Birthday Girl(120)

I stop and shoot my eyes up again, glaring at him. Heat rises to my neck at hearing her name. I haven’t talked about her with anyone for months now.

“My kitchen faces yours,” he explains, “it was late, and you two were at the sink.”

My body warms, remembering that. The sight of her walking naked to the kitchen one night, and how I wouldn’t let her get a midnight snack until I got mine. She was so beautiful.

I straighten, clenching my teeth. “You watched?”

“No,” he blurts out like he would never. And then he shrugs. “I mean, I might have if you two hadn’t eventually taken it to the floor and out of my line of sight.”

He follows with a laugh, and if I could fucking fly, I’d be over this fence right now, strangling him.

He seems to notice my anger and tries to placate me. “Listen, I didn’t mean to see anything, okay? You could try to stay away from the windows, you know?” He shakes his head. “I’m just saying, I think it’s the first time I ever saw you smile. She certainly seems like she made you happy. I can’t imagine she wouldn’t make any man happy, actually.”

“Shut the hell up,” I mumble, bending down and picking up tools, dropping them into the small box.

Really? How could we have been so careless? He’s the last person whose eyes I want on her.

“So, where’d she go?” he asks. “It didn’t work out with you two?”

I ignore him, gathering my shit, so I can escape inside.

“How’d you fuck that up, man?” he laughs out, taking a swig of his beer. “You get a woman like that—young and hot with a body in that good a shape—you don’t lose it.”

I toss my wrench down, charging forward with nowhere to go. “I’m gonna kick your ass. Shut the fuck up.”

“So, she’s available now, right?”

“Son of a bitch,” I growl.

He just snickers. I must be so amusing.

“You are definitely sad,” he says. “Women aren’t that hard to make happy if you have half a mind to.”

“I’m not incapable,” I snap. “But that’s not the point. Teenage women belong with teenage guys, and don’t you fucking forget it next time you run into one. She deserves someone her own age.”

He nods, thinking. And then he pins me with a look. “So, your son was her age, right? Did he treat her better than you did?”

I breathe hard but stay silent. He gives me a smug half-grin and backs away, walking back into his house.

That’s not the point, asshole.

Yeah, I can safely say her relationships with guys her own age weren’t winners, either, but…

But what? I’m not going to be able to give her everything she wants? I’m not going to grow with her? I’m not going to start over and build a family anymore at my age?

Two months ago, those all seemed like viable arguments, but over time, they feel less convincing now. Like maybe who I am and where I’m at in my life isn’t carved in stone. It can still be subject to change.

I shake my head. I don’t know.

No, I did the right thing. It’s been months, and I haven’t heard from her. She’s clearly moved on.

But God, I fucking miss her. It’s like I’m constantly sick with hunger, but food won’t satisfy me. There’s an emptiness inside me that I can’t fill on my own.

I pick up the tool box and turn toward the house, but when I look up, I see Cole standing in the open back doorway to the house.

I halt. Jesus. How long has he been standing there?

The box dangles from my fingers as we just hold each other’s eyes, and I’m completely stunned to see him here.

“I saw you at the graduation,” he says, a hand in his pocket.

His graduation from boot camp was yesterday, and I’d been writing him and hounding his recruiter all summer for any contact. I had to see him, though. I couldn’t miss it. It’s a huge accomplishment.

Slowly, I drift toward him, unable to tear my gaze away. He looks incredible. Taller and bigger, a long summer at boot camp having tanned his skin and lightened his now buzzed, blond head of hair. He wears his green camouflage uniform with his hat in one hand as he leans against the doorframe.

“I just wanted to see you,” I tell him. “I wasn’t sure if you put me on the list or your recruiter did, but you didn’t respond to any of my letters, so I wasn’t sure you wanted me there.”

After the ceremony ended, I wanted to talk to him, but his mom was there with her latest boyfriend, and he was joined by a couple friends who’d driven up to see him. I didn’t want to ruin it, so I left. He’d have his cell phone back now, so he would see all the calls, texts, and voicemails. He’d let me know when he was ready.

He drops his head, scanning the ground in front of him. “I got all your letters. Thanks for the phone cards.”

You mean the ones you didn’t use to call me? I quirk a smile, not blaming him. It was a long shot, but I am glad he got everything. As long as he knew I was thinking about him…

“How are you?” I step up and set the tool box down, pulling the shop cloth out of my back pocket and wiping off my hands.

He’s quiet and takes a deep breath. Finally, he raises his blue eyes to me. “Got a beer?”