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They saywhen you turn twenty-one, you feel different. It's like a sense of freedom washes over you, and it changes your outlook on life. For me, that's not the case. Maybe it's because I've been able to get my hands on alcohol since I was sixteen—you can get anything for the right price. Or maybe it's the fake ID that has been in my wallet since around the same time. Regardless of what it is, I feel no different today than I did yesterday, including my headspace.
The conversation I had with Tye, hearing about everything her dad did to her when she was just a little kid, it makes me sick to my stomach. Since that day, she hasn't wanted to talk about it, but I can't seem to get it out of my head. Her father getting out of prison is the worst thing that could happen to her. With losing Davianna and how out of control she's been, I can only imagine what that would do.
What kind of father does that to his child? Hell, what kind of person does that to any child? It happened a decade ago, but just knowing it happened at all makes my fist clench with the need to beat the man senseless. It's no wonder she's always been so closed off. She was destroyed by someone who was meant to protect her, and then betrayed by her mother in the worst way possible.
I groan as I stretch and rub my hands over my face, trying to focus on something else before I go out into the living room. Tye is nothing if not observant, and if she gets even an inkling that I'm still thinking about her confession, she might regret ever telling me in the first place.
As I make my way toward the coffee pot, I find Tye sitting on the couch—wide awake and typing rapidly on her computer. I grab two mugs and fill them both, making hers just the way she likes it. I carefully place it on the coffee table and sit beside her. It feels so domesticated, and while normally that would scare the shit out of me—and her too—we're just comfortable.
"How long have you been awake?" I ask.
She shrugs. "Since three. I couldn't sleep so I figured I'd work on the paper I have due on Wednesday."
Her decision to sleep on the couch was played off as she doesn't want Jace knowing anything, but I don't buy it. I've lain awake at night and listened to her toss and turn. She just doesn't want me to know that she's not sleeping. Ever since she was notified about her dad's parole hearing, she's been in total insomnia mode.
Closing her laptop, she turns to me and kisses my cheek. "You're an old man today."
A breathy laugh bubbles out of me. "You remembered."
She smiles. "You remembered mine. I guess it's only fitting."
I grab her computer and move it to the table beside us, hovering over her. "You know what my favorite thing about birthdays is?"
"What's that?" The smirk on her face tells me she's only asking because she wants to hear the answer.
I lean down and ghost my lips over hers, but just before I can kiss her, the door opens. Tye squeals and pushes me off her. My back hits the floor with a thud, and I hear Jace chuckle as he walks over toward the couch.
"You comfortable down there?" he asks with a smirk.
"Yeah," I groan. "You know, back problems come with aging."
"And you're just so old now." He turns to Tye, but she’s staring out the window like it’s her day job. "Careful. He's fragile."
It's his own way of saying he knows, and that comes as no surprise to me. He'd be stupid not to, really. He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. There's no way I would be so calm with this girl under my roof and not being able to have her. Still, we confirm nothing.
As he walks away, Tye leans over the side of the couch and cringes. "Sorry."
"Beating me up on my birthday," I tease. "It's very you."
I WALK INTO THEoverly extravagant restaurant my dad reserves every year for the same day. He thinks it's my favorite place, because I used to demand to come here whenever I was mad at him, simply so I could spend ridiculous amounts of his money. Little me thought it was a good way to get back at him. I was adorably naive back then. And now, I just don't have the heart to tell him that while the food here is delicious, it's not my first choice.
My dad stands from the table and wraps me in a hug. "Happy Birthday, son."
I smile and return his embrace before taking the seat across from him. "Thanks, Dad."
The waitress comes over quickly and takes my drink order—my dad already has a beer in front of him. For the first time, I legally order a beer and lean back against my seat. My dad grins at me.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asks.
I can't help but laugh. "Sure, but if you think that's the first time I've ordered a drink, you're not nearly as sharp-eyed as you played yourself off to be."
He chuckles. "I was born, but it wasn't yesterday."
After we order our food, we break into routine conversations about school and work. My dad tells me about a couple of cases he's working on. I think his goal is still for me to become a lawyer, but that's never going to happen. Jace and I are both majoring in business, and then we're going to take the corporate world by storm.
"So," my dad says, digging into his food, "what do you want for your birthday? A new car to replace the one your girlfriend ruined?"
"Actually, no. The Audi is just fine," I tell him. "What I want this year is a little unconventional."
