The words hung between them, crisp and cold. Ryan had been there beside her at Derek’s funeral. He’d always been there for her. But he didn’t want to bewithher. And it hurt even more than she’d feared.
His eyes shone with regret. “And I can never get his okay on this.”
* * *
Emma woke up the next morning to the ding of an incoming text message, followed by another, and another. Her head ached, andugh, her pride stung even worse. She pressed a hand over her eyes with a groan. A heavy weight plopped onto her chest, knocking the breath from her lungs.
“Meow.”
Emma peeked through her fingers at the gray cat perched on top of her, regarding her from wide blue eyes. “Morning, Smokey.”
She shifted the cat to the side so that she could grab her cell phone off the nightstand. The screen showed five new text messages, all from her friends.
Rumor has it you did indeed catch a ride on Ryan’s bike, Gabby said.
Details. We need details!from Mandy.
I’ve got fresh cinnamon buns. Come and get ’em, and let’s gossip, from Carly, who owned A Piece of Cake bakery and made the best cinnamon buns Emma had ever tasted.
I’m in, Gabby texted.
Be there in thirty. Emma, wake up!from Mandy.
I’ll be there, she texted.But the details are less exciting than you’re imagining. I’m going to need extra frosting, Carly.
Then she rolled out of bed. Smokey meowed again as she hopped victoriously onto Emma’s pillow and sat, lifting a paw to wash her face.
“You are such a diva,” Emma muttered as she headed for the bathroom. She stepped into the shower, submersing herself in the hot spray. Forty-five minutes later, she walked through the doors of A Piece of Cake, finding her friends already gathered at the counter, drinking coffee and munching on cinnamon buns.
She scowled. “You could have at least waited for me.”
“You’re late. Long night?” Mandy gave her an assessing look, one eyebrow raised.
“More like too much beer.” She rubbed her forehead as she sat on an empty stool. “What happened with you and Carl?”
“Eh, he turned out to be a dud,” Mandy said with a shrug. “But we want to hear all about your night with Ryan.”
“Extra frosting,” Carly said, passing a plate across the counter with a cinnamon bun dripping with gooey white goodness. She set a steaming cup of coffee beside it.
“You’re the best.” Emma inhaled the rich aroma of cinnamon and French roast, feeling her system starting to perk up already.
“So?” Gabby asked. “What happened?”
Emma held up a finger. She took a big, fortifying sip of her coffee and popped a forkful of sinfully delicious cinnamon bun into her mouth. Once the sugar and caffeine had taken effect, she turned to her friends. “Ryan gave me a ride home on his bike.”
“And?” Carly asked.
“Was it amazing? I’ve always wanted to ride on a motorcycle,” Gabby said.
“It was great.” A shiver of excitement snaked down her spine as she remembered the feel of the bike beneath her, the wind in her hair, the moon illuminating them like a scene out of a movie.
“Just great?” Mandy gave her a look that said,We want more.
“It was fantastic. Is that better?” Emma shook her head. “You guys really pushed me last night, and you know what? I loved it. I had so much fun hanging out at the bar, and riding home on Ryan’s bike was the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
“So why the extra scoop of frosting?” Carly asked, leaning her elbows on the counter.
“Because between the dare, the beer, and the motorcycle ride, I completely lost my mind, and I kissed him. Or Itriedto kiss him.” She pressed a hand over her eyes as her friends squealed in surprise.
