by Staci Hart
For much of my life, birthdays had been just another day, a day of no consequence. I didn’t want for more, it was just another truth, a solid fact. It seemed the rules of life, of normalcy, had never applied to me. But I took it for what it was. Just woke up every day and kept going.
The first year West and I lived together, the notion that I’d never had a birthday party shocked him. He then made it his personal mission to show me the appeal. I’ll admit, there wasn’t much like the feeling. It’s a day to pay tribute to someone you love, and the gratitude I felt with each passing year was more than I could express. I never expected it, yet it always came just the same, on warm wings.
The girls sat around a table behind us talking, though Ellie and Max, one of the guys from the shop, blew past us toward the door, holding hands. Joel was in the middle of a story —one that required a lot of hand waving and gesticulation — when I felt a hand on my arm.
I turned to find Rose.
She smiled softly and looked down at her hand, to the small box resting between her fingers. “I, ah … I wanted to give you this.” She extended the gift and lifted her eyes to meet mine.
Rose was somehow a thousand miles away and just beyond my reach.
I took the box and touched her arm, turning us to an empty table nearby. The gift was in a black box, tied with a thin gold ribbon.
She leaned on the stool, hooking one hot pink heel on the bottom rung. “I wanted you to know that I’m glad we’ve been hanging out lately. I’ve … I’ve missed you a lot, your friendship,” she said, eyes darting to mine briefly.
I nodded, looking back down at the box again. “Me too.”
“Anyway, happy birthday, Patrick. Here’s to another year.” She raised her glass, and I touched the rim of mine to hers before we took a drink. She smiled at me. “Well, go ahead and open it.”
I set down my glass and turned the box over in my hand before pulling the ribbon to untie it. When I lifted the lid, I found a worn old brown key, flat and utilitarian, strung on a chain that matched. The key was engraved with the word Survive in simple lettering.
Rose took a breath and began to speak. She was nervous. “I know it may seem strange, me giving you a necklace, but you don’t have to wear it. I just saw it, and it made me think of you. No matter what life’s thrown at you, no matter what happens, you always find a way to survive. You’re indestructible.”
My throat tightened. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, but you are. You just don’t realize it, which is why I wanted you to have that key. So you can be reminded.”
I took it out of the box and slipped it around my neck, inspecting it once more before dropping it into my shirt, where it hung just below my heart. “Thank you, Rose.”
She smiled, the one that closed her off to me, and stood, stepping back to put more space between us. “You’re welcome.”
I watched her walk away, feeling the cold metal key against my chest as I gathered the box and ribbon.
I’d looked into her eyes and made my wish, and then she gave me a gift that made me wonder if there wasn’t a way to have what I’d wished for. Because I wanted her. It was just another solid fact.
Rose
An hour or so later, we all made our way up Broadway toward our apartment, stopping for pizza at the counter on the way, snarfing it on the way home. Everyone was buzzed, and Patrick might have been drunk, though I wasn’t sure. You never could tell with him, and it was rare to see him well and truly blazed. It was because of the drugs, he’d told me once. He was always afraid he’d slip, if his inhibitions were low enough. But he drank almost exclusively with us. It was where he felt safe, I knew.
Ellie had disappeared just before we left, flying by me in a sparkling whirl to tell me not to worry, that she’d call me, so Lily, West, Patrick and I walked back to the apartment, laughing and eating, just like the old days.
We parted ways with Lily and West in the hall just outside my door with the exchange of a few last minute jokes and a few hugs. And for one fleeting moment as they walked to West’s apartment, Lily tucked into his side, all I could think of was just how different everything was.
I slipped my key in the door, very aware of Patrick behind me as I unlocked it and pushed it open.
A shoe hit the back of the door, and I jumped, my heart stopping from the shock.
Ellie’s naked leg popped over the back of the couch, followed by a burst of giggling just before a man’s boot flew toward me. I ducked just in time, and Patrick held up his hand to bat it away.
“Oh, my God,” I said to myself.
Patrick sighed as he set down his bag of gifts. “That’s my bed.”
More giggling. The disco dress flew up in the air.
I closed the door and ran a hand through my hair. “You’ll have to sleep in Lily’s room, I guess.”
Max sat up and pulled off his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder, grinning as he disappeared behind the back of the couch. No one had acknowledged our entrance.
Patrick shook his head. “I know Max. This isn’t going to be over any time soon, and I don’t know if I can deal with them moving that into the bedroom.” He gestured to the couch.
I gave him a flat look. “So you’re going home?”
His eyebrow climbed, and he smirked. “You really think West and Lily are going to go to sleep tonight? I have to work in the morning.”
I blinked, not getting what he was after. “So, then, what?”
He shrugged and started pulling off his boots. “I’m sleeping in your bed.”
All the blood in my body rushed to my face. “The hell you are,” I sputtered.
One boot hit the ground and he reached for the other, smiling at me over his shoulder. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers, if you want. Swear I won’t make a move. I just want to sleep.” The other boot hit the ground.
