Page 44 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

FITZ

Lauren comes back from the bathroom wearing one of my Fitzgerald Firm sweatshirts, with the sleeves rolled up at her wrists, her hair still up but in a just fucked mess, and a pair of my gym socks.

I, however, am in nothing but my black boxer briefs as she skips over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

I’m shocked when she reaches up on her toes and kisses me.

Her lips are so soft, and her touch so gentle, I wouldn’t mind living this night on a loop for a little while.

“Are you hungry?” she asks, tilting her head back to look at me.

“Starving.” She bites her lip and grabs my hand to pull me behind her.

“I picked up your true love in food form, but it’s clearly going to need to be reheated. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” I watch as she preheats the oven, pulling out a pizza pan and placing a few pieces on it, before grabbing the bottle of wine. I take it out of her hands and she frowns.

“Wait…was that drink at your dad’s party the only drink I get to have all night?” I laugh and shake my head.

“No, I was just coming to pour our drinks. You’ve done enough for me today.” I assure her, pinching her chin.

“ Hardly ,” she argues. “I’m a huge birthday girl. If you don’t feel absolutely spoiled, then I have failed.”

“Do people spoil you on your birthday, Trouble?” She smiles and nods.

“Yeah, my friends never let me down in that department.” There’s a vacant sadness in her eyes that I can tell she’s trying to mask.

“Have other people let you down in that department?” I frown.

“It doesn’t matter if they have or not. I know who to surround myself with on days when I want to feel good…when I want to be happy.” I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her head.

“I’m sorry I brought it up, I just wanted to make sure you’ve felt just as special on your birthdays as you’ve made me feel tonight.” I feel her smile against my chest.

“You haven’t even opened your gift yet.” The devious little smirk on her face has me curious what on earth she might have gotten me. She puts the pizza in the oven, sets a timer on her phone, and grabs the big ass bag off the floor that’s been hiding behind the counter.

“Oh my god, you weren’t joking.” My eyes widen when I see the bag that’s half her size.

“I never joke about birthdays.” She holds the bag out to me and claps her hands. “Open it!”

“So bossy.”

“So slow.” I grin and start pulling the paper out of the bag. My brows pinch together when I pull out the first item. “A Taylor Swift record…” I look up at her and am terrified to react because I don’t know if this is supposed to be a joke or not.

“I noticed you didn’t have one yet,” she says simply.

I choose the safest route with vague gratitude.

“I certainly do not. Thank you.” I look at it again, seeing the title Midnights written across the top, not sure what I’m supposed to do with this.

Then she bursts into a fit of laughter. “What?” I’m starting to laugh now too simply because hers is so contagious.

“It’s a gag gift, Fitz…Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of?”

“Well I’m obviously going to make you listen to it with me because it’s a masterpiece , but I didn’t think you’d be like… jumping up and down excited about it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, I don’t get jump up and down excited about anything.

The closest thing to make that happen would be seeing you naked, and if you’re naked, I’m probably naked too and no one wants to see me jumping up and down like that.

” She gives me a seductive look and I shake my head at her.

“There’s more, but the rest aren’t gag gifts so if you don’t like those then just…

lie to me. Which is the only time in your life you’ll hear me say those words.

” I reach into the bag and pull out another record, though this one is a Frank Sinatra collectible.

I look up at her and she’s chewing on the inside of her lip again.

“Sweetheart, this is amazing. Where did you find this?”

“You really like it?” She looks so hopeful.

“Of course, I do.”

“I noticed last time I was here that you had a Christmas one but he has so many good non-Chrismtas songs that would sound amazing on vinyl.” I look at it again, turning it over to look at the songs listed.

“There’s more.” She jiggles the bag and I laugh at how impatient she is.

I pull out the next item—a heated blanket.

“We already bought a blanket.” I frown and her face falls.

“You’ve been without a woman in your life for far too long, there is no such thing as too many blankets. But there is such thing as too few, and that’s where you’re currently at.”

“Noted.” I look in the bag and see one last item, pulling it out with another confused look on my face.

“Turn it around.” I turn the small package around and see a handwritten note taped to the back of the card game.

I want to get tUNO you better. Xo, Trouble.

I bark out a laugh reading the pun and she smiles. “I know it’s cheesy, but it’s also true, so…” She shrugs, letting a few pieces of stray hair fall from her bun.

I brush them out of her face, leaning closer to her. “Then I’ll tell you anything you want tUNO .”

Her hand shoots up to cover my mouth. “I instantly regret making that joke, please don’t ever say that out loud again,” she says through another fit of giggles.

“Fine,” I mumble into her hand. She moves it when I stick my tongue out and lick her. She tilts her head in disapproval. “Thank you, Trouble. I think this might be the best birthday I’ve ever had.” Her hand caresses my cheek, flipping it over to do it again with her knuckles.

“You’re welcome.” Then she presses her lips softly to mine, right before the timer on her phone goes off. “Pizza is ready!”

“I’ll pour our drinks.” She practically bounces over to the oven and I catch a glimpse of her ass when she bends over to pull the pizza out. When she stands back up and looks over at me, her hair back down in her face, my heart constricts painfully in my chest.

I fear I’ve fallen in love with my fake girlfriend.

“So, how does this work?” We’re having a full-blown picnic on my living room rug, pizza and wine off to the side as she shuffles the deck of UNO cards.

“You’ve played UNO before, right?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Okay, so basically anytime you have to draw, you have to tell the other person something about yourself the other doesn’t know. Skips skip your turn to ask a question, and reverse changes the order meaning you get to ask two questions in a row. Got it?”

“Did you make these rules up?” I ask, seeing the genius behind it all.

