Our takeout and sci-fi marathon is too perfect.

As is Walker's attempt at teaching me how to stir fry.

And the second lesson, where I actually get it.

And our third time out surfing. And the fourth. I actually know what I'm doing. It's fun. It's thrilling. And he's there, with me, on his board, showing off in that Walker kind of way.

And the next week, fucking and cooking and eating and binging on TV at my place

And the one after, hiking and surfing and coffee drinking and fucking everywhere.

And the week after.

And the week after…

We make each other laugh and smile and moan and it's perfect.

Then Dean texts—how the hell did Dean get my number?—to get me in on a surprise party for Walker's birthday next week.

And I make up a plan to tell him.

Not because he needs to know.

Because I believe the past is the past.

Because I believe he'll stay.

Because I can finally look at myself in the mirror and see a whole person.

Not at his birthday. Not at a party.

After finals. When we celebrate. When we go out to the beach to take in a beautiful day.

That's when I'm going to tell him.

It's a few weeks away. And maybe I shouldn't wait.

But I need it to be right. I need it to be perfect.

* * *

The bell rings.

Sun streams through the sliver in the door frame. It's the middle of the afternoon. Walker is supposed to come in for his shift. That was the only way to make this plausible.

Dean and I decided a blindfold and an I'm surprising you, baby, just follow me would be too obvious.

Well, Dean complained that it would be too disappointing. That any follow me surprise should lead to dirty sex, that no matter how fucking awesome this party could be, it could never compare to fucking in some shady bar.

And… well, I agree.

A Converse clad foot plants on the mat. Walker's sneakers. And that's his leg. I think. It's hard to tell his calf from any other muscular, skinny jean clad calf.

Someone nudges me.

Someone else whispers.

My heart thuds against my chest. Did I drop too many hints? Is this way too obvious? Effort is more important than surprise. What matters is that we care enough about Walker to plan this. What—

The light flicks on.

Walker blinks hard—that light really is bright.

"Surprise." Someone yells it. Then everyone is yelling it. I'm yelling it.

The door swings shut behind him.

He looks around slowly. "Fuck, can't believe I didn't see that coming." His eyes lock with mine. "The blinds are never down in June."

I mouth do you like it?

His lips curl into a smile. His eyes light up with something dirty and devious. An I'd like you naked in my bed a hell of a lot better.

"Dean, you're so good at planning shit." Dean mimes offense. "I'm so fucking lucky you're my friend."

Leighton laughs. "No one has ever said that."

He looks to her with faux offense. "That hurts, Leigh. That cuts me deep."

"Uh-huh." She taps her heeled sandals together—she's sitting on the counter.

Dean is leaning against it, next to her. Ryan is on her other side, with his usual glum look. Well, he looks a bit less glum than usual. I'm pretty sure this is happy by Ryan standards.

"Thanks." Walker smiles. "You're the best." Walker offers a high five.

Dean takes it, pulls him into a hug, pats him on the back. It's not one of those guy hugs where they seem afraid to get too close.

They're comfortable. Like brothers.

Walker steps back. Looks to me.

I motion to the room. Go ahead.

He nods and moves on to thanking/accepting Happy Birthday's from everyone else. Brendon and Kaylee are here. As is Emma and a male date. Or maybe a friend. It's not clear from the way they're standing. He's cute, but he seems a little uptight for her.

There are another half a dozen people I don't know—plus Sandy and John. Dean really went all out. He is a good friend. A great friend even.

Dean nudges Leighton with his shoulder. "You want a drink?"

"You have anything good?"

"You think I'd skimp for Walker's birthday?" He folds his arms. "I only have good shit."

"Should I measure your love by how much you spent on booze?" She looks to Ryan. "What if he loves Walker more?"

Ryan shrugs. "Never doubted that."

"Really?" She tilts her head to one side. "You're okay with your brother loving his BFF more than he loves you?"

Again, Ryan shrugs.

She shoots me a look. You buying this?

Dean laughs. "He's just playing hard to get." He reaches out and musses Ryan's hair. Despite being the younger brother, he's about two inches taller than Ryan.

"Hey." Ryan fixes his hair. "I know you're desperate for any edge you can get, but don't fuck with the hair."

"An edge?" Dean cocks a brow. "Really?"

"Yeah. We both know all the women here are looking at me," Ryan says.

"Say they are? What's it matter? You haven't looked twice at a girl since… it's a party. I'm not gonna bring her up." He turns to Leighton. "Usual?"

She nods. "Yes, please." But there's something in her voice. A frustration. Her gaze shifts to Ryan. She studies him like her life depends on it.

He takes a long sip of his drink and lets out a soft sigh.

Her teeth sink into her lip.

She's into a guy she'll never have.

And Ryan is still heartbroken over his ex.

That must be it.

Dean turns to me. "What's your poison?"

"Just orange juice, thanks." I force a smile.

Dean shoots me a curious look, but he still turns and moves to the bar.

Leighton makes a point of pulling her gaze away from Ryan. "How long has it been now? You and Walker?"

"A few months." I do a quick check of the math in my head.

Her eyes get dreamy. "Damn. I never thought I'd see the day. You two look good together."

"Everyone knows that." Walker steps toward us. He goes straight to me. Slides his arms around my waist. Brings his lips to my ear. "Tell me you're not wearing anything under that dress." He drags his fingertips over my hips, feeling for panties.

