Chapter 18
I was standing in the bathroom, ready to go wherever Kian had booked us to eat dinner, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the room just yet. Today had already been amazing. More than I could have imagined. It had started with birthday sex, and then at work, Eric and Alanna had stuck a candle into a cake pop and sang me “Happy Birthday.”
Once work had ended, Kian had pissed me off while simultaneously making me so happy with the two appointments he had booked for me. Now he was taking Myles and me to dinner. I was annoyed at him for ignoring my rule of not spending money on me, but at the same time, I was enjoying every minute of it.
Since homelessness had taken over my life, my birthday had never really been anything more than just having completed another year. Last year, I spent the entire day at work. The year before, I had been sent on a wild goose chase trying to find Myles, who had been high and lost his phone.
Today was already feeling like much more than I was used to and a lot more than I needed to make the day special. I took a deep breath and then grinned when I heard the sound of Myles laughing from the other room. Could this be mine? I wondered. This life with a sober brother, a warm bed, and a hot man who got pedicures with me.
I blinked at my reflection. I had spent more than my usual five minutes on my makeup and had even applied a sticky lip gloss that Alanna had given me. My jumbled thoughts drifted to Kari from the salon. When she had asked me if Kian was my boyfriend, my heart had flip-flopped in my chest. I didn’t know what he was. He hadn’t yet asked me to be his girlfriend. He had not put any labels on us.
All I knew was that I didn’t want to remember what it felt like not to wake up next to him. I wanted to keep the buzz that went through my body when he tugged on my curls and told me to have a good day. I needed more time to keep pulling smiles out of him. Was that more ? Was more laughter and safety and licorice straws and trembling orgasms at two a.m.? I ran my hands down the material of my pants, took another deep breath, and left the room.
“I’m ready,” I announced.
“You look amazing, J.” Myles stood up, grinning.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Kian agreed, holding my coat open for me.
“Thank you.” I let him pull it on me and zip it. Then he placed a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. I looked up to find Myles watching us with a small smile on his face. I cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say “What?” He just shrugged back at me and went to open the door.
“Are you crazy?” I stared at the steakhouse that Kian had driven us to and was now standing in front of. I had never heard of it, of course, but I could tell it was way beyond all of our pay grades with its shiny gray exterior, its dark frosted windows, and the gold letters spelling out the name of the restaurant.
“Just go inside, Jessamine,” Kian encouraged me. “You only turn twenty-six once.”
“Kian, you can’t afford this place. I don’t care how many fights you’ve won. This is fancy,” I all but hissed at him as I stepped out of the way to make room for a couple that had left the restaurant and were walking down the few steps to get to the sidewalk. She was wearing a fur coat and was holding a shiny black bag with two interlocked Cs on the front of it. In comparison, I was grossly underdressed in my hand-me-down coat and scuffed boots. Kian came to stand in front of me and took my face in his cold hands. He tilted my chin up to look at him.
“Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly. I could all but hear Myles take a deep breath behind me. He had heard me say so many times how I only trusted him because too many people had let us down, and therefore, our trust was not to be given out lightly. The question was a loaded one, and it took me off guard. I didn’t answer. Kian’s stern face softened as he smiled and gently brought his mouth to mine. He murmured the question again against my lips.
“Do you trust me?”
This time, I barely nodded my answer, and he accepted it as a full yes.
“I got this. You don’t have to worry. I know this isn’t your usual vibe, and if you hate it, we’ll leave. We’ll go get bagels instead if you want to. But at least give it a chance. Can you do that?”
I gave in and nodded again. Kian took my hand, looked over at Myles, and then walked us inside. Just as I expected, the ambiance was higher class than any place I had ever been to in all my life. The floor was marble, the lights were low, and instrumental music played gently throughout the room. The entryway smelled of expensive perfume, and the host greeted us from an all-velvet station with a pile of electronic menus on it.
“I have a reservation under Bardot,” I heard Kian tell thema?tre d'. I faltered at the use of my last name, wondering why he hadn’t used his, but I was quickly distracted when the man greeted us warmly and then asked us to follow him to the back of the restaurant. As we grew closer, I recognized the people sitting at the table to my left. I looked over at Kian, who was grinning at me.
“You…” I looked back at the table. Eric was smiling at me from where he sat next to his partner, David. Alanna was sitting to the right of Eric. Joseph and Martin, who worked the opposite shift of me, were directly across from them.
