“No. I didn’t. She was there when my crazy family conference called to sing me happy birthday. The full extended version with Jamie screeching ‘and many more’ over and over until Mom told him to hush.”

My glare eases as a grin breaks through my irritation. I nod and give her a soft kiss, accepting the proffered excuse.

“I’m an open book.” She throws her arms wide. “Want to know something, Big Man? Just ask.”

I peer down at her. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“To hear you call me your girlfriend over and over again.” She winks at me. I shake my head, my grin giving way to a full-on smile.

I pull her forward, slam the hood of the car shut and set her down on top of it. Wrapping one arm around her waist, I pull her to the edge and step between her thighs. I brush her golden hair off her shoulder with my other hand, trailing my nose along her neck.

“Is that all you want, girlfriend?” I ask on a breathy exhale.

Jessie wraps her arms around my neck, slipping her fingers into my hair.

“That’s not all I want.” She pulls back and kisses me, dancing her tempting lips over mine.

With her real present burning a hole in my pocket, it’s my turn to pull away. She lets out an annoyed moan in disapproval of my breaking the kiss.

“I got you something,” I stammer, nervous as fuck that she isn’t going to like it.

She leans away, her hazel eyes going wide and her mouth falling open. “You got me a birthday present?”

“Nothing special.”

“Can I have it?”

“Now?” I look around the grungy garage.

She grabs my shirt collar, pulling me down to her until our foreheads are touching. “Give it to me, Big Man,” she croons.

My grip on her thighs tightens, digging my fingers into her soft skin with need. I cup her face with my left hand, kissing her hard while I grab the velvet box out of my pocket with my right. She blinks, shaking off the lust-filled haze, before her eyes focus on the little box I’m holding between us.

“Devin…” she whispers, tracing the outline of the box in my palm. She cracks it and silence falls on us like a guillotine. Her face is blank, and she’s caressing the gold pendant with her delicate fingers.

I swallow the boulder lodged in my throat. “You lost your necklace a couple of weeks ago.” I explain, feeling stupid.

“It’s a hummingbird.”

“Your mom called you a hummingbird. At dinner. Because you never sit still.”

She stares at the pendant, silent as the grave. I should’ve gone with the damn sweatpants.

“If you hate it—”

“Shut up,” she commands. She grabs my shirt, dragging me down and crushing her lips against mine. Her voice cracks. “I love it.”