She sighed dramatically, then finally dropped her fillet into the egg wash. But when she pulled it out, she forgot to let the excess drip off. By the time she tossed it into the coconut mixture, the crumbs turned into a sticky, glue-like mess.
“I can’t believe that between the two of us, you’re the better cook,” she said as she tried to repair the fish.
“Well”—I dropped my fish into the hot pan—“the bar is pretty low in this instance, but I do have some cooking experience. I used to do a lot of the cooking for me and Daphne.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “After Mom died, I tried to recreate her signature lasagna and nearly set the house on fire. I figured I should learn the basics, at least. We probably rotated between the same seven meals, but at least I mastered those.”
Macey chewed her bottom lip and started to fry her fish. “That’s sweet. What was your favorite thing to cook?”
“Grilled cheese, definitely. I—”I’ll make it for you sometime, was what I wanted to say. Instead, what came out was, “I’m a fan of cheese.”
“Me too,” she said. “My roommate, Kira, is a better cook than me. She bakes a lot, so every weekend I get to indulge in all the chocolate I want.”
“Sounds like a dream.” Using the tongs, I flipped the fish. “Who’s Britney, then?”
Macey squinted and looked at me. “Huh?”
“Earlier, you saidBritney’s going to kill me.”
“Oh, right. Britney is one of my best friends, too. She’s a barista in The Burrow Café, which is in the same building as my office, but she’s also in law school. And then there’s Ariadne. She’s a computer genius and one of the most selfless people you’ll ever meet.”
A tiny pang of jealousy hit me. Not about any of those girls specifically but because I didn’t have a group like that. It wasn’t until recently that I realized I lacked a steady, stable crew of people to rely on. It’d just been me, Daphne, and occasionally Nathan for so long.
“They sound like great friends.”
We finished preparing the rest of the meal, and to my surprise, it turned out half decent. Flavor, texture, all there. Luca gave us all a few minutes to sit and eat.
I took a break after inhaling my fish, leaning back in my chair with a satisfied sigh. What started off as a tense cooking experience had somehow morphed into a good time. Macey had a way of doing that—making things better, even when they didn’t seem like they could be.
“I forgive you, you know.”
The fork paused halfway to her lips. “You do?”
“What you said…it’s true. I’ve separated myself so much from other people that I do forget how they feel.” I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “I didn’t realize not responding to your messages last year would be so hurtful. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by DMs and stop responding. Not that it’s an excuse. Is that why you hated me for so long?”
Macey twirled her fork against her plate, her gaze dropping for a moment. “It’s one reason. You exemplified the things I hate about influencer culture: free press for little work, ignoring writers and bloggers who work hard, and just generally belittling others.” She sighed. “But now I realize I was wrong about some of that.”
“I’m sorry for my past actions. I never intended to hurt or offend you.”
She studied me for a second before setting her fork down. “You don’t have to apologize.”
I exhaled, mustering a little courage. “Maybe I can buy you dinner tonight to make up for it.”
“Noah, we’re at an all-inclusive resort.”
“Right.” I dragged a hand down my face, feeling like an idiot. “Maybe a walk on the beach instead.”
Her lips quirked. “That would be nice.”
14
MACEY
I curled my toes into the damp sand with each step, my sandals swinging from my fingertips. It was hard to believe we were already closing in on the end of our last full day in Aruba. This was a grounding moment, though, just the sound of the waves, the soft give of the earth beneath me, and Noah.
Strokes of gold and pink painted the sky, the last traces of daylight melting into the horizon. The waves lapped at the shore, their foamy edges catching the sunset’s glow before retreating back into the endless blue.