“Happy birthday!” Eric whispered loudly. I laughed and went over to hug him. I could tell that all of my friends were feeling a little bit uncomfortable. People like us didn’t frequent places like this. Kian pulled out a chair for me, and I quickly sat. After saying hello to all of my friends, I turned back to him.
“You arranged all of this for me?” I asked. It was a stupid question, but I needed to ask it anyway.
Kian nodded, running a calming touch down my arm, and then took my hand in his.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered. I held onto his hand for a second longer than necessary, and he squeezed mine in his. I didn’t have to say anything. I knew that he knew.
This place was so fancy, the menu didn’t have prices. Myles didn’t seem too worried about it and immediately ordered mussels as his appetizer and a Delmonico steak for his entree. He seemed perfectly comfortable, while I couldn’t figure out why I had so many forks next to my plate. I ended up asking Kian to order for me because I had no experience to reference to even know what I would want to eat.
“You good?” Kian whispered in my ear. I answered around a mouthful of duck,
“I’ve never had something so expensive in my mouth before.”
Kian let out a genuine laugh and reached over to take a bite of ravioli off my plate.
“Thank you for all of this.” I was growing warm from the delicious meal, the wine, and the emotion surrounding the fact that all of these people had come out tonight simply because it was my birthday.
Kian looked at me, emotion softening his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he ran a finger down the outside of my hand and then linked his pinky over mine. It was a barely visible movement on his part, and yet it meant a lot to me, just like most of the things he did. He may be a man of few words, but him holding my pinky in this fancy restaurant surrounded by my friends for a gathering he had arranged for me made me feel like I was his.
That we were more .
Dessert was an eclair birthday cake with sparklers in it as candles. Everyone ooohed and aaahed when the waiter brought it out. They all sang “Happy Birthday” to me, and then they each took out gifts and put them on the table in front of me.
“You guys. No!” I tried to push them back, but Eric stopped me by saying, “Everyone deserves birthday presents, Jessa. Just open them and enjoy yourself.”
I acquiesced and opened the gift bag. He and David had gotten me a pair of Uggs.
“I can’t accept this,” I told him.
“Shush.” Eric put his finger against my mouth to quiet me, which made everyone laugh. “Put them on. Let’s see how they fit.”
So in the middle of this fancy restaurant, I took off my old, laced-up boots and slipped my feet into the chestnut-colored platform boots. The inside was so soft against my toes, and I ran my hand over the Sherpa corduroy material that made up the outside of the boot.
“I love them so much,” I admitted. I got up to hug Eric again and then David, who whispered a “Happy birthday, darling” in my ear.
I moved on to Alanna’s gift, which was a shampoo and conditioner set for curly hair. When I leaned over to hug her, she whispered how hot Kian was and how lucky I had been to find him. When I sat back down, I saw a smug look on Kian’s face, and I presumed he had heard her.
Joseph had given me a Visa gift card because he was a self-proclaimed terrible gift giver, so he wanted me to choose, and Martin had given me a crossbody bag from a popular brand that I recognized. He said it was because I didn’t lug my backpack around with me anymore, and I obviously needed a place for the things I brought with me to work.
I tried to protest that I didn’t need anything fancy, but Martin interrupted me with a good-natured, “It was literally only thirty-eight dollars, Patricia. Pipe down.”
His use of the name Patricia had everyone laughing.
Myles gave me a handwritten card that I told him I would have to open later when I was alone because I was certain it would make me cry.
Lastly was Kian’s gift. He handed me a small black box held closed with a black ribbon. I took it, pulled the ribbon open, and removed the cover. Nestled on black velvet was a gold necklace. It had a thin, dainty chain, and on it hung three small charms. The middle one was a gold handmade circle that had a pressed-in impression on it that looked like a compass. To the left of it was a tiny purple amethyst stone, and to the right of it was a cloudy white moonstone charm.
“It’s beautiful.” I breathed as I opened the card. Inside, he had scratched out in what I could imagine was a typical hurried musician's handwriting, “You make me feel like I have found true north. Happy birthday, Jessamine Bardot.” Oh, I needed to unpack that note when I wasn’t feeling so befuddled from the wine and the entire night in general.
Kian had always been attentive, and lately, he had grown more open with me, but he had never said anything that felt like this level of romance before. The beautiful emotion of happiness that I was feeling crawled up my throat in the form of a sob, and I had to swallow to stop myself from suddenly bawling in this fancy restaurant. I would have plenty of time for tears when I was alone and could sort through every amazing moment that this night had offered.
