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“Are you okay?” he asked me.

“Um, yeah,” I stammered out. “Just … shocked. You were in on this?”

“Like I’d really let you spend your eighteenth birthday at Chili’s?” my dad said incredulously. “But no, your friends pla

I turned to look at Sha

“Nope,” Sha

Just then, Jake emerged and tossed something at me. Something blue and silky and crumpled into a ball. I caught it against my chest and unfolded it in front of me. It was a basketball jersey with my number and the words BIRTHDAY GIRL printed on the back.

“Happy birthday,” he said, standing in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He’d gotten his hair cut, and he wore this light blue Lacoste polo that made him look like a model. So not fair, having an ex who looked like that. And I hadn’t even had a chance to get changed out of my distressed jeans and green-and-white-striped T-shirt.

“Um, wow. I—”

I didn’t know what else to do or say. I was so overwhelmed, there were no words.

“Did we miss it?”

“Mom?” I blurted.

I whirled around to find my semi-tan mother, and a super-ta

“Oh! We missed it!” she pouted.

“You’re here!” I shouted.

I threw myself into her arms and she kissed the top of my head to a round of teasing “awww”s. I felt like a complete dork, hugging my mommy like I hadn’t seen her in years, but I couldn’t help it. She wasn’t supposed to be back for three more days. And besides, I had all this pent up Jake-related emotion inside of me and I had to hug it out somewhere.

“Happy birthday,” she said, cupping my face as she pulled away.

“Told you something fabulous could still happen,” Qui

She sauntered over to the drinks table and joined Hammond and some of her friends. I couldn’t believe she’d actually managed to keep this a secret from me. I couldn’t believe any of them had.

My mother and Gray went over to say hi to my dad and Jake’s parents, and everyone else started to mill around. A bunch of people came up to tell me just how hilarious my face was when they’d whipped the pillowcase free, and the music started up again full-blast. The faces whirled by so quickly, accompanied by happy birthdays and hugs and kisses, but through it all I kept searching the crowd for Jake. Where had he gone? Was he upset I hadn’t said anything? Was he hiding out in his room or something?

But then, as I was hugging Marshall, I caught a glimpse of Jake over his shoulder. He was directing one of the waiters on where to set up the cake, like a true party pla

“Thank you,” I mouthed to him.

He smiled. If possible, he looked hotter in that moment than he ever had before. “Anytime.”

jake

When people began to leave, I started to get tense. I tried to keep an eye on Ally, but there was so much going on. The cake, the pictures, the dancing, the good-byes. I just wanted her to stay. If she left with her parents or one of her friends … I didn’t know what I was going to do. Honestly. I didn’t know.

But then I saw her dad hug her good-bye. And a while later her mom and Dr. Nathanson left with Qui





Please just let me get her alone. Please, God, just let me get her alone.

Finally, I heard her say good-bye to her friends. She walked over to me slowly, her hands behind her back, crossing one foot over the other. It was a flirt walk. This was promising.

“Hey,” she said.

She must have been able to hear my heart pounding. It was obvious to the world. “Hey.”

She smiled and hugged herself, looking around at the tent, the decorations, the gift table. “And you thought my mom threw a serious party.”

I cracked a grin. “I’ll admit it. I had some help.”

“I figured,” she said. “But thank you. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Really?” I said, stepping closer to her. “Can you really not believe I’d do this for you?”

My voice sounded throaty and my chest was warm with hope. Because I meant it. I’d do anything for her. She just had to believe it. She gazed up at me, searching my eyes, and I leaned in closer. My lips actually tingled. For a second, her eyelids went heavy, and I swore she was going to let me kiss her. Finally, finally, finally. But then, suddenly, she pulled away. I felt like I was going to die. Seriously. Right then and there.

She turned around and walked slowly away.

“Where’re you going?” I said.

“Just getting something.” She popped open the door of the shed that held all the sports equipment and came back with a basketball. “How about a little one-on-one? It could be your present to me.”

I smirked. “Oh, so the party and the jersey weren’t enough?”

She looked me in the eye and very, very sexily shook her head, her hair falling forward in front of her face. I swallowed hard.

“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together. “I’m in.”

We decided to play to eleven. Ally took the ball out first, being the birthday girl and all. As I crouched in front of her, I realized that my goal for this game was just to not get humiliated. There was no way I could beat her. This had been proven before. And besides, I didn’t want to beat her. It was her birthday. And yeah, I was still hoping to get that kiss. Losing probably wouldn’t put her in a kissing mood.

“Ready?” she said, dribbling between us.

“Ready.”

Instead of cutting right or left, she came right at me. I backed up fast, almost tripping myself, but she still slammed her shoulder into mine. I felt myself blush as her body grazed past me. She took the ball to the hoop and hit an easy layup, then retrieved the ball and tossed it back to me.

“One–nothing,” she said, taking the defensive position.

I just watched her, tossing the ball from hand to hand. Had she made contact like that on purpose? Was she just messing with me? I decided to test it.

I took the ball just a few steps away from the midline, stopped moving, and lined up the shot. As the ball arced through the air, Ally jumped for it, and missed. When she came down, she tripped right against me. The ball swished through the hoop.

“One–one,” I said, my breath short, even though I’d barely moved.

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes, her chest pressed against mine. “Nice shot.”

Then she took her time moving away, her hand trailing across my pecs.

Yeah. She was definitely doing that on purpose. The rest of the game was pretty even, both scoringwise and flirtingwise. She took the ball up and I grabbed her hand, holding her back as she strained against me. She still made the shot, tossing the ball underhand at the hoop. I raced forward to try for a layup and she bent down to tackle me at the waist. By the time she got to eleven, we were both giggling like idiots and flushed from contact as much as the exercise.

“Nice game,” I said with a laugh, reaching out to slap her hand.