So Screwed

by Melissa Marino

  “Because I had an agenda this morning,” he said, entering the room holding a plate in front of him.

  Two large cupcakes, swirled with frosting and sprinkles on top, sat on top of the plate. Two birthday candles flickered from the middle of each of them as he cautiously crossed the room before sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.

  “Happy Birthday, beautiful,” he said, holding the plate out to me.

  It was a small thing, but it was one of the most thoughtful gestures any man had ever done for me. So many thought it was about flowers and expensive jewelry to get us excited, but it was always the subtle things. He smiled, his hair still messy and his glasses were on, making him look so unbelievably sexy.

  “Happy Birthday, handsome. This is…amazing,” I said, looking at the cupcakes. “Should we blow them out together?”

  “Count of three?”

  “Wait. Which one is mine?” I asked.

  “You can pick. This one,” he said, pointing to the cupcake with the yellow candle. “Is vanilla birthday cake flavored with buttercream frosting. The other one is chocolate with peanut butter swirls and a milk chocolate ganache.”

  “Oh,” I groaned. “Chocolate peanut butter. You sure do know the way to my heart.”

  “I do my best,” he said with a wink. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded, and he counted down as I thought of a wish.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  We blew our candles out at the same time, our wishes released into the air for the universe to place. I leaned over, kissing him as a thank-you for his thoughtfulness.

  “Can we eat them now?” I asked.

  “Fuck yes. It’s our birthday. Cupcakes for breakfast are a given,” he said, picking off the candles.

  “Where did you get these so early?” I asked.

  “Well, it isn’t exactly early anymore, but since I didn’t know when you’d get up, I snuck out a few hours ago to go to one of those cupcake ATM thingies.”

  “You did?” I asked, flipping my bottom lip into a pout. “So sweet, Abel.”

  He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “That was the plan, get you all full of the sweet.”

  He set them to the side before peeling away at the liners on each of the cupcakes. He picked up mine, and I frowned, assuming he was going to steal mine.

  He held it in his large hand, bringing it close to my mouth. “You first,” he said.

  I bit into the side, taking in the most delicious mixture of chocolate and peanut butter my mouth had ever known so early in the day. It was his turn, so I picked up the vanilla cupcake and repeated the same motions.

  We nodded to each other as we swallowed our bites before I remembered I had something for him.

  “Hang tight right here,” I said, swinging my legs out from under the covers. “I have to get something from my purse.”

  I got up from my bed, my naked body on display for him as I searched around for my undies and something to throw on.

  “No need to put anything on,” he said, taking another bite of his cupcake. “I’m only going to have you naked again so we can ride out our sugar high.”

  I flipped my hair out of my face to look at him as I was still bent over. He raised his brows, and I decided I’d let him have that one. He did surprise me with cupcakes. What was a little morning romp for the birthday boy going to hurt?

  I stood and headed out of the room to grab my purse. As I walked about his apartment in the buff, I was reminded of how comfortable I’d become around him. While confident in my body, an open view was something I thought most women had issue with. It wasn’t only with nakedness, though. Smeared makeup and dirty hair would’ve had me running for the shower, fearful of him seeing me less than perfect in the morning. If he wanted me then, called me beautiful with bedhead and bad breath, I knew he wanted me at all times.

  I pulled the small gift bag from my purse and returned to the bedroom to find Abel staring at his cell phone, his face frowning.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  His head snapped to me, his face pale. I moved toward the bed, worried, because I’d never seen him with such an expression.

  “Abel?”

  His eyes searched around my face, and after a few moments, he shook his head. “Sorry, I was a—” He paused, blinking his eyes and clearing his throat. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

  “Are you sure? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

  “I’m sure. Now why aren’t you back in bed with me yet?”

  Whatever it was, it was gone now. I wanted to press a bit more, but it was our birthdays and I didn’t want a petty debate over nothing to get in the way of that.

  The shirt he was wearing was off, and he was under the top sheet in bed. It was folded down and over at the end of his treasure trail, his toned lower ab muscles creating a V that reached beneath the covers.

  “What do you have there?” he asked as I slid back into bed next to him.

  I set the bag on his chest. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

  “It is and it’s yours as well. Look underneath your pillow.”

  I sat up and flipped the pillow over. Several strands of red ribbon were delicately wrapped and secured with a bow around a vintage-looking book. The worn edges, the color, which appeared to have once been dark green or blue, was now discolored to a muted tone. A gold leaf pattern, something resembling feathers, while also worn decorated the cover. The intertwining ribbons blocked the book title from me identifying what it was.

  I picked it up and laid it on my lap, looking over at Abel. His eyes crinkled together in nervousness, and I had to laugh. “What’s with the face? I don’t even know what it is yet and I love it already.”

  He shrugged. “Go ahead and find out then.”

  I gently tugged at the ribbons and pulled them away, the title Pride and Prejudice in the same gold letters appeared.

  “Oh my God,” I said, covering my mouth. “Are you serious?”

  I choked back tears as his hand palmed the side of my face. “Do you like it? It’s not a real first edition, but it is from the late 1800s.”

