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Yep. Still bitter.

"You don't like it," she says.

"It's cake." I shrug.

"Bishop."

"It's your birthday, Becks. I'm not the one who needs to like it."

She smiles down at her plate, and I find myself watching her instead of eating. I don’t miss the way she reacts to me calling her Becks, just like I didn’t miss it earlier.

Becks. It just feels right.

"What?" she asks, catching me staring.

"Nothing."

"You've been looking at me like that since you came downstairs."

"Like what?"

She sets her fork down. "Like you're trying to figure something out."

She's not wrong, I’m a little on edge. Any guy would be after tasting what he’s spent the past few years denying himself.

"Just worried if you’re okay." I go with honesty.

Her brows draw together. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking." Because I’m scared shitless that maybe just maybe she will regret it, but she studies me for a moment before her expression softens.

"I'm good, Bishop. Better than okay actually.”

I nod, but she doesn't look away.

"Are you?"

That's the thing about Laney. She's always been able to tell when something's going on in my head, even when I do a pretty decent job of pretending otherwise.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I am."

She glances at my mouth, and there's no mistaking what she's thinking.

Christ, I want to kiss her again.

Instead, I reach over and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile turns a little shy and I realize something. She's nervous, too.

For some reason, knowing that makes this whole thing feel a little less impossible.

"So, there's something I wanted to ask you."

She glances over.

"The Ignite the Night Gala is Sunday. Whole team will be there. It’s for a great cause, the Phoenix Foundation."

"I remember you mentioning it."

"I was wondering if you'd like to come with me?" I lean back against the couch trying to act casual, but the truth is I’ve never wanted a yes so fucking badly.