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They depress the fuck out of me.
Hence why I’ve always been reluctant to throw birthday parties, since they’ve never been a cause of celebration for me.
It’s not the getting older part that’s disheartening.
It’s the reminder that life is finite, that’s a bitch.
One day, you’re here, living your best life, and then, in the blink of an eye, you’re gone, leaving everyone you ever cared about to carry on living without you.
Yeah.
I fucking hate birthdays.
But this year, I needed something to occupy my free time since work wasn’t cutting it, so I decided to throw this bash as a way to distract myself from the bigger problem in my life.
A problem whose piercing black eyes seem determined to haunt my every waking moment.
So yes, I was in desperate need of a significant distraction, big enough to shift my focus away from the depressing reality I was living in. Hence why I went out of my way to invite everyone I could possibly think of, except for the one person I truly wanted to celebrate my birthday with.
If that doesn’t say that I’m knee-deep in trouble, then I don’t know what does.
I shake that somber thought away and pick up another flute of champagne, drinking it in one full swig, uncaring if I look like a lush at my own party.
But just as the alcohol hits my bloodstream, I feel a shiver run down my spine as someone presses their hard-toned body against my back.
No, not someone.
The bane of my very existence.
“Good evening, kitten. Don’t you look good enough to eat?” Trent rasps in my ear, forcing me to turn around and take a step back away from him.
“Trent… what are you—”
“Doing here?” he finishes for me. “It’s your birthday party. Where else would I be?”
“I didn’t invite you.” I swallow dryly, hating how my damn heart just skipped a beat.
“Oh, I’m well aware.” He smiles nefariously. “And I’ll be sure to punish you accordingly for that oversight… later.”
My face heats up as I glance around the crowded bar to see if anyone overheard his little innuendo.
“I told you before, comedy isn’t your strong suit, Trent,” I reprimand.
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Just merely stating a fact.”
“You really shouldn’t be here,” I say softly while keeping a welcoming smile stitched on my face in case anyone is looking at us.
“Why? Why shouldn’t I have come?”
“Because… my boss is here along with most of my colleagues,” I try to deflect.
“And?” He arches a brow.
“And people might get suspicious.”
“Suspicious of what?” he asks, his voice dipping to an even lower, sexy-as-hell octave.
“You know damn well of what,” I retort with clenched teeth, stretching a fake smile so no one can tell how my heart rate just spiked up with the sound of his voice.