“Yes.” She continues dealing the cards.

“Hm. Smart girl.” She glares at me. “I’m serious.” Her glare disappears.

“Oh. Okay. You ready?” She readjusts her position, grabbing her wine in her free hand.

“Let’s do it. How do we know who goes first?”

“Fitz, it’s your birthday. You go first, duh.” We both set about three cards each down before I have to draw one. She does a little dance in her spot, taking another sip of her wine before setting it on the coffee table next to us.

“Something I don’t know about you, go!” I think about it because I’m just not realizing how much there is we don’t know about each other.

“Uhh, okay. I wear glasses.”

Her eyes narrow on me. “Try again, genius. I already know that.”

“How?” I try to recall a time I've worn them around her and come up empty.

“The night we ran into you at Lucky Bastard, you were wearing them.”

“I was?” I frown, catching a confused look from her.

“Damn, and you say shit about how much I drink.” I roll my eyes at her and she tells me to pick something else.

“Okay, uh… I played baseball in high school.” Her mouth pops open and she looks me up and down. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just putting buy Fitz baseball pants on my to-do list for tomorrow.”

“No, thank you.” I take a sip of the wine Lauren picked, and I have to admit, it’s actually good as hell.

She playfully scoffs. “Are you saying you wouldn’t wear baseball pants for me?” I think about it for a minute.

“Just the pants, right? Not a whole uniform.”

“No, that’d be weird.” She scrunches her nose and I reach across and pinch it.

“Well, I don’t know, you might be into that sort of thing.” She starts laughing at me and I start sifting through my cards again. “Is it your turn yet? Mine has gone on way too long.”

“Not my fault your first thing was something I already knew,” she mumbles under her breath, playing her cards until she has to draw one.

“Finally.” I sigh in relief.

She fires off her fact without hesitation. “I secretly went to cosmetology school before getting my degree in marketing.”

“Why secretly?”

She shakes her head, wagging her finger at me as she finishes off her glass of wine. “No follow-up questions.”

“I don’t like these rules.” She shoots me a sassy look and I pull out a reverse. “Yes! You again.”

“Ginny was named after a character on one of my favorite TV shows because I was in the middle of a binge re-watch and was lacking in creativity.” A second later I see movement out of the corner of my eye and jump. “Speak of the devil.”

“Yes?” I tease, and she rolls her eyes at me. Ginny walks up and begins rubbing against my calves. “Hey there Gin. Where the hell have you been hiding?” I look over at Lauren and her cheeks have turned red.

“I put her in the bedroom when we got back.” I’m curious for a moment if she knew where tonight might lead, but the fact that she locked Ginny up in another room along with that sexy lace number she had on, I think she just might have.

“Your turn.” I look down to see I have no cards and draw, thinking of another thing to tell her.

“The first, and only, tattoo I got when I turned 18 was a bull.” She pours herself another glass of wine, topping mine off as well.

“Why a bull?”

“No follow-up questions,” I remind her.

“Ugh, fine.” The card I laid down was a draw two so it’s immediately her turn.

“In eighth grade I memorized every single state flower and bird.”

“ Please let me ask a follow-up question,” I beg, making her giggle.

“No! I was so weird and that’s all you need to know.

” She hops up and takes the wine bottle to the recycling bin before returning to our game.

Meanwhile, Ginny curls up on the couch and looks like she’s going right back to sleep.

I thought kittens were more active than this.

“Okay, we’re running low on cards so make your next one good,” she yells from the fridge, and I look over my shoulder, only to see her hidden by the door of it.

“Do you want me to say it while you’re in there?” I hear her mumble something to herself and then I hear something click.

“Uh, no. Just wait for me. Hey, can you close your eyes again?” I glare in her direction, fully aware she can’t see me, then I do as she’s asked.

“They’re closed.” I hear her shut the doors, followed by a cabinet and a drawer and I can’t for the life of me figure out what she’s doing.

I can feel her near me and a few seconds later she says, “Open them.” The space around us is illuminated by two small candles, a three and a five, and she starts to sing “ Happy Birthday” .

As if tonight couldn’t be more perfect, I see her face lit up by the candlelight, and her smile makes my heart beat just a little faster.

“Make a wish, Fitz.” I’m not typically one to believe in wishes, but if there’s a chance in hell this one will come true, I’m taking it.

I wish I could keep you forever, Trouble.

Then I blow out the candles and she sets the cake down on the coffee table next to us.

“I hope this is okay. I was kind of stuck on what flavor to get, so I felt like cookies and cream was a safe bet. Maybe that can be your next fact because we did not discuss that on the plane ride here, and what girlfriend doesn’t know her boyfriend’s favorite ice cream flavor?

” She stops mid-ramble and gasps. “Oh my god. Can you even eat ice cream? You’re not like, lactose intolerant or anything are you?

Do you even like ice cream?” I grab her face and kiss her to shut her up—something I’ve dreamed of doing more times than I can begin to count.

“I am not lactose intolerant. I do like ice cream. Cookies and cream was an excellent choice. You did good, Sweetheart. Thank you.” I caress her cheek and see her relax a little more.

“Okay, good.” She smiles. “Last card?” She looks down at the deck and I nod, picking mine back up, thinking of something else I could tell her that she doesn’t know yet. I toss the cards down and she looks at me, puzzled.

“My real name is Vincent. Vincent Fitzgerald.” The smile on her face, and the way it reaches her eyes, etches her deeper into my heart than she already was.

She crawls over to me, straddling my lap before running her cool fingers through my hair.

I can feel her short nails scrape along my scalp in the most soothing way before her hand comes down to rest on my cheek.

“Well then. Happy birthday, Vincent.”