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“I heard it’s your birthday next week.”
Annabeth had nearly nodded off when he said it, warm and content in the drowsy silence that always settled between them after sex, once she was tucked into his side and had her arms around him. She liked that about being with Percy — that she fit with him, even in the quiet moments; that when they were together, they could talk about nothing or everything at all, and be okay.
Though, she had to say, she would have preferred a little less nothing if this was the subject he wanted to bring up tonight.
She let out an exasperated groan, throwing Percy’s arm off her shoulder and rolling onto her stomach so she could fix him with a frown. “Is that what you and Piper were whispering about in the corner tonight? Because I explicitly told her not to tell you about that.”
Percy did his best to look innocent — a task the powerful son of Neptune rarely ever succeeded at, including now — and shrugged his broad shoulders, reaching for her so he could resume playing with her tousled curls. It was another thing he liked doing after sex, running his hands through her hair, wrapping and unwrapping silken strands around his fingers like it was spun gold.
“You do have a Wikipedia page now, you know. Maybe I read it on that,” he replied casually. Annabeth’s frown deepened and she pinched the tender skin under his arm. “Ow! Stop that, you sadist.” He swatted her hand away. “Fine, yes, the topic might’ve come up. She mentioned something about you and that stupid husband of hers finally growing out of joint birthday parties. So I asked about it.”
Annabeth didn’t believe for a second that Piper had accidentally let it slip that her birthday was just days away to the man she’d been sleeping with for the last month and a half. Piper McLean-Grace was a PR genius; she never did anything accidentally, especially not when she was trying to give Annabeth’s normally pathetic love life a boost
She’d been trying to keep Piper and Percy apart until after her birthday for just that reason. Luckily, they didn’t run in the same New Rome social circles and Percy had been out of town for the last week, so it hadn’t been hard. But she hadn’t expected to see him at Jason’s birthday party tonight.
Neither of them had mentioned the party in the days leading up to it. Not that they’d talked a lot while he was gone, just a few emails, texts and photos sent here and there — a normal level of communication for whatever this thing between them was. They’d moved well past the it’s just a hook-up stage, but were a bit too old to be friends with benefits. They definitely weren’t committed relationship material, so maybe it was a summer fling sort of thing? Annabeth wasn’t sure what to call it.
Anyway, the point was, they’d had better things to talk about than Jason’s 28th birthday party and, even if they hadn’t, Annabeth wouldn’t have asked Percy to go with her. That would’ve been too much like a date, which they most certainly didn’t go on, and she wasn’t going to bring a guy Jason barely tolerated to his party.
But, apparently, Percy was always diplomatically issued an invitation to whatever event the Greek embassy held and had shown up of his own accord, wearing one of his well-cut suits that made him look every bit as dark and dangerous as the day she’d met him.
When she asked him why he bothered to come, he’d murmured, “Because I knew you’d be here,” in that rumbly voice of his that never failed to make her blush. She didn’t want to linger too much on what that meant — Percy coming to event he’d undoubtedly be miserable at just to see her — but she adored him for it all the same.
Annabeth had never been big on parties, particularly the ones that required her to schmooze or find common ground with hundreds of people she didn’t know, and it was even worse now that whole truth about Kronos’s death was out there. All that hand shaking and ass kissing and the surprising amount of snide comments about Jason at his own party made her skin crawl; she probably would’ve polished off a whole tray of champagne glasses by herself if Percy hadn’t shown up when he had. It’d been agony, waiting for an appropriate moment to excuse themselves so Annabeth could drag him back to her apartment and ride him into the mattress.
She should’ve just grabbed him by the tie and ran the moment she saw him; then Piper couldn’t have let it slip about her birthday.
“She wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Annabeth grumbled again, as if that would undo her friend’s actions and make Percy forget what he’d learned.
“Why? Is it a secret?”
Just to the men I sleep with.
The glib reply was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, thinking better of it.
There had been truth to those words, once upon a time. After the war, getting close to people had mattered just as much as celebrating her birthdays did — not at all. After Luke, telling her partners about anything personal seemed like a bad decision, one that would lead down a road toward the intimacy and heartbreak she didn’t want any more. A man didn’t need to know her birthday to fuck her, but he did if he was going to hurt her.
It was a logic that had born out of fear, a shield she’d used to protect and distance herself. It was an idea that had served its purpose and now had little use in her life — particularly since Percy Jackson knew far more intimate and important things about her.
Whatever she had with this man, Annabeth had walked into it with her eyes open and heart firmly guarded. It would never be something permanent. It could never be by the very nature of who they were — a Greek and a Roman, a daughter of Athena and a son of Neptune. She wouldn’t never allow herself to lose sight of that, to let herself hope for something more.
And birthdays? They always led to something more.
