Today, Ian turns twenty-seven.
A few days ago, Alex brought up his birthday in front of me, so I had to pretend like I was surprised and nobody had mentioned it to me before. He told me to drop it, and because we’re in this weird place that’s something more than roommates but something less than what I want, I did as he asked and acted like I was mad at him. For such a perceptive man, he sure does have a blind spot to things he doesn’t want to see. He wants to believe that I’ve dropped the birthday thing, so when he doesn’t see or hear of any evidence to the contrary, he accepts that I care about his birthday about as much as he does, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’ve been waiting for this day for a month. Ian retreated into himself after the Jenningses died in an unfortunate house fire that left no survivors, no evidence, and no leads—at least according to the investigators who the club paid off. I was at the end of my rope, having no idea what to do with him, when Ruby and Alex came to me, asking for help sorting out a top-secret birthday surprise. Neither of them actually need my help, but it makes me feel good to be included. All I’ve really done is distract Ian from figuring out what’s going on at Ruby and Jim’s house today in preparation for the party at the clubhouse tonight, and I’m not even doing a great job at that. We were supposed to head out for the day an hour ago, but Ian had something mysterious come up suddenly, and he headed over there and hasn’t been back since. He gave me an extra hour to get ready, so I spent extra time making myself presentable, but I don’t like what I see in the mirror. I look like I’m trying way too hard.
I start over by going into our shared underwear drawer and pulling out a dark red bra and panty set I bought a few weeks ago. The sexy black push-up bra and thong set I got specifically for today is just not comfortable for too long. Maybe, if I play my cards right, I’ll be able to get him to touch me tonight. He’s given in a few times since the first time we had sex, but it always ends the same. He’s angry because I’ve pushed the limits, which just results in it taking even longer for him to give in to me the next time. I hate anything to hurt him, especially if it’s me who’s hurting him, so I’m working on it. Every day when he leaves to deal with club shit, I work on my “issues” in our bed. He probably knows I’m doing it, at least some of the time, but it’s not something we ever talk about. I just want to be better for him. He deserves better than what I’m giving him.
With the more comfortable red set on, I go into our shared sock drawer and grab a pair of his socks. It’s passive-aggressive to dirty all his socks, sure, but he’s the one who left me here and didn’t even ask me to come to the house with him. Not that he cares much. He knows I’ve been doing it and will just re-wear them the next day no matter how dirty I get them. In the bathroom, my toothbrush rests next to his in the mounted holder, but I use his instead and snicker to myself because it seems so taboo to use someone else’s toothbrush. There’s probably hygiene warnings against it, but I don’t give a shit. The rest of my morning routine flies by pretty quickly.
I dress in a pair of skinny jeans and my black boots. I pull out the white low-cut tank I had Ruby order for me that reads FORSAKEN across the chest and PROPERTY OF IAN on the back, and I slide into it. Then, like the chicken shit I am, I pull a black tank over the top of it. He hasn’t seen the tank yet, and I don’t know how he’s going to feel about it. I don’t really want to be stuck in the SUV with him for most of the day if he’s going to be in a foul mood. I still can’t believe how far Ruby and I have come in the last few weeks. I suspect Ryan’s big mouth told her what happened in that bathroom. She looks at me differently now, with respect and kindness in her eyes.
I nearly make it to the front door before realizing how sunny it is outside and deciding to grab my sunglasses. The walk-in closet has two sets of shelves that are shallow and wide, like they’re meant for shoes. There’s just so much space that my and Ian’s shoes combined don’t take up much space, so I repurposed the upper-level shelving for my accessories. I’m running out of time to get to Ruby and Jim’s in time for Holly to arrive, so I rush into the closet and grab the glasses, then spin around to head out.
Something on the floor of the closet catches my eye and stops me in my tracks. It’s the old red purse I was using to hide the cash Ian has given me that I choose not to spend. There’s close to eight grand in there now, but it’s off-limits. Or is it?
“You can’t spend it,” I say aloud, as if verbalizing this conversation will make the wheels stop turning in my head. “It would be wrong.