“Happy birthday?” I say, wincing.
He shakes his head, smiling broadly as he beelines across the room toward me, dodging furniture and people in his path. Without warning, Bo picks me up off the ground and into his arms, crushing me against him in a tight hug as my feet dangle underneath me.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, his mouth tilted into the crook of my neck.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him too. “I said I would be,” I whisper back.
“Did you do all of this?” he asks, his voice less strained but not quite right.
“Yeah.”
He sighs out, his breath warm against my throat. “Thank you.”
“So this is what it’s like up here,” I say, admiring my new viewpoint from over Bo’s shoulder. “I like it.”
“I missed you,” he says, lowering me back to stand on my own two feet.
I reach beside me for a party hat and hold it up to him. “It was just one night,” I say.
Bo bends at the waist, allowing me to fasten it to his head.
“Happy birthday,” I repeat, just for him this time.
“You didn’t text me back,” he says, his lips twitching into an uneasy grin. “I thought you were…”
I narrow my eyes on him, noticing the unusual mopiness across his face and the wildly tousled hair that usually signals his unease. His beard got tidied up and trimmed, but I’m glad he didn’t let the barber take off any of his hair. I love it longer.
“I’m sorry. I was busy doing this, and I forgot to reply.”
“No, don’t be sorry. This is amazing. I’m…” He shakes himself, reaching out for me. “Hi,” he says, pulling me against his chest again.
I laugh, hugging him. “Bo, are you okay? There are other people here who—”
“I’m a little drunk.” He straightens, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his grey sweater. “I haven’t had a drink since you told me about the baby. Solidarity, you know? But I think I’m a lightweight now?” He swallows, dropping his chin. “I had two sampler flights, and Dad ended up having to drive us home.” He scratches his jaw, looking around with a polite smile. “Everyone’s looking over here…” he whispers.
I nod thoughtfully, trying not to smirk. “You gonna be okay, big guy?”
He nods, licking his lips. “I’m gonna get some food. That’ll help.”
“Great idea.” I pat his back as he wanders over to the food table, greeting more of his friends as he forgoes a plate and shoves a few different things into his mouth at once.
Sarah widens her eyes at me, her lips pulled inward as I walk toward her in the kitchen. “That was quite the entrance.”
“He’s a little tipsy, turns out.” I grimace, laughing.
“I thought he was going to carry you around the whole party like a favourite toy.” She hands me a wineglass filled with lemonade. “He looked a little tortured when he saw you. You should probably put him out of his misery. Or not, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“He thought I was mad at him,” I explain. “I didn’t text him back, and… after yesterday, I think he probably feels as uneasy as I do.”
“Well, you should definitely show him how not mad you are,” Sarah says, smirking into her glass of merlot.
“He’ll have to sober up first,” I laugh.
Kevin joins us, sipping on his drink as all three of us watch Bo introduce his dad to Walter, Jeremiah, and Adamir.
“Bo’s dad is insanely hot, right?” Kevin whispers.
“It’s a little jarring, honestly,” I reply, the hand on my neck slipping down to my chest.
“Would it be weird for you if I invited him to be our third?” Sarah asks, turning her smirk toward me. “I think Caleb could be persuaded.”
“Shut up,” I say, sputtering my drink.
“I think I’d risk our friendship for him,” she whispers.
“Oh, you would, huh?”
“Oui, oui,” Sarah says, giggling into her wine.
The party was a huge success.
Bo bounced around between his friends all evening, all the while devouring a truly startling amount of food. Sarah challenged Walter to a lip-sync battle and got her ass handed to her with a vote of six to one. Caleb, of course, voted with his heart.
Robert held court with Jeremiah and Kevin most of the evening, discussing French cuisine. Adamir and I bonded over our love of plants, and I sent him home with a dozen cuttings to propagate when he cut out early.
Then, after a truly wonderful evening, the party died down a little after midnight. Walter caught a ride home with Jeremiah and Kevin. Caleb and Sarah stayed to help clean up. Not that Sarah is any help in her current state.
“This was great, Win,” Caleb says, tying a garbage bag.
“I had fun,” I say, smiling into the sink as I wash wineglasses. “I hope Bo did too.”
“Sure seems like it,” Caleb says, peeking out into the living room. “I think we should get going, though. Have you got this?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll just do the rest tomorrow,” I say, drying my hands on a tea towel. “Thanks for helping.”
“Any time,” he says, putting his arm around me as we turn the corner into the living room. I fall next to Sarah on the couch and begin petting her hair away from her face. “Time to go, babe,” I whisper. “You can sleep in your nice, warm bed.”
Sarah sits up, groaning.
“Ready, love?” Caleb says, bending over the back of the couch. Sarah stumbles over to him, then pets his face as he shakes his head affectionately. “Yeah, you’re ready. Okay, here we go.” He guides her to the front hall with a hand on the small of her back and helps her into her shoes and coat.
“Byeee,” Sarah whines out, waving from the door with her eyes mostly shut. “Robert, it was so good to meet you. Bo, happy birthday. You’re great. Win…” Sarah opens one eye, looking at me with a soft, hazy smile. “Best of luck with all your future endeavours,” she hiccups.
“Nailed it,” Caleb says gently, rubbing her back. “Bye, guys. Happy birthday, man!”
“Thank you,” Bo says to them both. “Thanks for coming,” he repeats.
“Love you!” I shout after them as Caleb shuts the door.
“You’ve got a good group of friends, Robbie,” Bo’s dad says, sighing. “It’s nice to see.”
I glance between the men, but they both slowly turn toward me, smiling appreciatively.
“I’m very lucky,” Bo says softly—eyes held on mine.
I blush, but the dimly lit room is hopefully dark enough to disguise it well.
“I’m going to go take a shower before bed,” Bo says. “You okay?” he asks me.
“Of course,” I say, smiling up at him.
As soon as Bo’s out of the room, Robert stands and moves to the opposite end of the couch from me. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I like knowing my son is well looked-after.”
“Ah, well, it’s just a party.”
“No, it isn’t. He’s happy now. He was not happy last year. Who could blame him?”