  My fingers ran across the front as a few tears got out. “This is literally the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” I said, turning to him. “Thank you isn’t strong enough.”

  His hand still on my cheek brushed away the tears with his thumb. “Then you’re welcome.”

  “Please open yours so I don’t ruin the moment by freaking out about how expensive this probably was and how you shouldn’t have and all that other bullshit.”

  I watched him lift the small glass bottle from the bag, turning it back and forth in his hand, trying to figure out what exactly it was. “Okay, don’t think I’m a dick, but it’s one of two things. It’s either a really expensive shot of tequila or unicorn piss. Either way, I’m stoked.”

  “Ha-ha. Take the top off and smell it.”

  He untwisted the cork top and, while looking at me, brought it to his nose. “Clue me in, beautiful.”

  “So, you know how I made my own perfume? No one else has this scent. Well, I made one for you.”

  He grinned and let out a strong laugh. His hand brushed up and down his beard as he inhaled it again.

  “It’s dumb, right?” I asked. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I mixed this because it reminded me of you. It has cedar and sandalwood with this light coffee extract, but to balance it out, I added in some citrus with the tiniest hint of tobacco to make it super sexy. Oh, and—”

  His mouth on mine cut off my babbling while his lips still tasted like sugar. “You made this for me?” he mumbled against my lips.

  “Yes.”

  “And no one else has it?” he asked, moving from my lips and dragging kisses down my jaw to my neck.

  “Nope.”

  He pulled away and stared into my eyes. “I didn’t even make a wish when I blew out the candle because you are everything. You are
everything I would’ve wished for.”

  * * *

  We’d talked about what to do on our birthday for a while and had planned a beach day, dinner, and drinks with Aaron and Callie. However, our plans changed. We had sex and napped through most of the day, watching a movie in between. A swanky dinner was replaced by takeout from our favorite Thai place. There was no choice but to keep our plans to meet Aaron and Callie at a bar on top of the roof of one of Chicago’s ritziest hotels.

  They were waiting for us by the host stand when we arrived fashionably late.

  “Late enough?” Callie asked with a joking glare.

  Or what Callie would call just plain late.

  “You’re lucky it’s your birthdays,” she said, pulling me into a hug.

  After a round of hugs and “Happy Birthdays” all around, we followed the hostess through the crowd across the breezy rooftop bar. We were brought to a cozy booth in the back corner, dark wood benches with matching railings surrounding us.

  “I have to go to the ladies’ room,” I said before sitting.

  “Actually,” Aaron said. “So do I. You know, with all that waiting around, it will make anyone have to go.”

  “What? Go to the ladies’ room?” Abel asked Aaron.

  “Ha-ha. Grow up.”

  “You want me to get you something?” Callie asked Aaron.

  “Yeah. The usual.”

  “Usual for you, too, beautiful?”

  The subtlety of knowing my drink choice was probably overlooked by the others, but it spoke volumes to me. Callie and Aaron were in that comfortable, daily spot in their relationship and ordering a drink was the norm. To imagine Abel and I were nearing a point where we knew something so basic made our thing much more solid.

  “Yeah. Thanks, handsome,” I said, leaning down to kiss him.

  “Oh God,” Callie snorted. “You two make me sick.”

  “Like we both haven’t had to sit through hours of you two and your gross love shit.”

  Aaron’s hand rubbed Callie’s back. “We’re still into all that gross love shit.”

  He kissed her on the cheek before I shook my head and turned to head toward the bathroom following Aaron. Weaving our way through the crowded bar, Aaron would gently tap on a shoulder to move, and when one very large dude didn’t want to, Aaron grabbed my hand while checking the dude out of the way.

  “What the fuck?” Big Dude said. “You made me spill my drink.”

  He stepped up to Aaron, and I got nervous. The Matthews temper was nothing to mess around with as I’ve learned, but it was rare to see it out of Aaron.

  Aaron leaned into him, shouting in his ear over the music. “I’ll get you another drink and a round for your friends here, but you move out of the way when a lady is trying to get past.”

  I didn’t know how he did it. His tone, his delivery was smooth as melted chocolate, and the guy ate it right up. A slap on Aaron’s back as a thank-you, and we continued on with Aaron holding my hand until we made it through.

  When we made it to the hallway connecting to the restrooms, I breathed a relieved sigh. “Risky, Aaron, but I’m impressed.”

  He shrugged. “You’re like a sister to me now. I don’t want anyone to mess with you.”

  “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

  “And that goes for my brother, too,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed tightly. “I’ve never seen either of you happier, and it seems to be going well. I’m happy about that. And it goes without saying that I’d lay my life down for Abel.”

  “I know that.”

  “Just…he missteps at times, and you need to be prepared for that.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I want to tell you I am being careful, but I’m not. I’m being so reckless with my feelings and everything with him that I can’t see straight sometimes, but what is the alternative?”

  “I don’t want you, either of you, to get hurt.”

  “You know you can’t control that.”

  “I know,” he said, sighing. “You’re right. I can’t control it. I just care about you both. His track record—”

  “I’m in love with him, Aaron.”

