My eyes flash up to his. “Party?”
His mouth tugs up at one side and he forces himself to take a step back. “Time to go.”
“I still think I need to pack the shoes,” I say, staring longingly at the Miu Mius on the counter. “Justonepair.”
He grunts, the sound torn between amusement and lust. “You won’t need them.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Phoebe.” He turns and lowers his head until his lips skim mine in the ghost of a kiss. “You won’t need them. As soon as this shit is cleared up with Mac, I’m flying to meet you. And when that happens, you won’t need any of your damn clothes because we’re going to be naked for a week straight.” His words send a delicious shiver through me. “Understand?”
“Um,” I whisper, eyes wide and heart suddenly pounding. “Yep.”
His mouth twitches. “Unless that’s not what you want. If it’s not, by all means, pack the fucking shoes and wait for your damn Oscar invitation. Either way, we’re leaving now.”
His lips land on mine in a too-brief, no-nonsense kiss and then he’s gone, grabbing my bag and leaving me pressed limply against the refrigerator, with only my discarded heels to keep me company.
When I follow him to the front door a few seconds later and twine my fingers with his, the Miu Mius are still sitting on the counter in the dark, long-forgotten as thoughts of a naked week with Nate swirl through my head.
***
“Surprise!”
I squeak involuntarily and jump about a foot into the air as the elevator doors chime open, because the sound of ten people screaming at the top of their lungs is mildly terrifying, regardless of the situation. I nearly lose my footing, but Nate’s hands land on my waist to steady me before I can fall on my face.
Phoebe West: queen of the elegant entrance.
“Breathe,” he whispers against my neck, voice amused.
I try to follow his orders as we step into the penthouse and look around at the group of people beaming at me and clapping. Gemma and Chase are by the kitchen counter, where a massive platter of cupcakes rests, each bearing a candle. Lila and her new boyfriend-of-the-minute are leaning against the pool table, which has a bright red balloon tethered to each pocket. Shelby and a handsome man I don’t recognize (who I assume is her husband Paul) are by the bookshelves in the corner, which have been strung end-to-end with streamers. Chrissy and Mark (Gemma’s other married friends) are hanging by the sectional, trying to keep the adorable towheaded toddler at their feet from shoving confetti up his nose.
Every single one of them is grinning at me. And every single one of them is wearing one of those ridiculous conical party hats and blowing into a paper horn.
“Happy birthday, Phoebe!” Gemma says, grabbing me in a tight hug as soon as we step inside. “I know you said you didn’t want a party, but I couldn’t help myself. I hope you aren’t mad.”
“Mad?” I say, laughing as I embrace her. “No. This is…” I swallow so I don’t start getting teary. “This is perfect.”
“Told you so,” Gemma says to Chase smugly. “I’m always right. Just in case you forgot.”
He shakes his head. “Sunshine. Keep gloating. See what happens.”
They trade a glance so heated, it’s a wonder the room doesn’t catch fire around them.
I hear Lila’s voice only seconds before her body slams into mine in a full-on bear hug.
“Twenty-four! You old hag!” Her arms wrap around my frame, squeezing tightly.
“Technically not until tomorrow,” I point out, returning her hug.
“The way things have been going lately, you could be dead by tomorrow,” she says lightly. “We’d better celebrate now.”
I roll my eyes and push her away with a playful shove. I’ve barely turned when Shelby appears, snapping a glittery party hat around my head before I can protest.
“If I’m wearing one of these things, you damn well are too,” she says, slinging an arm around my shoulders in a half hug. “Plus, it’ll distract from that impressive shiner you’ve got.”
My nose wrinkles as I feel the elastic dig into my chin. “It’s my birthday. Doesn’t that mean I’m not required to wear the funny hat if I don’t want to?”
“Technically, your birthday isn’t till tomorrow,” Lila reminds me, grinning. “Which means birthday requests are not yet valid. Try again.”