Claiming Lily

Chapter 1

Chapter One

LILY

My shoulders finally relax as I pull into the driveway. Matt’s truck is here, plus three others that belong to his best friends. There are a few more cars on the side of the road, more than normal. My heart skips.

Maybe he actually remembered my birthday this time.

I climb out of my BMW and tug my cardigan tighter against the late September chill.

There are two more weeks until October and already the crisp bite of mountain air holds the promise that winter is on the way.

Right now it feels perfect. I love having an autumn birthday.

Normally I’d take a vacation day, but my credit cards won’t pay themselves off. “Help! Someone help!”

The voice cuts through my good mood. I spin around, scanning the neighboring yards until I spot Mrs. Bertha Watts waving her cane frantically at the old oak tree in her front yard.

“Damn it, Whiskers! Get down from there!”

Her tabby cat perches on a branch about eight feet up, completely unbothered by his owner’s distress. I drop my purse back in the car and jog over. That cat is always causing trouble. He sure is cute though.

“Mrs. Watts, what happened?”

“That foolish cat chased a squirrel right up there and now he’s too scared to come down.” She brandishes her cane like a weapon. “I’ve been out here twenty minutes trying to coax him down.”

I eye the tree, then kick off my heels. The bark scrapes against my palms as I hoist myself up on a low branch, grateful for all those childhood years climbing trees to escape chores.

Whiskers meows pitifully when I reach his branch.

He loves getting into trouble, however, he has a hard time getting out of it.

We may have that in common.

“Come here, you drama king.” I scoop him up and cradle him to my chest, ignoring his claws digging into my blouse. “There we go.”

I hand him down to Mrs. Watts, who holds him like a baby. The cat’s ears flatten. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t appreciate the baby hold, but who am I to tell her that?

“Oh, bless you, dear. How can I ever repay you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind helping.” I brush bark bits off my hands. “You better get inside before it gets colder.”

She nods, already shuffling toward her front door. “You’re an angel, Lily.”

The excitement resurfaces as I head back to my car and grab my purse. I glance at the trucks and cars again. My chest flutters. Aspen and Callie are out of town, but maybe the guys planned something. Even if my best friends aren’t here, it’ll be fun to celebrate with my boyfriend and other friends.

Energy shoots through me like I took a shot of espresso.

I practically bounce up the front steps.

I try to ignore the fact I can see light spilling from every window in the house.

Growing up with Mom counting every penny, turning off lights became second nature.

Matt grew up different. He thinks I’m being ridiculous when I flip switches behind him, but old habits die hard.

It’s one of many things we fundamentally disagree about.

But not tonight. Tonight will be amazing.

I push open the front door and step inside. My foot catches on work boots that are sitting right in the middle of the entryway and I pitch forward. Gasping, I slap my hand against the wall to steady myself, wincing as my ankle protests at the twisted angle.

Irritation shoots through my veins. “Jesus Christ, Matt,” I mutter under my breath. We’ve talked about this dozens of times. I don’t want to be the nagging girlfriend, but I can only almost die so many times before I turn a little feral.

Okay. Deep breaths. If this is a birthday party, I can’t go in pissed. There could be cake and balloons and all the things I’ve been secretly hoping for since I woke up this morning.

I set my heels aside, moving Matt’s boots as well so no one else hurts themselves, and set my purse on the credenza.

I use the mirror above it to check my appearance, smoothing down my skirt and fixing my wind tossed red hair from the rescue.

I hope Whiskers learned his lesson. Brushing my fingers through my strands, I study my features.

When did I start looking so much like Mom?

My throat tightens and my brain threatens to go to a sad place.

The familiar sounds of gunfire and explosions cut through my grief. A string of curse words that would make a sailor blush drifts out of the living room.

My eyes flutter closed and disappointment douses me, a bucket of icy water. Those are definitely not surprise birthday sounds. The great thing about having a boyfriend who constantly disappoints me is that I’m too busy hurting from a failing relationship to be sad about Mom being sick.

“Fuck! Gage, you camping piece of shit!” Matt shouts.

“Dude, you walked right into my line of sight,” Gage counters, voice much quieter and controlled.

“This fucking lag is killing me!”

