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“Jeans for sure.”
I grab the bag I packed her and step out of the room for her to change, placing it next to my phone on the coffee table.
The slim device taunts me from the coffee table. With the ringer off, I have no clue if Samson responded to my last text or not. I’m half-tempted to check, but I can’t decide which is worse—not knowing, or him not texting.
Uncertainty, my brain shouts as my fingers flex with desire. Just check it!
Except before I can give in to temptation, Emmy steps into the living room.
“So?”
I let out a low whistle.
“It’s gonna be great, Emmy,” I reassure her, right as someone knocks on our door.
“Oh! I still need to pack.”
“I took care of it.”
Emmy’s eyes widen. “Thanks. I think.”
“Have so much fun!” I cry, launching myself at her and wrapping her in a tight hug before I can think better of it. She stiffens before slowly returning my embrace. “And remember, I’m only one call away.”
“You’re the best,” she murmurs before stepping away from me, grabbing her bag, and turning toward the door.
I watch as she swings it open, revealing a self-possessed Sterling leaning against the frame.
“Emmalyn.” Twin flames of desire dance in his eyes as he looks her over. Score for the outfit! “You look gorgeous.”
My heart races as she murmurs her thanks. Given their sordid history, these two are the last people I would imagine ending up together, but here they are beating the odds.
Watching them fills me with equal parts hope and dread—not only for them, but for me also.
Hope that Samson and I can overcome our past as well, but dread at the thought of us falling apart.
The idea is almost too much to bear. Especially tonight of all nights.
“You ready?” Sterling asks, taking her bag from her and slinging it over his shoulder.
Emmy nods.
“Then let’s go.” He’s so enraptured with her that he doesn’t even notice me standing in the background. It makes me wonder if Samson’s focus ever tunnel visions when I’m in the room… if I’m ever all he can see.
“Where?” my best friend asks, but he pulls the door shut before I can hear his reply.
I stare at the closed door long after they leave, wishing like hell Samson was taking me on a surprise getaway for the weekend.
But he’s not. Because he’s out with my brother, who doesn’t know we’re together.
Happy-freaking-birthday to me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stella
Despite the chill in the air, I’m exactly where I want to be.
The wind rustles the leaves overhead and the crickets’ incessant chirping keep me from feeling too alone.
Even though that’s precisely what I am—alone. Like always.
I know I could have made plans with any number of people. I’m not in high school anymore; I have friends now. But none of them are who I wanted to spend today with.
I only wanted Samson, but apparently, he’s too busy to even remember. I could have reminded him, but I didn’t think I’d need to—I’ve never had to before.
Growing up, he always remembered.
He would always text me at midnight on the dot, wishing me a happy birthday, saying he wanted to always be the first.
And in the mornings, he was always at my house first thing in the morning so he could be the first to tell me in person as well.
He always made a big deal out of my birthdays, especially once things between us shifted. Even before I had a phone, he would always find a way to be at our house bright and early so he could give me my gift and a birthday hug.
My brain wars over what hurts more—not getting anything from him last year other than a broken heart, or him sweeping back into my life only to forget.
Both suck.
He freaking sucks, I think to myself as I roll my blanket out, making myself a cozy little nest to curl up with my latest read. Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I can’t have a birthday adventure.
I settle in, leaning against the trunk of my favorite old oak tree—the very same one I fell out of that fateful day—and power up my Kindle.
Before I know it, I’m lost in the pages and I’m no longer a sad girl in a field. Instead, I’m a teenage wolf shifter fighting like hell to keep my alpha status a secret from our new pack.
That is, until a pair of headlights and a familiar engine rumble cut through the field, robbing me of both my solitude and my peace.
I bookmark my place on my Kindle and darken the screen as he kills the engine and opens his door.
“What are you doing here?”
“I knew you’d be here,” comes his reply, like that somehow miraculously explains his appearance. “Well, I checked your dorm first.”
“I thought you were with the guys,” I say, finger-quotes and all.