"Would you really want to know that?" My skin buzzes from his touch. "You have to wait."

He shakes his head and motions to the back room.

Dean clears his throat. He hands a drink to me, hands another to Leighton, sips the third.

Walker shoots him a really? Look.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Make it really fucking loud. You know I only watch amateur porn."

Leighton laughs. "Everyone in California knows that."

Dean looks to me. "Did you know that, Iris?"

"I got it the tenth time you mentioned it." A lot of the last month of awesomeness has involved hanging out with Walker's friends. Even talking to them one-on-one. It feels good, being accepted by the group, communicating with people who aren't obsessed with grad school or sobriety.

Walker presses his lips to my neck as his fingers skim the hem of my dress. "Not sure if I can bring myself to torture Leighton like that."

She's making a point of not sleeping with anyone.

She says it's because she makes bad choices with guys.

But, really, it must be because she's into Ryan. Though, being into Ryan does suggest she makes bad choices with guys. He's the dictionary definition of emotionally unavailable.

Ahem. I'm not shrinking her. Or him. No matter how fascinating it is. From a psychology perspective. It's not that it's juicy gossip. Not at all.

"Nah, the audio porn is good for her. Gives her something to spank it to when she gets home," Dean says.

Her cheeks flush. "Shut the fuck up."

"Girls don't spank it," Ryan says.

"That's true." I lean into Walker's touch. Mmm. Contemplating sex in the back room. It is his birthday.

"Girls masturbate," Dean says. "Let me ask Emma." He waves in her direction. "Em. Do you touch yourself?"

She rolls her eyes and waves him off.

He laughs. "That's a yes."

"Of course girls masturbate," Leighton says. "But we don't 'spank it.'"

"Jill off?" he asks.

"Ew." Her nose scrunches in distaste. "You're twenty-five. Why can't you say 'masturbate'?"

Ryan shakes his head kids these days.

"I don't care what you call it sweetness. As long as I can watch sometime." Walker slides his hand under my dress. Presses his palm against my bare ass. His fingers curl into the back of my thong. "Mmm. Bad girl."

I clear my throat.

"You gonna finger her right there?" Dean asks. "'Cause I'm very happy to watch that." He nudges Leighton. "You?"

"Uh…" She takes a long sip of her drink. "I'm interested to see when they stop."

"That's good. Real coy shit, Leigh." Dean laughs.

"Call me Leigh again and I'm dumping your Belvedere on your head," she says.

"You'd waste good vodka?" He feigns offense.

"I can't think of a more satisfying use," she says.

Walker drags his fingertips over my skin.

He laughs. "They're still going at it."

She laughs too. "Amateur porn, huh?"

Even Ryan nods. "Maybe that's his birthday present."

Dean nods. "Shit. Never took you for an exhibitionist, Williams. Guess it's true what they say. You never really know someone." His eyes meet mine.

I swear, he's talking about me. About my secret.

But how can he know?

How can he be sure?

I swallow hard as I turn back to my boyfriend. "You have something to tell me?"

He nods. "I'm gonna take you to that back room and fuck you so loudly everybody here fucks themselves to us tonight."

Well…

Uh…

My blush spreads over my cheeks, down my chest. Every part of me gets hot at once. I… uh…

He presses his palm into my lower back. "You want everyone to hear you come, sweetness?"

I barely manage to nod.

He smiles as he pulls my body into his.

* * *

We exit to a slow clap.

It's just Dean slow clapping, but still.

Leighton laughs. "We barely heard anything."

Dean shakes his head. "We heard every second."

Sandy looks to me. "We heard… well, Iris, you're really loud."

Oh God.

Kaylee adjusts her cream cardigan. "It wasn't that loud. You weren't any louder than Walker."

Ryan plops on the counter next to Leighton. "You're both loud."

"Sorry." I smooth my dress. Fix my hair.

Walker beams, proud.

God, this is embarrassing. Hot. But also embarrassing.

I bury myself in my boyfriend's chest.

He wraps his arms around me. Leans in to whisper. "You keep doing that, I'm gonna have you again."

"You're unusually insatiable."

"Existential dread."

I laugh. "Really?"

"I can't think insightful shit?"

"No, you can—"

"Sounds like I can't."

"It's just not the type of thing you usually say." I stare into his dark eyes. "You look good for your age."

"Do I?"

"You're thirty-five, right?" I tease

He shakes his head. "Eighty."

"Really?"

He laughs. "Maybe."

"You have to tell me your skin care routine. You look amazing."

"Not a day over forty?"

"Yeah." I reach up to run my fingers through his hair. "You look twenty-five."

"That a good thing?"

"It suits you." I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his. "I should get your present."

He nods to the back room. "It wasn't that?"

My smile spreads over my lips. "Better."

"Unless it's a tape of you fucking yourself, it's not."

"A tape?"

"Any format."

"Okay. It's almost as good." I squeeze his hand as I step backward. This gift really is perfect.

The bell rings. Heeled footsteps move through the door.

Conversations drop to a murmur.

The room gets quiet.

Too quiet.

No…

Walker's sister is here.

She spots me and folds her arms. Her eyes fill with something. Regret or threat or offense. I don't know. But I don't like it.

I swallow hard.

Walker looks to me. "Give me a minute."

“Of course.” I nod, but the steadiness in my voice is bullshit.