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“I’m sorry, babe, but that’s nothing new.”
“It’s his birthday tomorrow.”
I go over the dates in my head, and shit, she’s right.
Yasmin gives me a knowing look. “You forgot about it, didn’t you?”
“Who? Me? No way.”
“You totally did.”
“Okay, maybe. But there’s been a lot going on.” I wave her off. “Seriously, though, you know that this is just the beginning, right? Next year when he goes pro, things will be even more intense.”
“I know. That’s why I planned this whole thing. It’s our first year that we’ve been married, and with everything awaiting us… I just wanted to make it count, you know?”
“You can still do it when he gets home.”
“That’s the plan,” she lets out a sigh. “I guess I’m just bummed that Nixon had to have an away game tomorrow of all days. And here I was hoping to do something special for his birthday.”
“Like what?”
“I was planning to bake him a cake, and then…” She bites her lip, and it takes my mind a moment to register where she’s going with this.
“Okay, I don’t want to know the rest. Thank you very much.”
Yasmin chuckles, “I figured as much. What have you been up to? Any boys grabbing your attention?”
The image of Prescott sprawled over my bed, shirtless, a book in his hand, pops into my mind. If only she knew.
“Nope,” I lie. “No boys.”
“You’re no fun.”
“At least I don’t have to think about when a guy’s birthday is and how to make it special for him.” I switch the channel, and ESPN pops on the screen. They’re doing a recap of a football game, and an idea pops into my mind. “Although…”
Yasmin shifts on the couch. “What?”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I mull it over. It’s slightly crazy, but… “What if you could still surprise him? No cake, but… the rest of it?”
She pulls her brows together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we could drive there and surprise Nixon.”
And Prescott. But I keep that last part to myself.
“But they’re away for a game…”
“So?” I shrug. “We’ll book a hotel room and go to the game. Have breakfast together. His birthday isn’t until tomorrow.” I check my watch, calculating the time. “Hell, I’m pretty sure we could make it there before midnight if we tried.”
Yasmin shakes her head. “This is crazy, Jade. We can’t—”
“Is it?” I wiggle my brows at her. “What do you say, Yas? Are you in?”
* * *
It takes us a good five hours, but we finally make it to the hotel. While I was driving Nixon’s car, Yasmin booked our rooms at the same hotel the team was staying at.
“Which is the guy’s room again?” I nonchalantly ask as we go to the elevators to head to our floor.
