Birthday Girl(27)

The strap of my top falls down my arm, and I cup my naked breast, looking over my shoulder at him. The cigarette—or cigar—in his hand hangs at his side, burning a stream of smoke into the air. But he seems to have forgotten about it as he stares at me.

It occurs to me Cole doesn’t smoke, but the thought is gone as quickly as it comes.

I want him to see me. I want him to want me. I feel him want me, and I like it. God, I like it. Keep watching me. I wonder what his mouth tastes like. What do his teeth feel like? My nipples tighten and harden, craving a mouth.

I’m gonna get you off. Keep watching me. Keep watching me.

I lean back on my hands, rolling my hips faster and harder, and I can feel my skin growing wet with sweat as I rub my pussy and move my ass for him.

Only him.

“Oh, God,” I whimper, feeling my orgasm crest. “I’m coming, I’m coming…”

But then a loud slam echoes through the house, and I pop up my head up and open my eyes. Shit!

I freeze, listening. The floorboards in the hallway creak, and someone moves down the hallway and then pounds down the stairs. I hop off the bed in a hurry, in case it’s Cole.

I wouldn’t have woken his father, would I? That was so stupid! What if the bed was creaking?

Shame burns like fire on my face, and I inch toward the bedroom door, cracking it open for a peek. The hallway is still dark, but I can hear talking and then a door slams shut downstairs.

I frown. Stepping across the hallway, I quickly hide in the bathroom and close the door. Keeping the light off, I go to the window and pull open one of the shutters.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind being woken up for this,” I hear Pike say, and I peer out to see him standing next to the pool, talking on his phone. “Babies are unpredictable. Take whatever time you need. We’ll be fine for the next few days.”

He’s dressed in gray lounge pants but no shirt, and I see him rub his hand over his scalp as he yawns. My shoulders relax a little. The call probably woke him up.

He nods at whoever is talking on the phone. “Shoot us all a text when the kid is born. Congrats, man.”

Then he chuckles, and my muscles relax, so grateful. That would’ve been embarrassing if he’d heard me.

I move to close the window again, but I see him grab something out of a dish on the garden table and put it in his mouth as he continues listening to whoever is on the phone.

I stop, my eyes widening as I watch him light a cigar butt. The hair on my neck stands on end, and my pulse races. I yank the shutter closed, not caring if he hears me.

What the hell? I haven’t seen him smoke. Why would that have popped in my…?

I charge back to my room, close the door, and pull off the lingerie. Donning a T-shirt and boy shorts, I turn off the music, the light, and climb into bed.

Cam and her stupid, damn subliminal messages and shit. Thanks a lot.





“Hey, Corinne. Is my dad home?” I ask into the phone.

I hear my stepmom move on the other end, a screen door creaking open. “Chip!” she hollers, her voice raspy from years of smoking. “It’s Jordan!”

The door creaks shut again, and I think I hear the fryer going in the kitchen. I can almost feel the grainy linoleum under my feet from here. I’m so glad to be out of that trailer, even if it means mooching off Cole’s dad.

“You need money?” she says as I wait for my dad to come to the phone. “’Cause we don’t have any. Your dad threw out his back and missed some work a couple weeks ago, so things are tight right now.”

I blink. “No, I…” I stammer, aggravated by her question. “I don’t need money.”

And they would be the last people I’d ask if I did. My father never has cash for more than a day before it’s burning a hole in his pocket. One of the many reasons my mom ran out.

But at least my dad stayed.

“Chip?!” she calls again but then growls at the dogs. “Get out of the way, you two.”

I shake my head, the previous suspicion that a text would’ve been better now solidifying. If my dad does make it to the phone, I’ll just hang up feeling pissed off that he’s about as warm as this woman. Thank goodness she wasn’t my stepmom for long under that roof. I left as soon as I could.

“I just wanted to let you all know I moved,” I tell her. “In case you need my new address.”

“Oh, right, right.” I hear her suck in and know she’s smoking. “You moved in with Cole at his dad’s house. Yeah, we heard.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Chip!” she screeches again, interrupting me.

I hood my eyes, exasperated already. “It’s fine,” I tell her. “That’s all I called for, so don’t bother Dad then if he already knows. I’ll…talk to you later.”

“Okay.” She blows out smoke. “Well, take care of yourself, and I’ll call in a week or so. Have you over for dinner or something.”

My body shakes with a bitter laugh I hold back. It’s not funny. It’s sad, really. But she hangs up without waiting for me to say ‘goodbye’, and I let out a sigh, tossing my phone on the bed.

Neither my dad nor stepmom are bad people, although no one called on my birthday, either.

I was never hit or starved or verbally abused. Just kind of forgotten, I guess. They struggled for anything good in life, so it was too much to ask to let responsibility or concern for their children interfere with what tiny pleasure they managed to muster with their beer and Bingo nights.