Walking toward her, I replace her hand with mine and urge her to walk forward. Once she’s standing in front of the desk, I remove my hand and tell her to open her eyes.
“Albert?” She gasps, looking at me with more tears in her eyes. “You’re giving me Albert?”
Reaching my hand out to wipe away the tears, I smile. “No one better to take care of him than you.”
I never had any need for a typewriter, but I thought it looked cool, and for five dollars, how could I not buy it? Her face on Halloween when she saw it was like a dream, and I knew then that I’d be giving it to her at some point in the future, and what better time than now?
“You’re really giving him to me?” She looks completely shocked, like she doesn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” my lips press against her temple. “Happy almost birthday, baby.”
“Thank you,” she mummers, lifting a hand to her cheek and swiping her thumb across it. “Has anyone ever told you how perfect you are?”
“Someone special to me might’ve said that once before.” I grin before leaning down and connecting our lips.
Chapter 55
Lilly
I don’t know how many bottles of wine the girls and I have consumed tonight—too many to count. But it’s my birthday tomorrow, and I deserve to have fun.
I managed to convince Greyson to stay the evening, therefore, he was also forced to wear a sash that said “pretty princess” with a pink cowboy, and Payton also dug out some feather boas for us all to wear.
Callie also somehow ended up with a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs on one wrist too, and I don’t even want to know where she got them from. Or if she's used them, because I know the answer to that question before even thinking it.
I was of course wearing a sash that said “birthday queen” and I even got a plastic tiara to wear. All in all, I think the four of us looked fucking hilarious. Especially considering the girls and I were also wearing our matching pink satin pajamas.
“Do you have a hammer?” Greyson grumbles, wiping the non-existent sweat from his forehead.
Callie currently has him attempting to build another bookshelf—something she’s more than capable of doing herself—which has been the most entertaining thing to watch.
He’s huffed, and he’s puffed—almost like he was the wolf from that one nursery rhyme. The only thing he hasn’t done is blown the house down.
“You don’t need a hammer.” Callie responds, sitting crossed legged beside him.
“Then how am I meant to get the screws in?” He throws his hands up in frustration, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Uh, with the allen key.” She moves forward, almost spilling her wine, picks it up from the floor in front of him, and displays it with a grin.
He grumbles something incoherent under his breath as he takes it from her and begins screwing in the screws.
Grabbing the wine bottle that’s almost empty, I pour the rest into my glass as I sit crossed legged and watch as Greyson’s biceps flex every time he turns the allen key,
Fuck me. He’s so hot.
It’s not the wine talking, it’s me.
And I have to squeeze my thighs together because right now isn’t the time to get horny.
Payton sits with her phone on her lap, shuffling the songs until “Untouched” by the Veronicas plays—a song the girls and I always get hyped over.
She is immediately up, grinning as she drags Callie and me along with her. And I’m grateful for that because if I stayed staring at Greyson for a second longer, I fear I’d be dragging us both to my bedroom and fucking him while screaming his name as loud as my lungs would let me.
Payton grabs my hand, spinning me around, almost making me spill the wine over the glass edge, but I manage to keep it in, giggling as the three of us dance around.
Callie holds the wine bottle up to her mouth like a microphone, singing along, and swaying her hips to the rhythm.
“Sing!” She declares, holding the bottle to my lips.
