2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter twelve

•★ Tex ★•

Ellie appears at my side while I sit at the breakfast bar, enjoying a cup of coffee and pretending this is just a day like any other day. "Close your eyes, Tex."

I look straight ahead, brows pinched. "No, I don't wanna fall victim to whatever weird thing you came up with.

She turns the stool I'm sitting on so I'm facing her. "Pretty, pretty pleaseee?"

Ah fuck.

She brought out the big guns. Her entire face seems incredibly sad and her bottom lip sticks out. I know it's trembling purposely and yet ... "All right, all right." I cross my arms in defeat and press my lids shut. "You don't fight fair. My defenses are not made for a pout like that."

"Don't peek. I'll be back in a jiffy." With utmost difficulty, I manage to obey until she says, "You can look."

When I carefully open my eyes, half expecting some sorta trap, I'm met with the ugliest cake I've even seen. It's crooked, finger-size pieces are missing, and the vanilla frosting is half-melted. A bunch of tiny candles, presumably twenty-four, are unevenly spread out. A few are even stuck into the sides. The piped words 'Happy Birthday' are runny and barely readable.

All and all, it's a monstrosity and yet, it brings a damn tear to my eye. It's been nearly a decade since I had a proper birthday, since anyone made such an effort. Mom used to bake us a cake as well. A better-looking one, but that's not the point.

I clear my throat. "You made this for me?"

"Of course." She smiles a huge one, a smudge of frosting on her chin. "Though, eating cake is easier than baking one. I promise it still tastes good."

If I were to stick my tongue in her mouth right now, I would get a taste of vanilla. I'd bet all my money on that. No way she was able to keep herself from having a taste. I mean, the proof is in the pudding, or cake, in this case.

I smile awkwardly. "Thank you, Birdie. It looks ... delicious."

She nudges me with her elbow. "Go on, blow out the candles and make a wish."

What else could I need besides her?

I give her outfit a quick glance. Homely pants and a sloppy sweatshirt. They don't do her any favors, so they might as well come off.

The candles die when I attack them with a deep as fuck breath. "I wish—"

Her hand slaps over my mouth. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true."

When she takes her hand back, I grin widely and say, "I wish for a striptease."

Smugness touches her features. "Didn't I just say it won't come true if you say it out loud?"

"I was thinking about that other thing people say ... be careful what you wish for or you might actually get it."

"We'll determine who's right some other time. Tonight, perhaps." The look she gives me is guarantee enough for my dick to twitch with excitement. "First, I'd like to give you a real present."

Wasn't the cake enough? "Really, you shouldn't ha—"

She hands me the small package she had apparently stuffed behind the waistband of her jeans. "Don't be to hard on me. You're hard to shop for."

I tear the gift-wrapping open and stare at the item in my hands. "You bought me ugly socks."

She chuckles like she expected my reaction. "They're Happy Socks. I thought you could use some color in your wardrobe, but I know you prefer to present yourself in darks, so you can wear these without anyone else seeing them."