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It doesn’t help that my birthday is on Saturday.
It’s a day I usually spend with my mom, eating too much ice cream and doing something fun and silly just to celebrate being alive.
But this year, we can’t do any of that.
She wanted me to come visit her at the prison, but her visitation hours are getting low, and I told her it’s more important for her to meet with Scott than me, so she can get him on board with her defense strategy. It’s true, but I’m also just not sure I’d be able to keep from breaking down and sobbing if I go see her on my birthday, and I don’t want to make her feel sad.
I wake up early on Saturday morning and stare up at the ceiling, listening to the quiet sound of my breath.
I’m in the guest room down the hall from Dax and Chase in the Lauders’ house. When River and Linc delivered my bags the day after Christmas, the twins set me up in an actual room of my own. I’ve slept in Dax’s room a couple more times, curled up between the two boys, but the rest of the time, I’ve been in the massive guest bedroom.
Part of me is champing at the bit to take things further with them, but just like it did with River, something is holding me back. I’m learning to trust my gut on this, to let things happen at their own pace with these boys and believe that they’ll work out just like they’re supposed to.
I don’t doubt the bond between all of us. It may have been created by Iris’s death, but it’s been solidified by so much more than that since then. Still, there’s something fragile and delicate about this five-way relationship we’re building. It’s all new to me, and I’d rather take things slow than rush into it too fast and wreck it somehow.
It means too much to me.
I do sort of regret sleeping alone last night though. My birthday has put me in a weird funk, and I thought I needed to be by myself to get through the day, but maybe I was wrong about that.
Yesterday, I told the guys I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday, because I worry that no matter what I do, I’ll just spend the whole time thinking about Mom and missing her. And if I do manage to have fun, that’ll only make me feel worse, in a way.
The clock on the nightstand reads 6:47 a.m. It’s gonna be a long fucking twenty-four hours, so even though I’m not really tired, I close my eyes and try to doze for a while longer.
A knock on the door wakes me from a half-sleep at around nine, and I roll over onto my side as I call out, “Come in.”
I’m sure it’s the twins. There’s no one else it could be. I’ve learned to treat Mr. and Mrs. Lauder like the wildlife on a safari. Don’t bother them, and they won’t bother you. They know I’m staying here, and unlike River’s parents, I see them around the house all the time. But they just smile politely and ignore me.
It’s so fucking weird.
“Hey.” Chase’s copper hair appears as he pokes his head inside the room. “You gonna sleep all day?”
I shrug, the motion hampered by the covers that are pulled up around my ears. It hasn’t snowed since Christmas, but it’s still too fucking cold. “Was thinking about it.”
He pulls a face, sympathy overtaking his features. Then he opens the door wider, and both he and Dax step inside. They cross to the bed and sit down, Dax’s hand finding my hip through the covers. The warm weight of his palm is comforting.
“You can’t, Low. Sorry.” Chase grimaces, and I prop myself up onto one elbow, wondering if something’s happened.
“Why? Did you find out something about the Waverly girl?”
“No.” Dax shakes his head. “Still working on that. But… well, River had an idea, and
we all thought it was a good one. We know you said you didn’t want to do anything for your birthday, but you never said you didn’t want to do anything on your birthday. So we sort of made plans.”
I scowl, but I can’t make the sour expression stay on my face. I did say I didn’t want to do anything, but with the entire day looming empty before me, I was just starting to regret that.
“What plans?” I ask.
“You’ll see when we get there,” Chase says, his grimace disappearing as a smile takes its place. Then he gives my ass a little slap. “Get up and get dressed. We’ll have breakfast ready downstairs.”
I lift my eyebrows, sort of liking this pampered feeling.
“Okay.” I put on a faux aristocratic voice. “I prefer my Eggs Benedict lightly poached.”
Dax chuckles. “I can give ’em to you scrambled and rubbery. How do you feel about that?”
“I guess I’ll take it.” I laugh and slip out of bed to head to the attached bathroom. Even the guest bedroom has one, and it’s fancy as fuck.
The promised breakfast is waiting downstairs when I’m done, and despite Dax’s big words, the eggs are actually cooked perfectly. They made coffee too, and Chase hands me a cup as I settle into a seat at the marble island overlooking the backyard through floor-to-ceiling windows.
