Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Madeline
Jesse’s hand is warm in mine, our fingers laced together as we stand on Cara and Ryan’s front porch.
“Ready?” I ask, giving his hand a squeeze.
“Always,” he says, confident as usual.
He’s holding a bouquet of flowers for my sister that he picked out himself.
Just thinking about that makes me wobbly.
When I asked if he wanted to come with me tonight, he didn’t hesitate for even a second.
No questions. No uncertainty. “I’d love to meet your family,” he said.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Like it was the simplest decision in the world.
The front door swings open before I can knock, and Cara is standing there with Marigold on her hip. She doesn’t even give me time to say hello before she pulls me into her arms, holding me tight like she always does.
“Happy birthday, little sister,” she whispers against my ear. And that’s when I realize this is my birthday dinner. I’ve been so caught up in Jesse and work and the mess with my parents that it didn’t even register.
Birthdays have always been kind of a non-event in my life.
Even as a kid, they weren’t really celebrated.
My parents certainly didn’t go out of their way to make the day special.
There were never birthday parties with friends from school or presents waiting for me when I woke up in the morning.
I remember one year when the nanny made an effort, blowing up balloons and taking me out for ice cream.
But Cara always remembered. When we were little, she would slip into my room before school, tug me out of bed, and bring me to hers like it was a secret ritual just for us.
She’d give me something she made—a colorful beaded bracelet one year, a candle she’d tried to pour herself another.
It was never about the gift. It was about celebrating me.
Now that we’re grown, she keeps the tradition alive in a new way. She always cooks me dinner and bakes me a cake. After she got married, Ryan—and now Marigold—become part of our little celebrations too. They make sure I feel like I matter.
I press a gentle kiss to Marigold’s chubby cheek. She squeaks in protest and then grins, patting my face with a sticky hand. Cara chuckles and shifts her higher on her hip.
“Someone’s very excited you’re here,” she says. “She’s missed her auntie Madeline cuddles.”
“I’ve missed them too,” I say, grabbing my niece’s tiny hand and nibbling at it, making her giggle.
Ryan appears at Cara’s side. He pulls me into a bear hug, squeezing me until I’m gasping for breath. “Happy birthday,” he says with a wide grin as he lets go.
He and Cara usher Jesse and I in and I make introductions as Ryan takes our coats and then leads the way to the living room. “Thanks for making the drive out,” Cara says as we get settled. “I know it’s a long way to come for dinner.”
“Thanks for including me, “Jesse says with sincerity in his voice. “Mads has told me so much about you.”
“I’m a big fan of your brand,” he tells Jesse as we sink into the plush couch. “I wear your breathable boxers now exclusively. They’re life-changing, man.”
“Babe, you met him thirty seconds ago and you’re already talking about your boxers?” Cara jokes.
“I love to hear a positive review,” Jesse says with a grin.
A buzzer chimes from the kitchen down the hall. “Oh shoot,” Cara says, springing up from her perch on the arm of the sofa. “The timer—Ryan, can you grab that? And just give me a minute while I make Goldie a bottle.”
They both head into the kitchen, leaving Jesse and I alone in the living room. As soon as they’re out of earshot, he turns to face me.
“It’s your birthday.”
I lift one shoulder in a soft shrug. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t…not tell you,” I say gently, smiling up at him. “It just never feels like a thing I need to announce. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it didn’t even register until Cara said it. I was just so excited that you were meeting my family. That felt much bigger than my birthday.”
“We’re talking about this later,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. I nod, then weave my fingers into his and pull him off the couch.
“Let’s go see if we can help,” I say, leading him toward the kitchen.
Dinner passes in a blur of easy conversation and laughter. At some point, Cara lights candles, and Ryan dims the kitchen lights, and suddenly there’s a cake in front of me and everyone is smiling like this is the most natural thing in the world.
Marigold is warm and squirmy on my lap, fascinated by the tiny flames. I help her clap when they start singing, my cheeks aching from smiling. I lean forward and blow the candles out in one breath, the smoke curling up between us.
Jesse’s arm slides along the back of my chair, steady and sure. I settle into it without even thinking and he presses a soft kiss to my temple. My chest tightens in that quiet, overwhelming way that keeps sneaking up on me lately.
Across the table, Cara meets my eyes and smiles.
I don’t know how to explain to her what Jesse and I are yet.
I don’t even know if I have the right words for it myself.
I’ll figure that out another day. Tonight, I just want to sit here with his arm around me, cake crumbs on my plate, my family around the table, and the feeling that I’m exactly where I want to be.
It’s my birthday. And this moment might be the best birthday present I could ever wish for.