I pictured him stretched out in my bed, eyes closed, his naked back, covered in tattoos, rising and falling as he —
“No.” I threw the word at him like Thor’s hammer.
The Patrick who usually stood back and followed my lead was MIA, replaced with a rogue bearing a crooked smile and a devil-may-care attitude. I decided then that he must definitely be drunk.
“Rose,” he said as Max growled and Ellie giggled in answer, “it’s my birthday, and all I want is a good night’s sleep. You’re really going to say no?”
I folded my arms. “Yup.”
He chuckled, dark eyes twinkling at me as he turned. “It’s happening. You want to take a chance in Lily’s room?”
I gnawed on my lip as I watched him walk through my apartment, stripping off his jacket, the muscles under his shirt bulging. He glanced at the couch and made a face before looking back at me.
“I’m telling you, Rose. You don’t want to be subjected to that fuckery.”
I clenched my teeth and huffed. Having him in my bed was beyond dangerous, but no, I didn’t want to witness my cousin getting nailed into next week, and I didn’t want him to have to either. And he had to play the fucking birthday card.
“Fine,” I said, the word flat, though it still held an edge. “No funny business, Tricky. I’ve got a baseball bat under my bed, and I’m not afraid to brain you if you get grabby.”
His back was to me, but I swear he was smiling.
I walked past the couch, risking a look at Ellie and Max, which was a mistake. They were a writhing flesh pretzel, right there in my living room, and there were zero fucks to be given by either of them. They’d spent all their fucks on each other.
Thank God I’d left the light off.
I sped up to try to leave that visual behind me, though it didn’t work. What did work was what I saw when I turned into my room.
It was nearly dark, with just the small lamp next to my bed lit, and Patrick stood on the far side of my bed, reaching over his shoulder to grab his shirt between his shoulder blades. He pulled it over his head, exposing his tattoos. The centerpiece was a replication of The H
ermit, a tarot card, with the roman numeral nine just above. He wore a gray hooded robe and a white beard, head bowed, staff in one hand and a lantern in the other, extended in front of him to light the night. The only variation was that the hermit’s hands were tattooed just like Patrick’s.
It was a symbol of loneliness and of enlightenment, one of searching and introspection. The surrounding art was all line and dot work, giving it the feeling of movement, almost like the illustration was reverberating.
I realized I’d stopped walking and hurried over to my dresser to dig for a pair of shorty shorts and a T-shirt. When I glanced over, he was stepping out of his pants, his sculpted ass in tight, short boxer briefs right there, right in front of me.
Pretty sure fire sprinklers went off in my panties.
I turned — it was the only way I could force myself to look away — and went into the bathroom to change, talking myself down all the way. I washed my face. Tried not to freak out when I saw his toothbrush next to mine and brushed my teeth with a little more vigor than was entirely necessary. And then, I made my way back to my room, feeling like there was a bomb in my bed. I guess in a way, there was.
Patrick lay on his back, arm hooked over his forehead, eyes closed and chest rising and falling slowly. He was almost asleep, if he wasn’t already.
I hoped to God he was as I slipped in next to him and turned off the light.
He sighed and rolled over to face me. “Thanks, Rose. Really. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.” I settled into my pillow, willing him to stay right where he was. I wasn’t sure I had the power to stop him if didn’t.
“It was a good birthday,” he said softly.
“I’m glad,” I whispered back. And then, he was asleep, although I didn’t know if there was enough whiskey in the world to knock me out with him that close to me. So I stared in his direction, wondering how I’d gotten to where I was, lying across from the boy who I couldn’t escape but couldn’t have.
17
DEAL
Patrick
I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TIME it was when I woke — the room was pitch dark, her fan whirring — but it was day, I knew. Though as my brain shook off the dust of sleep, I realized my wish had come true, in part, at least.
Rose and I were wrapped in each other — her body pressed against mine, my arms around her as she slept. Her face was buried in my chest, her breath hot and steady against my skin. We’d always slept like that, found each other even in sleep, needing to touch.
It can’t be real.
I didn’t move, couldn’t move, worried she’d wake and the moment would pass. Because in that moment, the wall would slide between us again, closing me off. But for now, it was gone, and she was in my arms.
I’d dreamed of it a hundred times.
But I only had a taste, a glimpse before she sighed, and as quickly as I’d gotten it, it was gone.
When she realized what was happening, she jolted back, rolling over to get away just like she had on the couch. I grabbed her arm as she swore, keeping her from toppling onto the floor.
“Whoa, there,” I said with a laugh.
The light clicked on, and she blinked at me. “I … I’m sorry.”
I propped my head up with my arm and smirked. “What for?”
She made a face and hit me with a pillow.
I chuckled and smoothed my hair that had fallen in my face. “I don’t think either of us needs to apologize. But I’ll tell you one thing.”
She hugged the pillow to her chest. “What’s that?”
I tried not to look at the curve of her hip and naked thigh, even though they were in my periphery, mocking me. “I’m not sleeping on the couch anymore. This is the best night’s sleep I’ve had in forever.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No way. That was your birthday treat. One night of sleep, hand delivered. You’re on your own, mister.”
