Birthday Girl(42)

He finally continues. “Cole became more important,” he admits. “Somewhere along the way, who I was and what I wanted became irrelevant.”

I kind of understand. When you have kids, your hopes transfer to them. Your life takes a backseat to what they need. I get it.

But Cole is an adult now, and Pike has been on his own for a while. What does he do when he’s not at work?

“I’d love to see some of the stuff,” I broach. “If you ever want to unpack it, I’ll help.”

“Nah, that’s okay.”

I knit my brow at how quickly he shoots me down.

“You mean I can’t even see old yearbooks and if you and Cole were twinsies at the same age?” I tease.

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “God, no. Back when the only important thing I had to do was my hair?”

I grin, but of course, he can’t see it. Was he a one-girl kind of guy back in high school, or did he have lots like Cole did before me?

I remember what Cole said about his father cheating on his mom, but for some reason it doesn’t ring true.

“The truth is, Jordan,” he says, “when you’re young, you can be really stupid. I don’t care to remember that time in my life. I want to move on.”

But you’re not moving at all, by the looks of it.

“You need some spice in your life,” I jab at him. “You should get a woman.”

“Yeah, and you should get back to your friends now,” he retorts.

I laugh. “Oh, come on.”

“What makes you think I don’t already have a woman, Jordan?”

His voice taunts, and I can feel it all the way down to my toes.

My mouth goes dry. “Do you?” I ask.

I mean, I was just joking. Wouldn’t it be awkward to have two women walking around the house? I already have my chores down, and I do most of the cooking. That butcher block island and I have a relationship now. I might get a little jealous if another woman touches it.

“You haven’t known me long,” he plays. “My needs do have to be taken care of once in a while. I am human, after all.”

My stomach flips, and I shoot my eyebrows up. His needs?

An image of what he looks like when he has to get those needs met flashes through my mind. I push them away.

Umm, yeah. Okay.

All of a sudden, he laughs. “I’m kidding,” he says. “Yes, I do go out from time to time, but I’m not seeing anyone now. You don’t have to worry about running into some woman you don’t know in the house.”

“Or women,” I say. “Right?”

He scoffs, and I can just picture his face. “Do you honestly see me being able to juggle more than one female? Ever?”

“No, you like your me-time.”

“Exactly.”

My heart warms, and I knew I was right. Cole’s mom fed him bullshit to turn her son against his father.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something about Cole, but if Pike confronts him about the lies his mom probably told, Cole will see it as me betraying his trust. And it might embarrass Pike. They’re not my family. It’s not my place.

A yawn stretches my face, and I let out a little moan, my eyes growing heavier.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you go,” Pike says. “You both have fun, okay? Be safe.”

“We will.” My lids fall closed, his voice lingering in my ear. “And remember,” I tell him. “Push the button down twice.”

He snorts. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Later,” I say.

He pauses a moment before replying. “Goodnight, Jordan.”

He hangs up, and I set my phone down, yawning again and not bothering to turn my box fan app back on.

A smile still curls the corners of my lips. How can a thirty-eight year old man not know how to make microwave popcorn? It’s literally idiot-proof.

I chuckle, my lids resting heavy and sleepy as I forget about Jay and Cole and how uncomfortable this pool table is or how exhausted I’ll probably be tomorrow. Pike drifts through my mind and everything he said and how deep his voice was when he told me “goodnight Jordan” and how it made goosebumps spread up my arms.

And how this is the third night this week he’s been the last person I speak to before I fall asleep at night.





Pike



The next morning, I’m surprised to see I’m the first one up. Jordan is usually moving about, showering, or working on her laptop before I’m even downstairs, but the house seems empty. I open the front door and notice Cole’s car isn’t in the driveway, either.

It’s Sunday morning. He wouldn’t be up already. Did they not come home then?

I go about my business, carrying on with my morning, but as it reaches ten, I want to get going on the main bathroom, tearing out the old tub and prying up the floor tiles, but it’s going to be a lot of noise. I knock on Jordan and Cole’s door to make sure they’re not in there.

No one answers, and I crack open the door to see the bed still made and the bedroom empty. I guess they must’ve crashed at a friend’s last night. I close it again and get to work.

“Hey,” Cole says as he walks into the kitchen an hour later.

I shut the fridge, clutching a soda, and turn toward him as he tosses his keys on the counter. He looks haggard, his hair matted and his eyes red.