So I spent my birthday at work, figuring out time sheets for the coming weeks. It was a freaking headache to do. This girl wanted certain days off to go to school functions, that one wanted to only work Tuesdays and Thursdays because she had church shit on the others. It went on and on until figuring out the schedule was like putting together a puzzle that never quite lined up.

By the time I arrived home, I had a headache from hell and I was sweaty from the drive since my car’s air conditioning was busted and Asa hadn’t visited in almost three months to fix it. I was irritated and tired and I just wanted to strip down to my underwear and pass out with a fan pointed at my bed.

I almost missed the motorcycle parked at the end of the parking lot.

Almost.

I ran up the stairs, cursing that while I’d had my monthly waxing session the week before, I hadn’t cleaned up the house or packed the fridge. My heart raced as I opened the door, and my jaw dropped when I saw the amount of people in the apartment… and the other shit.

There were streamers crossing the ceiling, posters on the walls, and balloons hooked to anything heavy enough to hold them from flying to the ceiling. It looked like a party store threw up.

Farrah.

I stopped in the doorway, and no one noticed me as I searched the crowd for Asa. Farrah was sitting on Echo’s lap on the couch, Michael was smiling down at some girl I’d never seen before, and a few of my co-workers were in the hallway making out. I was going to have to rework the entire schedule to make sure they weren’t on at the same time. Dammit.

I found Asa standing in the kitchen, laughing with a pretty girl with blonde hair that hung down almost to her ass. She was pretty, really pretty, but the minute she put her hand on his chest she looked like a haggard bitch from hell to me. I saw red.

I slammed the door behind me, causing most of the occupants to turn in my direction, but I only cared about one person’s attention. His head swung in my direction, and he smiled huge until he saw the scowl on my face.

If I had been a cartoon, smoke would have come out of my ears as I swung my purse at Farrah. She caught it as if she’d anticipated the move, and watched with a smirk as I stalked across the living room and into the kitchen.

“You,” I pointed to the girl with Asa. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

She laughed uncomfortably and glanced up at Asa.

Oh. No. She. Didn’t.

“Bitch, you look at me,” I sneered at her, causing her head to whip back around. “He’s not gonna help you.”

“Calliope—” Asa’s voice was a warning I didn’t heed.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Apartment,” I told her through gritted teeth. “Unless you want me to rip that pretty hair out of your head when I beat the shit out of you.”

“I—”

“You—nothing,” I cut her off, pretending to stutter. “It’s my house and...” I pointed my finger to Asa, “my man. You put your hands on him, you deal with me. Now go.”

She looked between the two of us, trying to calculate her odds—but when I took another step toward her, she scurried toward the front door, dragging the girl by Michael with her. I watched her go and then pulled my arm from Asa when he tried to pull me to him.

His face was tight in anger when I glanced up at him, and I scowled until I heard Farrah clapping from the living room.

“Bravo!” she called, giggling. “I was hoping she’d stay so we could beat her ass. I got your back, sister!” She was drunk and swaying, and I couldn’t keep a smile off my face from her antics. Fucking goofball.

The room was still quiet, watching Asa and me closely, so I raised my hands in the air and shook my hips from side to side.

“Nothing to see here, folks!” I called out with a derisive smile. “Drink up and be merry! Happy fucking Birthday to me!”

I walked back to my room with Asa less than a foot behind me. When I got there, he slammed the door behind us and I spun around in surprise.

“What? I thought that’s what we’re doing now,” he rumbled, slipping his cut off his shoulders as he stalked me across the room. “Slamming fuckin’ doors and having bitch fits when I haven’t seen you in three goddamn months.”

“She was all over you!” I sniped back as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“She wasn’t all over me. The chick came with Michael and you just fuckin’ cock-blocked him.”

I stood next to the bed, stuttering as he slipped off his boots and socks. He was even bigger than the last time I’d seen him, and apparently he’d had a few of his tattoos touched up, too, because the one on his back was even bigger and creeping up his neck. I soaked him in with my eyes, not coming out of my stupor until he was right in front of me and pulling my work polo over my head.

“What the hell?” I gasped. “We’ve got like fifteen people in the living room!”

“I don’t give a shit,” he replied, leaning down to take my mouth in a wet kiss as he unsnapped my bra. “They know what’s good for them, they’ll stay out there… even when they hear you screaming.”

He undressed me as I tried to squirm away, but I gave a halfhearted attempt at best. It had been too long since I’d felt him, and I couldn’t truthfully make myself care that we had an apartment full of people.

He tossed me on the bed and I scrambled up and off of it as he undid his belt and pants. I started for the door like I was going to leave, but didn’t make it far before he was lifting me by the waist and tossing me back—his jeans falling farther and farther down his hips as we struggled.