I'VE ALWAYS HATED birthdays.

Well, not always.

My loathing of them started on my seventh birthday. My mom planned this massive party at the zoo, and I was so excited. It was all I could look forward to for a month because my Dad had never missed a birthday. It was the one day I could always count on for him to be there. It was a day he would never miss.

But on the morning we were getting ready to leave, my mom told me he couldn't make it. She said he had just won his second championship and was pulled to do interviews that he couldn't get out of. I was only seven, so contractual obligations didn't make sense to me. All I could focus on was the shattering of my heart at that moment, and even now, as Emery and I walk into the foyer, I still remember the seven-year-old boy sitting on this exact hardwood floor, crying his eyes out.

I haven't cried since.

So, I went to the zoo and had a miserable time. It was the worst birthday party I ever had, and every year that passed, I opted out of a party. Celebrating alone was better than being in limbo about whether or not my dad would make it. I didn't want to keep looking at the time as I did that day. I didn't want to hold onto hope only to be let down continuously.

"You okay?" Emery glances up at me, and I snap out of my thoughts. My family hasn't heard us come in through the front door, but I know they're here from the sound of laughter and chatter flowing from the next room.

I nod and help her out of her coat, hanging it up in the closet beside us, and I admire how beautiful she looks in a simple lavender knee-length dress. It hugs her endless curves, and the planes of her face are on full display with her long, chestnut curls clipped back.

Somehow, Emery can force me to shove the anger and resentment I've held onto for so long into a separate compartment, and when she smiles, a different feeling floods the newly vacated space. Suddenly, a grin tugs on my own mouth.

"Your parent's house is insane," she says, her eyes focusing on the chandelier above us.

I've never felt embarrassed about my family's wealth, but right now... The woman beside me grew up with practically nothing, and the luxury around her probably seems ridiculous. She ate peanut butter sandwiches for a straight week only three months ago, and now she's standing on marble floors in a grand entry.

"I know it's...a lot," I say, clearing my throat. "My Dad doesn't exactly hide his wealth. My Mom is a lot better at being frugal and conscious about money, but you should be warned that there's a movie theater downstairs and a bunch of other things they probably don't need."

Emery sighs. "I know what you're doing, and you need to stop. I'm not judging how you or your family live. You're acting like I haven't seen your house before."

"But you've never been inside," I say.

"So? This house is gorgeous; if your family can afford it, that's awesome. I'm really happy for them."

Before I can reply, Izzy rounds the entryway, her entire face lighting up when she sees us. "They are here!" She yells. "I told you!" With two long strides, she wraps me in her arms. "Hi, my favorite brother."

Connor enters at the end of her sentence and flicks Izzy on the ear. "There's no way he's your favorite."

"He is," she reiterates. "He took your place after you became a dick. If you want to become the sweet, innocent boy I used to know, then maybe we can talk."

"In what world am I more of a dick than Everett?" He places a hand on Izzy's forehead. "Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something?"

She swats his hand away. "Shut up. We have a guest." Then she launches herself at Emery, hugging her tightly. "We're so glad you could make it!"

"Hope Everett's stick hasn't been shoved too far up his ass since you've been staying with him," Connor adds.

I roll my eyes as I hang my peacoat up beside Emery's in the closet. This is why I've always been reluctant for her to meet them. My family can be very overwhelming, and my siblings will stop at nothing to embarrass the hell out of me.

"It's still up there," Emery replies, laughing softly.

Connor sends her a nod of approval. "I like her. Good choice, Everett."

I've never seen Emery's cheeks turn so red. "Oh, we're not..."

Leaning over to punch Connor on the shoulder, he winces, dodging my next hit. "Leave us alone," I say. As much as I should tell him we aren't dating, I can't. Not when I want it so desperately. I'm surprised Emery doesn't correct him, either. Instead, she remains silent when I place my hand on the small of her back. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

He jerks his head toward the kitchen. "Cooking dinner."

"It's an actual groping fest between them in there." Izzy wrinkles her nose up. "I had to leave. It became too much."

I scoff. "As if you don't do the same with Mason."

"Give it time," Izzy snaps, looking pointedly at my hand on Emery's back. "You'll be sucking face in front of us eventually."

Connor makes pretend barf noises. "The minute I see Everett do anything other than scowl, it'll be a miracle."

I'm leading Emery into the kitchen before I allow Connor to say anything else. Different herbs and spices carry down the hall, and when we reach the kitchen, Izzy wasn't lying. My dad has his arms wrapped around my mom's waist, helping her chop a pepper, and my mind immediately strays to when Emery and I were doing the same thing a few days ago.

My mom's eyes lift to mine. "Everett!" She exclaims, the knife clattering on the cutting board. She escapes my father's grasp and races over to hug me. "Happy birthday, honey! How does it feel to be twenty-three?"

"No different than twenty-two."

She holds me at arm's length, reaching up to pinch my cheek. "You're getting more handsome with each passing year. Right, Emery?"

"Mom," I hiss.

"He is," Emery agrees, doing a once-over of me. She lingers on my pants a little too long for my liking, and in seconds, the fabric of my jeans is straining.

This woman...

"Everett. It's good to see you." My Dad pulls me in for a hug now, and it's an effort to hug him back. "We're making your favorite. Steak kabobs with grilled corn and salad."

Still reeling from the look Emery has in her eye, I shake it off when she asks to help my mom with the meal. Together, they arrange the kabobs, and I watch the entire thing in silence beside my father, that feeling I'm refusing to acknowledge pounding against that vacancy in my heart at full force.

Music is playing softly through the speakers, and Izzy and Connor laugh as they watch videos on their phones at the dining room table. Everything feels a little too good to be true. I never thought I'd be as happy as I was when I was seven and planning my party at the zoo, but when Emery throws her head back with laughter at something my mom says and does a little dance, she might as well be a fucking zookeeper because it feels like she brought the damn zoo right here in my parent's kitchen and placed it at my feet.

My dad puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. This time, I don't shrug him off. "Whatever you're feeling right now, hold onto it, Everett. Never let it go."

I haven't even noticed that all eyes have turned toward me. I've been so locked in on Emery that the silence that has grown over the room aside from the music hasn't registered. "Why do you assume I'm feeling something?" I ask bitterly.

My father chuckles as he watches both Izzy and my mom dab their tears with a tissue. "Because you're smiling, Everett."

Author's Note:

WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK?

Will we be getting a surprise guest at this birthday dinner? An UNCLE perhaps?

If you want an update on Monday, 230 votes, 300 comments!

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