“Not a secret. Just not something I like making a big deal about,” she said, resting her arms on his chest. “And despite the fact that you are not my boyfriend and owe me exactly zilch on my birthday, you’d make it into one.”
Percy looked distinctly affronted. “I would not.”
Annabeth merely arched an eyebrow in response. It was quiet between them for a beat or two as he followed the fall of her curls over her shoulder, tracing nonsensical patterns on her skin. Finally, he let out a dramatic huff and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Okay, I might have a few ideas…”
“See!” she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “It’s barely been — what, three hours? — and you already have ideas. One’s probably a big party that’d put Jason’s soiree tonight to shame, isn’t it?”
“You could hardly call tonight a party,” he scoffed, not bothering to deny it. “I’m much better at putting on a show than that asshole.”
“A show is exactly what I don’t want, Jackson.”
“You deserve one.”
Annabeth propped her chin on her hand, unable to help the giddy little grin that pulled at her lips.
There were a lot of things she liked about the son of Neptune, but his earnest insistence on elevating her, of making sure she was well-treated and, above all, respected was her favorite. Another man might’ve tried to diminish her accomplishments and abilities to make himself look better, but Percy had been her champion from the moment she’d disarmed him and clocked him in the jaw in the training arena. He was dangerous to her ego, this man.
“I think I’ve had enough attention in the last month, don’t you?” she said. “Anyway, don’t get ahead of yourself with these ideas of yours. You and I already made extensive plans for that day, remember?”
Confusion flickered in Percy’s face, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to remember what they’d agreed to do together that far in advance. Annabeth had been spending the weekends over at his place, but anything else they did — drinks on Saturday nights, brunch on Sundays, New Rome Direwolvez baseball games with Frank — usually happened by spontaneous suggestion.
Finally, recognition dawned his features and his dark brows shot up into his hairline. “You mean renovations ?”
The devil of New Rome might not have a secret underwater lair, but he did own an old waterfront warehouse that looked plenty shady on the outside. Percy, however, had spent the last several years working on renovations on the inside, building an impressive living space for himself that’d made Annabeth fall a little bit in love with him. By the end of the first weekend they’d slept together, she’d had sketched out half a dozen concepts for the other rooms and the lower levels for him.
Those stupid sketches were half the reason Annabeth had kept sleeping with him. The Monday after that weekend, she’d half-heartedly decided that it was best if she put some distance between them. They’d had their fun and it was time to go their separate ways.
But Percy had persisted, wanting to hire her on to be his architect professionally and having her over to talk about options when she refused on ethical grounds. Once she was there, they’d proceeded to get into an argument about open floor concepts and how he was not going to ruin the gorgeous exposed brick by putting fucking shiplap all over it. That, in turn, led to a very passionate screw against a retaining wall on the second floor which convinced Annabeth that she really had no reason to be avoiding a man who could make her orgasm like that.
She’d agreed to help him renovate the building just for the fun it when her schedule allowed. So far, they hadn’t had much time for it. Her birthday was supposed to be their first real work day together, something she had definitely planned in advance.
“Uh-huh,” Annabeth said. “That sounds like an exciting birthday to me.”
Percy stared at her in disbelief for a long second before he moved. His hands fell to her hips and, in a moment, he had her rolled on to her back, her legs bracketing his waist. Annabeth’s pulse quickened as his half-hard erection brushed against her inner thighs.
“Let me just get this straight.”
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, studying her with eyes as intensely green and inscrutable as the ocean’s depths.
“I could give anything you want. Anything, Annabeth,” he continued, his voice full of dark, rich promise that made her blood sing. It was the voice that belonged to a Titan Killer, to a man who wielded more power than anyone could imagine, who was her equal in more ways than one. “And you… you’d prefer to put up drywall.”
“Yes. That’s what I want.”
She couldn’t tell him that she wanted it because she’d be doing it with him. That she wanted it because she wouldn’t have to share him, because he could keep his guard down and be himself instead of the role New Rome demanded he play. Why would she ever pick a flashy celebration where she’d only get distracted, distanced minutes with him when she could have him to herself for a full day?
If her birthday was an excuse to be selfish, to get what she deserved… then she deserved every inch of Percy Jackson. Just for a day.
“Well,” she hedged, biting her lip as he continued to study her. “Maybe I’ll take some cake, too. A fancy flavor if you can spring for it.”
At that, Percy’s intensity broke and he shook his head, deep chuckle rising from his throat.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, kissing her roughly. “If that’s what you really want… drywall and fancy cake it is.”
“And sex,” she breathed, arching her hips up into his, thrilling in his needy groan. “I won’t say no to some excellent birthday sex, too.”
“Now you’re pushing it, Chase.”
“You did say anything, Jackson,” Annabeth laughed, sinking her hands into Percy’s dark hair and pulling him down into another blistering, burning kiss. “I’m holding you to that.”