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Something went wrong at her parents’, and she’d ended up home, baking her own birthday cake. Maybe it was a silly thing to anyone else, but I knew what that might symbolize for her.
By the time she came downstairs, I’d schooled my expression.
Lunch was whatever, she’d said. And when I gave her a long, searching look, she waved it off. Seriously, it’s not a big thing. My mom was being her usual self, and I didn’t feel like putting up with it, she insisted.
And she was craving cake.
That was all.
When I tried to ask again, she cut me my own massive piece, shoved it in my hands, and said, “Eat the delicious cake, Ian, and stop overthinking it.”
So I did. And it was delicious.
She let Sage stay home from school so they could do girl stuff all day, and I knew that was telling too. I couldn’t stop that gnawing sensation that if her birthday passed and even the slightest hint of what she’d feared came true, she’d go to bed and feel empty. Feel that yearning she talked about. And as a couple of days passed, I couldn’t ignore the screaming in my gut to do something, anything, to make it as perfect of a day as possible.
“Ian?” Adaline asked. “Did I lose you?”
I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I want to make movie-watching beds in the family room. Like that fancy sleepover shit you see on Pinterest where everyone has their own spot, and you can have popcorn and theater candy or whatever.”
“You moving the couch out?”
My thumb tapped against the steering wheel. “Can’t move it out completely, but it can be pushed back.”
Through the phone, I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. “Okay, unless you’re going to buy some new mattresses, I’d suggest air mattresses or a mattress pad and a lot of blankets so it’s a bit easier to set up.” She pulled the phone away from her face. “Kenz, what’s the name of that bakery we used in Redmond for my dad’s birthday party last year? They did the cake.”
A muffled voice answered her in the background.
“Ian, I’m going to text you the bakery information. And a list of things to get at the grocery store. You might need to borrow pillows and fuzzy blankets from Mom’s, because I highly doubt you have enough at your place.”
The mere thought of having to face Sheila and Poppy for something like this had me pinching my eyes shut. “I’ll buy them, it’s fine.”
Adaline paused. “You’re going to buy multiple new pillows and blankets for one movie night for her birthday?”
“Yup.”
“Ahh. That way you don’t have to explain any of this to Mom, which means Poppy would know, which means Greer would know.” She paused again. “Because if Greer knows, she’ll?—”
“Be obnoxious about it,” I interrupted. “And I’m just … making sure she has the birthday she wanted. That’s all,” I said gruffly. “I’m sick of missing people’s birthdays, and maybe I want to make up for it.”
The excuse was about as flimsy as wet cardboard, and I just wanted off this fucking phone call.
“Okay.” The light tone of her answer had me grimacing because she wasn’t buying it either. But I could handle Adaline knowing this. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s really thoughtful, Ian. She’ll love it.”
My jaw went tight again. “Uh-huh. Thanks, Adaline. I owe you.”
“Enough to stand up for Emmett when we get married in the spring?” she asked.
The air pressed hard from my lungs. “He’d want me to? I hardly know him.”
“You’re my brother,” she said. “Of course he would. It’ll be you, Parker, Beckett, Cameron, and one other teammate. Mom will be walking me down the aisle,” she added softly.
Emotion had my throat feeling tight. I’d missed Greer’s wedding to Beckett, but this was something I’d be here for. I blinked a few times and took a deep breath.
“Erik doesn’t get to stand up for him? I’ll make sure to rub that in the next time I see him.”
She laughed. “He’s marrying us, you dick.” Adaline paused again, inhaling slowly through her nose. “Is that a yes?”
“Yeah,” I answered in a rough voice. “I’d be honored.”