  He tilted his head to the side, and with a moment’s delay, a small grin emerged. “You are?”

  “Yes. And that’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. He doesn’t know. Hell, Callie doesn’t even. I maybe didn’t even know until this moment, but I am.”

  “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  “And I get where you’re coming from. I hear it from you, Callie, your dad, and even Abel. He never feels like he could measure up.”

  “I know he internalizes a lot of shit. My dad and I joke, but there is an element of truth. He needs to get his feet firmly planted, and I know he’s getting there, Ev. I see it. It’s why I’m going into business with him. I’m proud he’s taking it on because I think, at this point in his life, he’s finally ready.”

  No one knew Abel better than Aaron. I had always assumed, but now I was certain. Abel was so confident on the exterior, but I saw more than that. There was a drive, a desire, behind his doubtful interior. It warmed me to know Aaron was starting to see that, too.

  “I think so, too, and I know it means a lot to him. Okay,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have my own business to take care of.”

  We both went in our respective bathrooms, and when I came out, he was waiting for me. As we approached the table, I could hear Callie dirt dishing to Abel.

  “And that is why she can’t or, rather, shouldn’t drink tequila,” Callie said.

  “Are you kidding me, Cal?” I asked, sliding into the booth next to Abel. “I was gone forty-seven seconds and you had time for the tequila story? That was, like, over two years ago, and I stand by my story that that tequila was tainted or something.”

  “As a professional mixologist, the tainted tequila problem in Chicago is out of control,” Abel said, stifling a laugh.

  “All right. All right,” Aaron said, lifting his Scotch. “Can we drop the tequila so we can toast? Happy birthday to the double twenty-fives.”

  We joined our glasses together, a mix of “cheers” and splashing booze from overfilled glasses rained over us.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ABEL—

  Seriously?” she asked as I pulled up to the restaurant.

  It was our last night together, and I had a special evening planned. Judging by her confused look, she wasn’t feeling it.

  “What? I thought you enjoyed some beef from time to time?” I asked, putting the car in park.

  “It’s Carson’s Ribs. Ribs.”

  “Yeah? And?” I asked, smiling. The valet came to my side and impatiently tapped his fingers against his leather coat. “Ready?”

  “Ribs are pork, Abel,” she said.

  “No they’re not. They’re beef.”

  “They can be but these,” she said, pressing her finger against the passenger window and leaving a mark, “are pork.”

  “You afraid of getting a little messy?”

  “I’m never afraid to get messy. You should know that by now.”

  “We can go somewhere else,” I said. “You know, if you aren’t game for the whole maybe-pork-maybe-beef-but-not-afraid-of-getting-messy thing.”

  She rolled her eyes and swung the car door open, placing her high heel on the wet pavement. “I’m game for anything.”

  They were pork, and while I wasn’t satisfied by this development until verified by two different waiters and one of the chefs, it didn’t hamper the rest of dinner. We feasted on warm corn bread, loaded baked potatoes, and barbecue baby back ribs. Dessert was key lime pie, which we were sharing, when she tapped my hand with her fork.

  “In light of our last night together for a while, tell me something that no one knows, like something you’d be embarrassed for people to find out.”

  “Hmm,” I said, thinking while scraping some graham cracker crumbs onto my f
ork. “I don’t know. I’ve left myself a pretty open book for you.”

  “Everyone has something. Like, what is the thing you do when no one else is around? Me? I like to listen to and sing ABBA and Dolly Parton songs. I’ll blast it and dance around my apartment, pretending I’m on Star Search. Your turn?”

  I scooped up a piece of pie. “Same.”

  She smacked my arm. “Don’t be a dick. I just admitted to something mortifying.”

  “Okay,” I said, pulling her hand into mine. “I’ve been fiddling with a book, writing one, for three years.”

  She set her fork down. “What? Are you serious?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  “I know it’s silly, but it’s one of those things I’ve always liked to do, even when I was little. It started off as a final year project in college, and I don’t know. It kind of stuck with me. I can’t even explain the feeling I get when I’m doing it or what it feels like when I’m not. I think it’s something I have to do with some regularity, in some form, or I’m not me. I know it probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, and I wasn’t specifically trying to hide it from you, but I don’t know. It’s my thing.”

  Her expression was hard to read, even after knowing her so well. She appeared to be stuck somewhere between confused and humored. I shifted in my seat and glanced around the room to avoid whatever it was she was thinking.

  She squeezed my hand. “Handsome, you were supposed to tell me something embarrassing. You writing a book is spectacular.”

  “Well, you said something that no one else knew and that’s it. It’s a little embarrassing because I’m not very good at it, but—”

  “Look at me, Abel,” she said, interrupting me. “This is amazing. You have a passion. Do you know how special that is?”

  I shrugged. “It is, but it’s nothing worth bragging about.”

  “I don’t think you get to be the one to say that, but I want you to promise me something when I’m gone.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Use the time that I’m away, the time you’d been spending with me, and put it into your writing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your expression changed and your words sounded different just by talking about it. There’s obviously something there, and I want you to dig further in because I don’t think anyone has ever told you how incredible you are.”