Page 158 of We Shouldn't Be Together
I shake off the ugliness and force a grin. “Nothing. Just happy to have you all to myself.”
“That makes two of us.”
His smile makes my heart swell, but I can’t help hearing the tick of our countdown clock.
29
Yesterday,somethinghappenedtoTabby at the pizzeria. I guess her friends showing up really put a damper on things. She was still cute and bubbly when we talked and held hands, but I could tell something was eating at her.
I hope she knows I’ve forgiven the past. She hasn’t attacked Jamie, so we’re good. Although, it sounds like Jamie went off on Freddy. I might have to chat to her about backing off when it comes to Tabby and her brothers.
Man, I can’t imagine this version of Tabitha betraying me. My gut would be screaming at me to investigate her further if I had any doubts. But I don’t. And that’s why—today, on my birthday—all my friends will know how I feel about Tabitha Jones.
She’s too special to hide in an alcove or wait around on an empty soccer field. I want her by my side, and my friends are about to deal with it.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the usual birthday shenanigans that’ll happen today. Inevitably, my thoughts fall on Milo. I’m inspired by how Freddy supported Tabitha and brought her down to my game. How he stuck around until he felt she was safe with me.
That’s how brothers should be. Brothers should be supportive.
With buzzing energy, I slip out of bed and pace out of my bedroom. Passing the bathroom, I close in on Milo’s bedroom door. Without second guessing it, I turn the handle and let myself in.
Draped in a heavy blanket with his mop of hair swept across his face, and his ginger furball tucked into a ball at his feet, Milo lies on his stomach and makes sleeping sounds.
I edge across the plush carpet of his compulsively neat room and dive onto his bed, cuddling the blanketed shape of him.
Milo grunts awake, recoiling in a foetal position. His cat meows and escapes the bed as my weight sinks into the mattress.
“Happy birthday, baby bro!” I cheer, spooning him as he blinks his eyes open.
“Huh? Wha-wha… What?”
“Happy birthday,” I repeat. “It’s our birthday.”
He struggles against me, but I continue to hold him in place. “Why are you in here?”
“Good lord, Milo. Is it so hard for you to deal with me being nice?”
He nudges his elbow into me and finds the space to sit up. His soft brown hair stands on end and he squints at his surroundings. “Hand me my glasses, would ya?”
I turn to the nightstand and retrieve his clear-framed glasses.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, putting them on and then smoothing down his hair. “So, what were you saying?”
Okay, he’s really making it hard to keep my temper in check. “Happy—“
“No, I get that,” he says, cutting me off. “Why are you in here?”
I don’t know what he’s getting at. “To see you.”
His nose crinkles and he fiddles with his glasses as if they’ll help him hear me better.
“Milo?” It comes out of me softly as realization hits that he hasn’t said happy birthday back. He just stares at me like I have an ulterior motive.
Am I really that bad of a brother that he can’t see I’m trying to be nice?
Milo sits back against the pillows and sighs. “Sorry. I don’t think I was ready to wake up, and you’ve kinda thrown me.”
I grin, hoping he perks up. “Wasn’t it a good surprise?”
