Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)(77)

“Uh, ’cause maybe I’m not lying,” I snapped, taken aback by his accusation.

“Bullshit. I saw your birth certificate when you were taking your driving test. You are lying and I want to know why. Now.”

I loved bossy Flint. I actually even loved angry Flint. But * Flint made me want to resort to violence. Fortunately for him, he was still wearing that suit.

“So let me get this straight. You see something that’s different than what I’ve told you and your immediate conclusion is that I’m lying to you? You don’t ask me about it. You just jump straight to liar. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You did lie to me! You point-blank told me that your birthday was in April.”

“My birthday is in April!” I yelled, quickly losing my temper.

“Stop f*cking saying that. Your birthday was last week. What the hell are you trying to hide from me?”

I blinked at him. “Are you kidding me here? Now I’m hiding shit from you?” I said, a little bit hurt. Okay, a lot hurt.

“I don’t know! That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out!”

“There is nothing to figure out!” Taking a step away, I closed my eyes and attempted a calming breath. “Listen, you’re acting like an * right now. Let me know when you want to talk. I’m happy to explain, but I’m not sitting here, listening to you toss out accusations.” I turned and stomped to our bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

So maybe I was acting like an * too. I was hurt though. Flint was the one person who knew my buttons. Yet, like a little kid on an elevator, he was pushing every single one of them.

I collapsed onto our bed, toeing my shoes off then kicking them over the edge. I groaned to myself when I heard his steps against the hall’s hardwood floor. I needed a few minutes to collect myself and get rid of the bitter taste he had left in my mouth. The door opened, but he didn’t come inside.

Propping himself against the doorjamb, he said, “You’re right.”

“I know I am,” I snarked back.

“For what it’s worth, I wasn’t assuming it was some nefarious plot or anything. I thought maybe you had lied to keep some distance between us when you first got back. I don’t know. That doesn’t even really make sense.” He ran his fingers through his hair then used his hand to comb it back into place. “It’s just . . . I missed your birthday, and now, I feel like a dick.”

“Are you ready to listen now instead of jumping to conclusions?” I asked, sitting up and crossing my legs underneath me.

He looked down sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t miss my birthday, Flint. My mother killed herself on March eighteenth, so when I was a kid, I picked a new day to celebrate.”

His head shot up. “Shit,” he breathed, becoming unstuck and walking to the bed to join me.

“As far as I’m concerned, my birthday is April eighteenth. I wasn’t lying to you, but the fact that you automatically assumed I was . . .” I trailed off.

He cupped my jaw to force my eyes to his. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“But that’s exactly the problem. There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know, Flint. You can’t always assume I’m lying or hiding shit from you every time a new truth comes out.”

The bed dipped under his weight as he settled on the edge. “I want to know everything about you, Ash. I should have known something as big as March eighteenth.” He leaned forward, kissing me all too briefly.

“Look, we’ve been back together for two months. The get-to-know-you portion of this relationship is not going to happen overnight.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Sage advice from a woman who’s only been in one relationship.” He smiled, kissing me again.

“Nah. I read a lot of romance novels.”

His head snapped back. “Do you really?” he asked skeptically. “Seriously, or are you f*cking with me?”

“No. I really do. The dirtier the better.” I shrugged.

His eyes flashed wide as he fell back against the bed, laughing. “How the hell did I not know that?”

“You never asked!” I defended.

Grabbing my arm, he tugged me down, juggling me into our position. Sighing, he kissed the top of my head. “What else should I know about you?”

“Well, my favorite color is neon green, but only for accessories. You’ll never catch me in a neon-green shirt or dress. I prefer black with splashes of color. My favorite flavor anything is apple, but I hate actual apples. I love olives of all colors and prefer vanilla over chocolate.” I paused to tap on the corner of my mouth. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Maybe the important stuff.” He squeezed me tight.

“I can’t tell you the important stuff, Flint. That kinda comes out randomly. Hell, the stuff you think is important might not even be the important stuff to me. But the good news is I’m here for forever, so long as you stop making assumptions, time is something we have.” I pushed up on an elbow and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Turning his head, he captured my mouth. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“And I’m sorry. You can have whatever birthday you want.”