“Come on, Rose. Do you want me to beg?”
She eyed me.
“All right.” I flipped off the covers and climbed over her, making a show of it as she giggled. I got down on my knees next to her bed and clasped my hands, face in a solemn pout and eyes as puppy-dogged as I could get them. “Rose Fisher, I’m the scum of the earth and don’t even deserve to breathe your air, but if you’d only let me crash in your bed, I’d give life and limb.”
Doubt flickered across her brow as she rolled over to face me. “I don’t know, Tricky.”
I took her warm hands, smiling past the thundering of my heart. It was a window I could climb in. A small one, only open a crack, but it was there. I told her the truth. “It’s temporary. I swear, I’ll behave. I know where you stand, and I’m not asking you for more.” Yet.
She snickered. “So you’re just using me for sleep.”
“Is it so wrong?”
She laughed, and hope bloomed in my chest.
“You’d do the same.”
“True,” she conceded and watched me for a beat. “Let me think about it.”
“Come on, Rose. It’s not a big deal. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that couch is?”
“No, tell me about it, you big baby.”
“Oh, you’re gonna play it like that. All right, well, then you asked for it.” I grabbed her by the arm and thigh, flipping her over as her face stretched in surprise.
“Oh, my God!” she squealed. “Don’t you fucking do it, Tricky!”
I pinned her down, grinning. “Nuh-uh. You asked for it.” I held her arms behind her back and squeezed the back of her thigh, just above her knee.
She screamed, laughing and thrashing, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“Come on, Rosie. Let me stay.”
I squeezed again, and her hair flipped, whipping me in the face as she laughed hysterically. She couldn’t speak.
I wiggled my fingers, digging them into her thigh. “Say yes and I’ll stop.”
She gasped. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna pee.”
I laughed and squeezed again, and her feet thumped against the mattress.
“Fine!” she said, half laughing, half gasping for breath. “Fuck, stop it!” She broke out in a fit of giggles again. “You win!”
My smile widened as I climbed off her. “See? That was easy.”
She rolled over, still laughing, wiping tears from her face. “You fucking dick,” she said and pointed a finger at me, trying for stern, but I found all the permission I needed behind the facade, something in her eyes, the corners of her lips. “Don’t make me regret it, Tricky.”
“Never,” I said as I stood.
I made my way to my clothes and sorted through them, pulling on my pants first, buttoning the fly. When I looked up, Rose’s eyes were on my hands, bottom lip between her teeth. I tried to suppress the smile, looking back down to grab my shirt and pretend like I hadn’t just seen it. But I had.
Something about her lying in bed, watching me, chest still heaving as she caught her breath … I had a shot, all right. I had a damn good shot.
“See you around, Rose,” I said as I picked up my leather jacket and headed for the door, looking back at her once more as she turned off the light again and settled back into bed.
“Later, Tricky.”
I closed the door and quit trying to play it cool, walking through the apartment and down the hall to my place, practically whistling Dixie.
Hope. I had real hope for the first time in a very long time.
Lily and West were still asleep, and I got ready for work, showered, shaved, and dressed, smiling all the while. The feeling of Rose in my arms was still fresh, the smell of her. That taste I’d gotten wasn’t enough. I needed more.
If ever a woman was a drug, it was her.
The spring in my step hadn’t left me as I headed to work, feeling like a fucking baller. And it was apparent enough that Joel looked at me like I had an extra leg when I walked through the door to the shop.
“You have a good night, Tricky?”
I smi
rked and walked up to the counter. “You could say that.”
He eyed me, smiling from the other side. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t. But I’m back in the game.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Well, how about that. You kiss her?”
“Nope.”
He snorted. “Doesn’t sound like you’re all that deep back in the game.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “But that’s the thing, Joel. When it comes to Rose, slow and steady is the only way.”
“Well,” he said as he laid his palms on the surface and a know-it-all tone to his words, “if you didn’t even kiss her, then how, pray tell, are you back in her good graces?”
“I have Max to thank for that. If he hadn’t been nailing Ellie on Rose’s couch, I couldn’t have insisted that I slept in her bed.”
Joel laughed, a big, full sound. “She did not agree to that.”
“Oh, she did. And when I woke this morning …” I sighed. “We were wound up in each other, and somehow I convinced her to let me sleep in her bed for the short-term future.”
He shook his head, amused. “Of all the things. You sneaky fuck.”
I put up my hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t say a thing that wasn’t true. In part, I really, really don’t want to sleep on her couch again. I also really don’t want to sleep in my apartment. I just didn’t mention that I really do want to sleep with her.”
He snickered.
“I told her I’d keep my hands to myself though, and I will. For now. She’s going to have to make the move. I might nudge her into it, but I think she’ll do it. I really do.”
“Working your way in like a goddamn emotional ninja.”
I shrugged. “Hidden talents.”
He held out a hand, and I slapped it. “Well, good for you, man. I hope it works.”
And I smiled, imagining that day. “I do too.”