If they’re already playing video games, does that mean Matt forgot about me? It’s okay, I tell myself, forcing my feet to move forward. Maybe he’s killing time until I get home. Maybe the party stuff is hidden somewhere.

I round the corner into the living room and freeze.

Matt’s sprawled in his usual spot on the couch, controller gripped in white-knuckled hands, completely absorbed in whatever war zone is playing out on the seventy-inch TV that was mine before I moved in.

Hudson, Cole, and Gage are scattered around the room in various gaming positions.

“Hey, Lily.” Gage glances up first, offering a small wave.

“Oh, hey.” Cole pauses his button mashing. “How was work?”

“Lil! Come get in on this action,” Hudson cajoles, trying to get me to join even though I very much cannot play. “Birthday girl gets first kill!”

“Hell no, she’ll slow us down.” That’s all Matt does to acknowledge my presence.

His character is apparently in the middle of some crucial mission that requires his complete and total attention.

I stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for something.

Anything. A “happy birthday,” a surprise, or hell, even basic hello.

And yet, nothing. His friends exchange glances, their eyes flicking between Matt and me.

Somehow, they always seem to understand me more than my own boyfriend.

How pathetic is that? Tears prick the edges of my eyes, and I blink rapidly to clear them.

Dammit. I will not cry in front of these guys.

Frankly, I’m a little tired of crying over Matt.

Gage clears his throat loudly. “Uh, Matt, dude . . .”

“Shut up, I’m in the zone.” Matt leans forward, tongue poking out in concentration. “Almost got this fucking checkpoint.”

Cole sets down his controller. “Actually, I think I’m going to head out.”

“Yeah, me too.” Hudson’s already standing. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

Gage follows their lead. “Same here. See you later, man.”

They file past me with apologetic looks. Cole ruffles my hair. I glare at him, but Gage smooths it down and tells me happy birthday before following his friend out of the house. Hudson squeezes my shoulder, casting one last look at his friend with a shake of his head.

“What an idiot,” he murmurs low enough I’m not sure if I was meant to hear it.

The front door clicks shut behind them, leaving me alone with my boyfriend who still hasn’t said hello. His character dies, and he throws the controller on the ground, shooting to his feet and spinning around.

“What the hell, Lily?” Matt’s face twists in annoyance. “They were having a good time, and you just waltzed in here with that fucking look on your face and killed the whole vibe.”

Oh yay. Another outburst with more reasons why I’m the world’s shittiest girlfriend. I cross my arms. “What look?”

“That pissy, judgmental look you always get when I’m hanging out with my friends. They could feel the bitch energy radiating off you.”

Frustration has been simmering in my gut for months. It’s quickly starting to boil now though, anger sharp and hot. It’s all I can do to keep from screaming at him. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“Wednesday?” He’s already turning back to the TV. “Why?” He snatches up his controller and plops down.

Wednesday. Like it’s any other day, like I haven’t been dropping hints for weeks. Maybe it’s selfish, but I want him to celebrate me, to show me that he cares. I keep searching for signs to stay, and I haven’t been able to find any. “It’s my birthday.”

His fingers hesitate on the controller. For a second, I think maybe he’ll apologize, maybe he’ll turn around and make this right. Instead, he pauses the game and sighs like I’m the biggest inconvenience in the world.

“Seriously? You’re going to make a huge deal about this? Why are you acting so crazy?”

The words hit harder than any physical slap ever could. Crazy. For wanting to be remembered. For hoping my own boyfriend might give a damn about the day I was born. For wondering if there’s any reason for me to stay with him.

“Acting crazy? Matt, we’ve been together two years and you can’t remember my birthday?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately with work and—”

“Bullshit.” The word explodes out of me. “You remember every single playoff game, every release date for your precious video games, every time your truck payment is due. But you can’t remember one day that’s important to me?”

Last year I gave him a pass. This year though, he should remember. Especially after I shared that it mattered.

He stands up, towering over me the way he does when he wants to end arguments quickly.

“Why do you always do this? Why do you always make everything about you? I work my ass off all day, and I just want to relax with my friends, but you can’t handle that, can you?

You never care about my feelings or what I need. ”