sure my body would know when he was close again.

Looking over to Kristen and Jason in silent question as Brett pulled me into his arms again, both shook their heads faintly, and I nodded mine in acknowledgment.

“Surprise?” Brett offered.

I pushed on his stomach before wrapping my arms around his waist. “I guessed this.”

“Well, of course you did. But it’s not like I could just tell you. That would have ruined the best reaction I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh God, I don’t even want to know what I looked like.”

“Adorable.”

“Charmer?”

His lips tilted up in the most perfect crooked smile. “Absolutely.”

“Thank you for this.”

He jerked his head toward my living room. “Come on, let’s enjoy your day, shall we?”

“HE HASN’T EVEN called you?” Kristen asked hours later. “It’s your birthday. I just don’t see him being like this,” she mumbled mostly to herself.

Everyone except Brett, Kristen, and Jason had just left; and before I could question them about the obvious missing guest once Brett was in the bathroom, Jason brought him up.

I sighed as I grabbed a cupcake out of the container and started tearing off the top. “Oh well.”

“Has he said anything to you, babe?” Kristen asked.

Jason shrugged. “He’s been quiet. Not talking to anyone really. His door is usually shut, but he didn’t show up again yesterday. I tried calling him early this morning about your party—it went straight to voice mail.”

An uneasy feeling unfurled in my stomach, and apparently Kristen’s too. “Should we be worried about him?” she asked as she tried to conceal her fear.

“I don’t think so, he’s just trying to figure some things out, and doesn’t know exactly how to react to all this yet. Like I said last weekend, he just needs time.”

I frowned at Jason’s words, how much time did he need? I understood things changing, but not calling me for my birthday? Not showing up? It was so unlike Eli.

“What are you doing?” Brett asked on a laugh.

I jumped at the sound of his voice suddenly behind me, and quickly forced my body to relax. “What do you mean?”

He pointed at the cupcake bottom sitting, forgotten about, on the island countertop, so I showed him the frosted part.

“I only eat the tops of cupcakes.”

“Really? So the rest of the cake just gets left behind?”

My eyes widened and my breathing hitched. “Uh . . .”

He grabbed the cake sitting on the counter and popped a piece in his mouth. “I feel bad for the poor cake.”

I slowly looked up to Kristen and Jason; both were staring at the rest of the cupcake like they didn’t know what to say. And when Kristen looked up at me, that same look of pity she’d had for the last week was there.

It was ridiculous that I wanted to say that was Eli’s part, that Brett couldn’t eat it. Because Eli wasn’t here, he’d made the decision not to be. I needed to accept that and move on.





Chapter Six

September 14, 2013

Paisley



JOGGING QUICKLY TO my front door a week later, I looked through the peephole, and a smile crossed my face as I opened the door.

“Good morning!”

Brett leaned forward to kiss my cheek as he stepped around me. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Ha . . . I’m not so sure about that. I just woke up and I’m all gross.”

Setting the two cups of coffee on the kitchen bar, he turned and pulled me close for a slower kiss. His tongue slid over mine in the most perfect, teasing way. “I’m not sure I agree with that,” he countered.

“What’s this?”

“That.” He pulled back and made a face, like he wasn’t sure how I’d respond. “You told me yesterday that you’d run of out coffee, and I figured you didn’t go to the store after work . . . so I decided to bring you some. It was my excuse to come see you.”

My smile widened, and I grabbed the cups before walking over to the couch, leaving the cups on the coffee table. “So you need an excuse to come see me now?”

“At eight A.M. on a Saturday? I figured I might.” He grinned wryly and captured my lips again.

“Definitely don’t need one,” I assured him, and he laughed huskily.

He moved to kiss a slow line up my throat toward my mouth, and though I knew I should be embarrassed about the way my chest was moving roughly up and down, I couldn’t think past the way his lips were making me feel to begin to. I moaned when he nipped on my bottom lip, and turned to bring one of my knees over his legs so I was sitting on his lap. His hands gripped at my back under my shirt as he claimed my mouth, and I rocked my hips against his hardening length, whimpering from the friction of his jeans against my sleep shorts.