“Thank you, music man,” I whispered as I handed Kian the necklace. Of course he was silent as he reached behind me to clasp it in place. It fell right below my collarbone, and I felt it nestled there on my neck, the metal cold against my heated skin. I looked around at the table full of delicious food, my friends, this man, and my sober brother, and in that moment, I could not have wished for anything more in the world.
After saying goodbye and multiple thank yous to my friends, we dropped Myles off at an NA meeting and went back to my room, which recently, I had begun to think of as home . Kian was carrying the balloons, the remaining cake, our leftovers that the restaurant had packed up for us, and a bag containing all of my gifts, so I held the door open for him and then watched as he put the food into the refrigerator and placed the balloons on the counter. I let the door shut behind me, and I stood with my back pressed against it, my fingers fiddling with the necklace Kian had given me. He was watching me with a quizzical look in his eyes, his face giving away nothing, yet the area around his mouth was softer than usual as if he was more relaxed.
“Did you have a good birthday?” he asked me, shucking his coat and letting it drop onto one of the chairs. He toed off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt as he walked closer to me.
“I did. Thanks to you.” I watched him flick open his belt and begin to thread it through his belt loops with one hand.
“And Myles,” Kian corrected me. “He found the restaurant and called all of your friends.”
“Did he now?” I was surprised but pleasantly so.
“He did,” Kian confirmed. He had now rid himself of his pants and was standing in front of me in just his boxers. He reached out and ran a calloused finger over the necklace, pressing it into my skin until the metal warmed up from my body heat.
“What does true north mean, music man?” I asked softly. Kian fidgeted for a moment, then reached up to tug the zipper of my coat down before he finally said, “I want you to be mine for real.”
I stilled, only moving to allow Kian to peel the coat off of me. He let it drop where we stood. I lifted my arms up as he pulled my shirt off over my head. He had to pause to untangle it from my mess of hair before moving onto my pants and shoving them down my legs in one quick motion. I stepped out of them robotically, and Kian kicked them to one side. My underwear was next, followed by his boxers. I felt, rather than saw, him put a condom on. Before I could even process what was happening, I was up in the air, my back against the cold door, his arms holding me up, and his cock was nudging against me until he had fully seated himself inside of me. I had not been prepared, and the invasion burned a little due to his sheer size and my lack of natural lubricant.
“Ouch.” I let out an involuntary groan. He stopped and looked at me.
“I wasn’t ready,” I told him.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered me gently until I was standing again, and then he was on his knees in front of me. He had one hand up against my stomach, keeping me pressed against the door, and the other was between my legs, spreading me for his tongue, which was immediately on me. It didn’t take long for me to be slick and grinding myself against his mouth, which was sucking, licking, and biting me full force toward a knee-trembling orgasm.
Once I was fully dripping, he hauled me back up in his arms and slid his way back in, still standing in the hallway; this time, his back was against the door. He lifted and lowered me as he would his bell bar at the gym, working me up and down his length, breathing heavily and barely looking at me. I squeezed my knees shut so he couldn’t move me anymore, and I tapped his chest.
“Hey.”
He finally looked at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked gently. I could still feel him pulsing inside of me.
“Fucking you,” he grumbled.
I cocked my head and stared at him as if to say, “Why here? Why like this?”
He frowned, then made a grunting sound as he shifted and pulled out of me, leaving me empty once again. I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist and peered into his eyes. He huffed again, and then his posture seemed to deflate slightly.
“If I fuck you in that bed while you wear that necklace, I’m going to fall in love with you and…” He held me up with one hand and ran the other one through his hair, leaving a mess in its wake. He wouldn’t look at me again. I leaned down and kissed his chest.
“Tell me why that’s bad, music man.”
I heard him sigh, and then he said, “I’m a mess. And there is a lot I still need to tell you. But at this point, I’m hoping you’ll want me to be your mess. I m-mean I want to be your mess if you’ll have me.”
I could feel his heart beating quickly, and I heard him stutter over his words. I wasn’t sure if it was from the effort of talking so much or if it was from him baring his soul to me.
“My mess, as in boyfriend and girlfriend?” I asked.
He shrugged.“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“Fuck me in our bed, Kian,” I responded, and it was all he needed to hear. He did. He wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t sweet. He was messy and frantic and desirous and intense, and he was all mine.