Adelaide
One Year Earlier…
My dress was poofy and fantastic. When I twirled, it flared out, making me look like a ballerina in a music box. As a newly minted twenty-three-year-old, it might have been a little ridiculous, but it was my birthday. If I couldn’t wear a pink, poofy dress on my birthday, what was the point of getting older?
I leaned in closer to my reflection, grazing my nostril with my fingertip. Damn, I would’ve looked good with a tiny diamond stud there. I’d been wanting one for ages, but too many voices in my life had talked me out of it.
“You’re kidding me.”
I whirled away from the mirror. There was my man, impeccably dressed in cigarette trousers and a gray button-down with Prada loafers. He made my mouth go dry. Obviously, it wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way he leaned against the doorframe. The complete control he had over his tightly muscled frame. Twelve years older than me, Jason carried himself with a sexy, easy confidence. Six months into our relationship, I still thought he was as hot as the day he hit on me in a coffee shop.
Incidentally, he’d ordered a flat white while I’d indulged in a mocha.
He swept his gaze over me, but there was no hunger or heat. When I thought about it, that had faded a while ago.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked.
He tipped his chin at my dress. “You’re joking, right? That’s not what you’re wearing.”
A laugh burst out of me. “Of course this is what I’m wearing. This is vintage Betsy.” I spun around, showing him the oversized pink bow on the back. “I know froufrou clothes aren’t your thing, but surely you recognize fabulous when you see it.”
I shimmied my shoulders and peered back at him. My handsome, hot boyfriend was completely unmoved by the big pink bow and my teasing. Turning back to face him, I poked my bottom lip out, hoping a little playful pouting would get him on board.
No dice.
Jason sniffed, straightening to fold his arms over his gym-fit chest. “You’re really going out like that? My friends and colleagues will be there, Adelaide. This isn’t the time to do your whole free-spirited-trust-fund-baby schtick. Just…be my gorgeous girl.”
I pinched the tulle with my fingers. “Am I not your gorgeous girl now?”
“I’m not saying that. But this”—he flicked his hand at me—“distracts from the rest of you.”
“I don’t like what you’re saying to me right now.” Or how he was making me feel. This was no way to treat a birthday girl.
Jason immediately softened his stance, approaching me with his hands out. He held my waist and pulled me into him. I braced my hands on his shoulders, biting back the urge to tell him I didn’t like the vibe of his Zara button-down all the Wall Street bros wore. Because why would I tell my boyfriend something so cruel? He had his style. I had mine. I didn’t always dress like a cupcake, but sometimes I wanted to drown in a mountain of tulle dammit.
“Addie,” he cooed. “I’m sorry. You know I think you’re unbelievably beautiful, don’t you? I shouldn’t have said anything. Keep the dress.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking it off, Jason.”
He chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Hopefully because you know me better than that.”
“I do.” He booped my nose. I normally thought it was adorable when he did that, but right now, it felt loaded with condescension. “And my favorite part of you, besides your unbelievable ass and tits that make me weep, is your smile. I never want to be the cause of you losing that smile. Keep the dress, baby, and give me a smile.”
I wasn’t exactly feeling smile-y, but this evening needed to be turned around or it was doomed. So, I sucked in a deep breath, slid my hands to his shoulders, and put my all into my smile.
Jason leaned in and kissed the curve of my neck. My smile turned a little more genuine. He always kissed my neck before we went out so he didn’t ruin my lipstick. It was one of those considerate gestures that had made me fall for him in the beginning.
“Okay, my gorgeous birthday girl. Are you ready to go?”
I circled my arms around his neck, feeling a little more warm and fuzzy toward him than I had a few minutes ago. “I’m ready, my handsome man. Let’s go paint the town red.”
He raised a brow. “Or pink, as the case may be.”
I laughed. “Yes. Let’s paint the goddamn town pink!”
His nose twitched. “Addie…come on.”