Jesse kills the engine in front of my building and walks me up the stairs to my apartment door.
It’s late after the long drive home and I can’t wait to crawl into bed.
I insert my key into the lock, and before I can even step inside, he’s right behind me, removing his jacket and closing the door behind him.
I turn, lifting a brow. “What are you doing?”
He places his palm low on my waist, steadying me, drawing me the tiniest bit closer.
“Taking you inside,” he murmurs. “What else would I be doing?”
I should protest, but I don’t. I lean into him instead, my body choosing for me. “Lottie must be sleeping,” I whisper as I lock the door behind us then turn to face him. “You don’t have to walk me to my bedroom, you know.”
He gives me a look that is entirely too confident and entirely too soft at the same time.
“Madeline,” he says softly. “I’m not leaving you on your birthday. I’m staying. It’s not up for debate.”
He pulls me quietly through the dim living room down the narrow hall, looking for my bedroom. When I nod in the direction of mine, he pushes the door open and steps inside.
“Which side do you prefer?” he asks simply gesturing to my bed.
He doesn’t even pause. He begins to undress, his belt hitting the chair followed by his shirt, which he grabs by the hem and peels over his head. My mouth actually waters when I see the V of muscles at his hips.
He stands there with his carved pecs and chiselled abs stealing every breath from my lungs. When he takes off his pants and is left in nothing but a pair of black Cove boxer briefs, I swear my legs shake.
“Jesse, my bed is tiny,” I protest weakly. “You really don’t need to stay.”
He steps closer, fingers hooking in the hem of my shirt, tugging me toward him. “I don’t care if it’s the size of a postage stamp,” he says. “I’m not leaving you tonight. It’s your birthday. Also, we should probably talk about that.”
He lifts my shirt, and my arms automatically rise over my head as he slips the fabric over my head. He skims his hands into the waistband of my pants, pulling them down over my hips before he helps me step out of them one foot at a time. The air hits my skin first, then his gaze hits harder.
He frames my face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping along my cheekbones, tilting my head so I’m looking directly at him.
“Mads. It’s your birthday. You didn’t think that might be something I’d want to know?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” I insist, trying to keep my voice light as I rub my hands over the backs of his arms.
“Not a big deal?” His voice drops. “It’s my girlfriend’s birthday.”
I shrug one shoulder, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. “I’ve never really celebrated it.”
His brows pull together. “What do you mean you’ve never celebrated it?”
I give him a tiny, embarrassed laugh. “People just…tend to forget. I don’t usually remind anyone.”
He goes very still.
“Did your parents call you today?” he asks, but his tone makes it clear that he already knows he won’t like the answer.
“No.”
“Mads.” His jaw flexes. “Did they text? Anything?”
I shake my head. “They almost never remember.” And then, because old habits die hard, I try to brush it off. “It’s honestly fine—”
“It’s not fine.” The edge in his voice is razor sharp. “You deserve a whole damn parade today.”
I laugh. “It honestly doesn’t bother me that my parents forgot.”
“Mads.” He drags a hand down his face, torn between fury at my parents and absolute disbelief at me.
“Mads, it’s not okay that your parents forgot.
But I don’t give a damn about them. I care about you.
And if I’d known today was your birthday, I would have shown up for you.
I would have taken you to dinner. I would have made the whole day all about you because that’s what you deserve. ”
“Jesse—"
He cuts me off by tilting my face up and pressing his mouth to mine in a soft, lingering kiss that makes my knees go weak.
“You have to stop saying such sweet things to me,” I whisper.
“I feel like I haven’t made things clear. I want to know everything,” he murmurs, his forehead against mine. “Whatever it is. If it’s important to you, I want to know.”
My chest goes tight. This right here feels like he’s taking a wrecking ball to the walls I’ve spent my whole life building.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know there is a lot we need to talk about—my parents, Wes, Elliot, the potential for disaster that is still lurking. But all of that can wait.
“You’re kind of wonderful, you know that?”
“Yeah?” A slow smile curves his mouth.
“Yes.”
It’s terrifying how easy he makes this feel. Every time I think I should pull back and protect my heart, he gives me one more reason to lean in.
When we’re ready for bed, he follows me to my bed, flicks off the light, and folds the blankets down on my bed. I slide in first, then he crawls in behind me. His arm curves around my waist, his nose brushes the curve of my neck. A soft kiss lands on my shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Mads,” he whispers.
I sink back into him, letting the warmth of his body and the weight of his arm settle over every place inside me that still feels fragile.
“It was one of the best,” I breathe into the dark before I drift off to sleep.