Same Time Next Year

by Tessa Bailey

“Because you’re the only one I get hungry for. And you know it.”

I’m not sure what comes over me, but I physically cannot do anything but kiss him.

“Fuck it,” he growls, spinning me around, his mouth swooping down on mine.

“Happy birthday,” I stammer against his lips when he draws back, my pulse going haywire over the look in his eyes. It’s . . . affection. The deep kind that I’ve never experienced. “It’s more than happy.” He picks me up and carries me toward the house, locked tightly against his chest. “It’s my best birthday yet.”

But along the way, Britta, the dream started to include you.

My rock is finally going to wear my rock.