Page 21 of Ex- Factor

I knew he didn’t want to do anything for his birthday. He’d said it three times.

“I don’t need gifts, Eshe. It’s just another day. Don’t make it a thing.” Cassius told me it had something to do with his parents. I left that alone. I’d let him bring those issues to me when he felt comfortable.

But some days aren’t meant to be regular days. Some people aren’t either.

I made it a thing.

My phone notification went off. I checked it. It was Angel saying Silas was on the way up. She told him she needed him to pick up Ekon from her cousin because we knew he would without question.

The hotel room was quiet, lit only by the flicker of a candle and the soft glow of a lamp shaded in gold.

I’d spent all morning moving slowly through my nerves because of what I had to say, booking the dinner, setting out the clothes I knew he liked best on me, rehearsing what I was going to say and immediately forgetting it.

He knocked on the door just after seven. I opened it and he was leaning against the frame in a T-shirt and gym shorts, Nike slides on his feet. He smelled like his cologne and wind. I told him to dress casual and meet me at the Westin off Bayshore. He didn’t ask why.

He frowned. Then took me in, eyes rolling down my frame. I was wearing a silk red robe and nothing else. Lust flashed in his eyes, then confusion.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were tired from work?”

“I made Angel lie to you. Happy birthday, goofy. I know you didn’t think I was going to at least show up for your birthday?”

I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room.

Silas stepped through the door and just stood there for a second, blinking hard like he couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

His eyes swept across the table set for two, the wine chilling in a bucket, the way the curtains billowed from the balcony like some unseen force was helping set the romantic mood.

“You did all this?” he asked, his voice already quiet.

I nodded. “You said you didn’t want anything. But I couldn’t do nothing. At least I could offer a change of scenery.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushed my side, resting there like he was grounding himself. “I don’t deserve this.”

“You do,” I whispered. “You do and more. Now go wash up so we can eat.”

The chef came while he was in the bathroom. She had brown skin, full lips, lashes so long they blinked in slow motion. She wore all black and gold hoops, a fitted black blouse and skirt, and she was smiling like she knew exactly who she was and how good her food tasted.

Silas froze mid-step when he walked out and saw her.

He blinked. “Wait…”

She was plating the lobster mac.

Silas turned to me, grinning. “You didn’t.”

I sipped my wine, shrugged. He had been talking about hiring her for a private party for a while, then he’d try and reassure me that I shouldn’t be jealous.

I wasn’t, but I did notice she looked like she and Angel could be friends. He had some kind of complex when it came to her, but I understood she was one of the people in his comfort zone.

“She was available,” I said, tossing my legs across the loveseat.

She introduced herself. “I’m Chef Vixen. And you’re very handsome, Silas.”

Silas’s grin got wider.

She waved her hand over the plate with a little flourish, the gold chain at her neck catching the candlelight. “Lobster mac, three cheeses, black truffle on top—just how you like it, birthday boy.” Her voice was low, syrupy.

Silas raised a brow. “You know how I like it, huh?”

She smiled, slow and knowing. “Yes. You look like a man who appreciates flavor.” Then she leaned in a little too close and whispered, “And a little heat.”

I didn’t blink. Just watched him turn into the male version of a fangirl.

She disappeared until after dinner. She came back with dessert.

I watched her feed him chocolate-covered strawberries like she did on Instagram to the men that hired her.

She fed him slowly, and sucked the leftover chocolate off her fingers afterward.

Silas kept looking at me. I didn’t flinch.

I smiled and nodded, reassuring him. I wouldn’t have done shit like this for Donte; his ass probably would have tried to fuck and marry her.

I thought that without the bitterness or sting I used to feel.

I was proud of myself for moving on and not backtracking.

I raised my glass. “Happy Birthday.”

After dessert, I had him lie down on the massage table I’d ordered to the room and rubbed his shoulders with oil I’d made myself—peppermint and lavender.

He let out a breath so heavy it felt like something left him. I worked my fingers into the knots he carried like armor, the places he never let anyone touch.

“You okay?” I asked.

His eyes were closed, face turned into the cradle. “Yeah. This just feels… good.”

He nearly fell asleep. After, we lay down together, the sheets cool against our skin.

“I have a confession to make.”

He mumbled, “Go ‘head,” under his breath.

“I love you.”

His hand paused. I could feel him hold his breath.

“We haven’t known each other a full year,” I continued. “And maybe that sounds ridiculous. Maybe it is. But I’m saying it because I know you. And I know you need to hear it.”

He didn’t speak.

I sat up, pulled the sheet to my chest, and turned toward him.

“I’m in love with you, Silas. I’m still figuring myself out. But Angel talked to me after that whole Donte mess, and she made me realize… you deserve clarity. You deserve to know that it’s only you. I’m not gonna have you walking around questioning it.”

His voice was a whisper. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” I said, like it was gospel.

His eyes closed. A single breath left him. And then his hand reached for mine beneath the covers, threading our fingers together.

I rolled over on top of him, straddling him, reaching in between us. He stopped me.

“I don’t even want to have sex,” he murmured. “Not tonight.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I just want to lay here next to you. And talk. Let you love me out loud.”

I leaned in and kissed his temple, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. Slowly, for a few seconds. Then I pulled away.

“It’s your birthday. Whatever you want.”

We stayed in the bed, sleeping and talking until morning.