Forty

Ben fidgeted on Riley’s loveseat, his eyes drifting up to the strings of fairy lights crisscrossing overhead. I feel like I’m taking advantage. “But you already gave me a card…” A second slice of birthday cake waited on the milk crate beside his knees.

“Don’t you know the nonnegotiable birthday rules?” Riley reached past his legs and pulled two gifts wrapped in racing Pac-Mans and ghosts from underneath the loveseat. “There must be cake, and there must be presents.”

Ben shifted back into the cushions, the bag of mini pretzels from the party crinkling between his hip and the armrest. “Two gifts? Riles…you can’t affor—”

“If I told you I used a gift card for one, would you shut up?”

“But—”

“Ben, please.”

She handed him the two presents and sat down, the old loveseat’s springs groaning under duress. “Open them!” A summery nighttime breeze blew a Funyuns bag off the windowsill, scattering yellow rings on the floor.

“Love the paper!” Ben picked up the smaller of the two gifts. This one’s soft and squishy. His thumb popped the sticky tape…pretzel-print socks! His smile did the impossible and grew wider. “My favorite New York snack captured in hosiery!”

“You do have a thing for funny socks…”

“You been copping a sly look at my ankles?” Ben looked down. Santa and Rudolph today. “I hate to disappoint, but the daft socks weren’t really a fashion choice. More like a beggars-can’t-be-choosers thing…”

Riley tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

My mouth—fuck. Can’t change course now. Just…say it quick! “The fucking hairless rat-cat my flatmate adopted got into my room, chewed all my socks. It was the middle of winter, my feet were freezing, and I was completely skint”—he winced, barely pausing for breath—“so I nicked some on Boxing Day from a pound shop.” His expression tightened the faster his words flew. “I mean, it’s not like the shop lost a huge profit because of me, and they’re ugly and Christmas was over, so they needed a loving home—”

“Ben, I get it.” Riley balled up the discarded paper and lobbed it into her bin.

Oh. She’s not…shocked…

“Being broke and desperate…” She grimaced. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, too.”

“Like what?”

“You’re going to think I’m awful.” Riley stared at the unopened present in Ben’s lap.

I doubt that. “Try me.”

She swallowed. “I only said yes to Josh because…” Her eyes closed. “He said he’d help cover Mom’s medical costs. She still doesn’t know that’s why I said yes.”

Woah. So…you weren’t heartbroken about Josh but…what the split would mean for your mom. Ben swept his hair from his eyes. “Well, nothing to be ashamed of there. You were being selfless, not selfish, and I get it—I’d do anything to help my mum.” He glanced at the socks, a grin rising. “Thanks, Hope. I love ’em. Now I can bench Santa and the gang, mix it up for a while!”

The smile returned to Riley’s face. She pointed at his second gift, a large flat square. “I hope you…ah, I’ll just shut up.”

Ben chuckled and ripped away the paper with one tug. Oh…woah. He froze, his jaw falling open. She bought me a-ha. His finger traced over the album’s cover.

“Do you like it? The guy said it’s their first album.” She deflated slightly when Ben didn’t respond. “I-I checked. That ‘Take On Me’ song from your phone is there, see?”

Flipping it over, he swallowed with a heavy nod. He blinked quickly. Don’t be a wuss. “It’s…”

“Secondhand, I know. I wish I could’ve afforded a new one—if they exist—”

“No. It’s perfect.” Ben pulled out the inner sleeve. A dusty scent accompanied the vinyl. “It’s the real deal—from the eighties.”

“That’s good…right?”

“God, this brings back so many memories. When Mum got sick, I—” Shit. He tucked the sleeve back in the cover. Go on. Tell her. She trusted you, now it’s your turn. He inhaled heavily. “I was put in a group home for a while.”

“A group home? Why?”

“I had nowhere to go. Mum’s adoptive parents and brother died in a car accident when she was eighteen.”

Riley’s mouth fell open. “Oh God!”

“So she couldn’t look after me on her own. Doctors said her recovery would be long and painful after surgery. There’d be chemo appointments and homecare visits—too much to deal with. I was twelve and had never spent a night away from her. Mum packed up my bag, put a name tag on it. I kinda felt like Paddington Bear, being dropped off with instructions—Please look after this Ben—but with peanut butter sarnies instead of marmalade.” A hint of a smile graced his mouth. “This record, though…Mum and I danced around to it while she cooked our tea. She gave it to me the day before she went in for surgery. I guess she thought it would help me feel close to her even when I wasn’t.”

“Aww, I bet it did.”

“Yeah, for a while. There was an old record player in the home and I’d play it all the time, but one day after school, I heard yelling and banging upstairs. I shared a room with two other boys and one of them—not sure who—had smashed it to pieces. I burst into tears and they laughed their arses off, called me a ‘sucky crybaby’, which made me cry even more…about the record, about missing Mum—everything.” He rubbed his nose. “The one thing she gave me to look after…”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

A tear trickled down his cheek and his fist rose quickly, smothering it. “Sorry. This really took me back for a minute.” DAMMIT, get your shit together, mate.

Riley wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I can’t imagine. Twelve years old, being taken away from my mom—sharing a bedroom with bullies…I would’ve been bawling. I probably would’ve thrown up.”

“Yeah. I did that, too.” He cleared his throat. “I hated disappointing Mum then—I still do! You know how it is.” Admiring the record, a soft grin rose on his face. “If we could talk to our younger selves now, eh? Dust yourself off, don’t let the bastards grind you down, and always make your mum proud.”

“Did you speak to her today?” Riley pulled her arm away, slowly.

“Yeah, this morning. She prefers chatting when I’m not pissed.”

“You’re pretty sober now, birthday boy.” She stuck her big toe inside a Funyun on the floor.

He set his presents on the milk crate and playfully leaned into her shoulder. Riley didn’t shift away. “Yeah, I paced myself. I wanted to remember my first birthday in New York.”

“First of many.”

“I hope so.” Catching her eye, butterflies swirled in his stomach. Should I? God, I want to kiss her so badly and…I think she does, too? He tilted his head, staring at her lips. A first kiss changes everything…

Riley stopped blinking and swallowed. Full lips parting slightly, she sucked in a breath, waiting.

I’m in over my head…what do I do? What if I fall in love with her and she doesn’t love me back? Ben let out a jagged exhale, cursing his past. And if she does fall in love with me…if I break her heart, I’ll never forgive myself. I…I can’t risk it. He pressed his lips tenderly to her cheek and pulled away, retreating into the cushions.