I rub my arms and walk to the window, pulling back the drape so I can stare at the snowy landscape in the dark night. “But she knows you aren’t dating, right? That you’re only friends?”
“She knows, but I think she’s in denial—like if we keep pretending around you, then maybe one day, it will be real.”
“What are you going to do?”
He shrugs, helpless. “If I tell her now, it will destroy her. You have no idea how much this competition means to her, Harper. I can’t do that to her while you guys are competing.”
“You’re going to keep playing the game? Even though I know?”
“I don’t know what to do.” Brandon steps forward, his eyes searching mine. “What should I do?”
It’s not an idle question—he really wants an answer.
I shake my head and look back at the window. “Our timing is always wrong, isn’t it?”
“Harper—”
I turn back. “Let’s just…not dothis. Right now. All right?”
“I have waited for you for years, and we’re finally in the same place. I don’t want to walk away.”
His words sound incredibly sincere, so sweet. So what if our first kiss was a little bit of a letdown? We should give this achance. But Brandon’s right—if we were to get together right now, it would devastate Sadie, and we’d lose the competition. And it just seems wrong to take that from her too.
And let’s be honest; I’m not completely selfless. I want to win the bake-off.
“I won’t go behind her back, Brandon. It’s not right.”
He nods. “I know.”
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “I have to go. I was supposed to meet Mason fifteen minutes ago.”
Brandon looks taken aback. “You’re still going to see him tonight?”
I give him a wry look.
“Fine,” he says, shaking his head.
“We’re just friends,” I assure him, though that feels like a little white lie. I’m not sure Mason wants to be friends with me any more than Sadie wants to be friends with Brandon.
CHAPTER TEN
Our interviewer isthe Australian man who practically knocked me over to get a good shot yesterday. We’re in a separate room, a workers’ lounge of some sort, and he said he wanted to interview Sadie and me together this time.
In just a few hours, we’ll see if we’re moving on or going home. Sadie’s anxious. She agonized over the judges’ critiques all morning, and I doubt she got a bit of sleep last night.
I know I didn’t, but I wasn’t worried about the show.
A girl named Sheila and her partner Clary dropped an entire batch of cookies on the floor, and then they were so flustered, they ended up overcooking the batch after that. They only had two types to present to the judges, and one had black edges. I wish them the best, but let’s be honest. They’re going home.
“Your hair is adorable today,” one of the hair and makeup girls says to me as she gives me a quick once-over.
“Thanks.” I touch it, self-conscious.
Lauren texted at six this morning, demanding Sadie and I coordinate both our hair and outfits. She swore it would look cute on television, and since the viewers are part of our score, we need to put our best foot forward. So now we’re both in whiteshort-sleeved shirts, and our hair is up in elaborate messy buns, adorned with sprigs of holly berries.
We look like the best of friends, and I feel like a pond-sludge-dwelling toad.
If Sadie knew I kissed Brandon…
