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He shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. I’m still friends with my ex. Jess actually called to wish me happy birthday yesterday. It’s not weird.”
Right.
Not weird.
Except that he had no idea about me and Ash. Or else he probably wouldn’t have said that.
“Jess is the girl you dated before me?”
The one Channing said had gone down in flames?
“Yeah. She was in love with the spotlight.” He tugged me closer, dropping a kiss to my lips. “It’s why I like being with you so much.”
“Because I don’t give a shit?”
He laughed. “Yes. One of the many reasons.”
“Perhaps you could elucidate the others.”
“For one, you use the word elucidate.”
I snickered and kissed him again. Glad that our discussion of exes was coming to an end. I did not want to talk about Ash. So, any divergence was for the better.
“Actually, I do have something for you.”
My eyes widened. “You said no birthday presents!”
“I know.” He shot me a sheepish look. “But I couldn’t resist getting you something small.”
“Well, now, I’m a bad girlfriend because I didn’t get you anything.”
“You won’t feel that way when you open it. And anyway, we’re still going to Last Resort on Friday night for our official celebration,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me up the stairs, away from the crowds.
“That was the plan. Memories over gifts,” I reminded him. “Now, you’re saying memories and gifts!”
“Lila, just open the present,” he said as he forced a small box into my hand, covered in blue Christmas wrapping paper.
“A little out of season,” I teased.
But I was already peeling back the wrapping paper and finding the dark green gift box underneath. I popped the lid on the thing, wondering what in the world he could have gotten me when we’d both agreed not to do this. When I saw what was inside, I immediately started laughing.
“You didn’t!”
He grinned broadly. “Told you.”
I reached inside and retrieved the small keychain of a can of Coke.
“Now, you can have your superpower with you everywhere.”
“Thank you,” I said, flinging my arms around him. “It’s perfect.”
“Phew!” He wiped his hand across his brow. “I was worried that I’d look stupid, giving my girlfriend a keychain.”
“We’re still going to Last Resort,” I reminded him. “But it’s thoughtful. I like it.”
He dragged me harder against him, dropping his mouth onto mine. Promising so, so much more.
He groaned and pulled himself back. “I want to keep doing this.” He adjusted his pants, proving his point. “But I also have surprise cake.”
“Cake!” I gushed. “Chocolate?”
“And strawberry.”
“My favorite.”
He kissed me again. “I know. So, we have to go downstairs for that. Then I’m bringing you back up here and giving you your real present.”
I licked my lips. “Maybe I’ll give you my present.”
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Cole!” his roommate Barry called from the other side of the door.
“Coming!” Cole yelled. He shot me a look of pure lust.
“I’m going to put this in my purse.” I’d left my purse in his bedroom hours ago, and I didn’t want to lose my new keychain. As small and insignificant as a keychain was for a birthday present, it made my insides squirm with excitement.
Cole went back downstairs while I attached my keychain to my keys. Then I grabbed my phone and glanced down at the screen one last time before I joined my boyfriend for birthday cake.
I froze in place.
I had a new text message.
My stomach dropped out of my system. My heart stuttered. I could barely swallow around the knot in my throat, and my hands shook. I hadn’t seen that name on my screen in nearly a year. And I hadn’t believed Marley when she said that Ash would text me. It had seemed impossible.
And yet … Ash had texted me.
Happy birthday, Lila. Missing you tonight.
5
Savannah
December 8, 2006
My arms pumped to the time of the cheerleading chant at the Holy Cross football game my senior year of high school. I executed a little hop step, pressed my body forward, and shook my pom-poms. “Holy Cross! Holy Cross! Holy Cross!”
It was the last play of the game. The Holy Cross Academy boys had the ball, and the quarterback had just gotten into position. The crowd died down from our side as we anticipated what Ash Talmadge was about to do. I shivered in the cold. My fingers had long ago gone nearly blue in the unseasonably cold Savannah winter. But still, my eyes were glued to the number four on his jersey.
They hiked the ball. Ash stepped back, ball in hand, and searched the eligible receivers. Then with one beautifully arced ball, he threw downfield. His wide receiver caught the ball in the end zone at the last second of the clock, and the stands erupted into cheers.
We’d won!
My heart was going to burst out of my chest. I couldn’t believe it. It had come right down to the wire. And though some of the girls on the cheerleading squad for St. Catherine’s Academy—the school that resided across the street from the all-boys equivalent, Holy Cross—had never cared about football a day in their life, we were all celebrating together.
