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“Aw, Matty, come on. It’d be sexy as hell. You’d stand there with your terrible posture, wearing some lace fuckin’ thing and scowling so hard Rhys’d think you were gonna clock him with the champagne bottle. Happy fuckin’ birthday, honey.” He dissolved into laughter and I had to smile, picturing the way he threw his head back when he laughed and how his eyes crinkled.
“Ha ha. Never mind.”
“Okay, okay, no lingerie. You could have a party? Nah, he’s been with all these people on tour, he’ll probably want some peace. What about just a nice dinner? He’s kinda old, right, so he don’t need to go out dancing or anything.”
“He’s not old,” I muttered. “I can’t really cook.”
“No kidding. I didn’t mean you should poison the man on his birthday. Get some food from a nice damn restaurant, jeez.”
“Fuck, I just want to do something nice for him. I want it to be perfect.”
“What’s going on, man? Stuff not okay with you and Rhys?”
I sighed. “No, it’s okay. I just . . . miss him.”
“Sucks. But he’ll be back.”
“I know.”
“Speak, Grim.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and heard Grin saying that to me a hundred times, a thousand, over the years. At first because I never said a word. Then, later, because I only said the words that didn’t matter. I’d gotten a lot better.
“Rhys and I bought a bedroom set. For the spare room. And . . . I have five pairs of shoes. A coffeemaker. I picked out the rug for the living room after Rhys dropped a can of paint on the old one. My stuff doesn’t fit in a duffel bag anymore. And Rhys . . . he loves me.” There was a long silence. “I just meant that I’m doing good now. Not like before. But I still dream about it. And I’m . . . with Rhys gone it’s harder to feel like things are really different. It feels, I don’t know . . . precarious.”
Another silence, then Grin cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I . . . I know what you mean.”
“We promised,” I said softly. “We made a pact. I want to keep it.”
“I think we’re doing pretty well there,” he said. “We’re not in prison; we haven’t fathered and abandoned any random kids—uh, at least I haven’t. Don’t know about you.” I snorted. “We’ve got jobs. You picked out a rug. The rest . . . we’re working on. We’re doing okay, Matty, for real.”
* * *
—
I decided to believe Grin. About us doing okay, not about the lingerie. But . . . lingerie aside, I did want to do something to celebrate Rhys’s birthday. I got home from work and sent him a text, then I opened the computer and waited for his video call.
I couldn’t help but smile when I saw him. He was peering into his phone so his nose took up the whole screen. He pulled the phone away and grinned at me, shirtless.
“Hey, baby!”
“Happy birthday.”
I missed the next thing Rhys said, distracted by the lines of his face. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in months.
“Sorry, what?”
He shook his head, expression tender. “Nothing. I’m just really glad to see your face.”
I flushed, even though I’d been thinking the same thing about him. “Shhh,” I said.
“I can’t tell my own husband I like his face?” A shiver ran up my spine at husband, and at the possessiveness in his voice, just as Rhys no doubt knew it would. “I can, can’t I, Matty?”
“No, yeah, you can,” I said softly, looking down.
“Course I can.” His eyes were hot as he regarded me, sparks of blue flame. He lay back on the bed, on arm bent underneath his head so the muscle bulged. “Because you’re mine, right, love?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Right,” I breathed, heart hammering. Fuck, I missed him so much. Even with him right in front of me on the screen, I missed him. I missed him in a deep, animal way that was about smell and taste and the weight of flesh on flesh.
When I opened my eyes again, they were heavy-lidded, lashes fluttering. I minimized the small window where I could see myself so that Rhys took up my whole screen.
“Figured since you weren’t here to do me for your birthday . . .” Rhys’s look turned predatory. “I could give you a present.” I swallowed hard. “Um, want a striptease?”
“Fuck yes, I do,” he growled. “Then what?”
“Um, then I thought I’d jerk off for you and pretend you were here. Or, you know, whatever you want.”
Rhys slid the hand not holding his phone out from under his head and slid it down his torso, off camera. “I want you to fuck yourself with the red dildo and pretend it’s me fucking you.”
A bolt of lust shot through me. “Okay.” I grabbed the dildo and held it in front of the computer. “It’s not as big as you, but I guess I can use my imagination.” Rhys groaned and nodded. I set up the computer so the camera was in the right place and pulled my shirt off.
