It’s Lane’s birthday? My Lane?
I can’t even be upset he didn’t tell me when I’ve been doing the exact same thing. Why didn’t he want me to know?
Guilt floods my veins. This is a really great start to being an actual couple. We’re already keeping secrets from each other.
“He didn’t tell me,” I say quietly.
She smiles, completely unaware of the internal chaos fizzling in my head.
“Probably because he doesn’t know. His birthday isn’t for another week or something—it’s asurpriseparty.”
“Oh.”
“Wes was supposed to tell you.” She tilts her head to the side. “You didn’t get his texts?”
I chew my bottom lip. “No, I guess not.”
“Oh, weird.” She continues. “Well, with everyone being so busy, this is the only weekend we can all go together. You were already coming—might as well let us celebrate you, too.”
I hesitate, but resistance feels pointless. Lydia always wins. Maybe this is a sign that I need to be more optimistic.
“Okay.” I sigh in surrender. “Fine.”
She squeals, practically vibrating. “It’s cowboy themed, since Lane is still a baby cowboy, and Brant promised me the mechanical bull will be good to go. This is going to be so much fun!”
I force a smile and wave goodbye. It’ll be something, alright.
Lydiawasnotexaggeratingabout the theme.
She’s wearing the remaining ten percent of a T-shirt, cut into a micro tube top with a beer logo on it, and paired it with shorts that could qualify as denim underwear. Her black boots and hat are the perfect cherry on top for her pinup cowgirl look.
I feel overdressed in my favorite stolen flannel, knotted just above my navel. A white lace bralette peeks through the open V, just enough to tease.
Lane spots me the second he climbs out of his truck. The look he gives me hides none of the desire burning in his eyes. It’s slow and hungry and it makes this entire night feel worth it.
Everyone heads inside, but he catches my wrist, pulling me into him. The kiss is deep and a little rough, like he’s been waiting all day for this.
If I thought we could get away with it, I would have asked him to take me to his truck right then and there, let him unwrap his present early.
I didn’t care that it felt a little cliché, but I wasn’t going to double up and lose my virginity in the back seat of my boyfriend’s truck.
My boyfriend.It still doesn’t feel real, but I’m getting used to the idea.
He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel like this—safe and wanted. Desired for more than just physical stuff or what my father’s connections could do.
That night in the Hills was a nightmare brought to life, and for a while, I thought maybe that was it for me. That there’d be no escaping the cycle. I’d always be trapped inside the version of myself that everyone wanted me to be. Forced to smile and pretend I was fine when in reality, I’d never be whole.
But in the end, I’m thankful in a way, because it led me here. To this place. To him.
He never asks me to be anything other than who I am. And somehow, without even trying, he’s shown me that I’m not broken. That I get to make choices for me. I get to decide when and who and why.
I want this. Not because I feel like I should. Not to prove something, escape something, or fix something.
But because I wanthim.
So, tonight is the night.
When I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll be in his bed, freshly nineteen, and no longer a virgin.
