Grayson’s jaw clenches and he reaches his hand out toward me like he wants to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but then he freezes. He’s so close that I can feel the heat of his fingers against my skin, but he doesn’t touch me. I’m actually kind of grateful for that, because if he did, there was no way I’d be able to hold back these damn tears.
“Let me drive you and George home,” he offers, dropping his hand. “It’s the least I can do. I want to make sure both of you get home safely.”
“No!” I say a little too loudly. “I mean, thanks, but no.”
Grip tight on George’s leash, I step away from Grayson. The last thing I want is to sit down in that car with him, not because I want this date to end, but because I don’t want his final memory to be of me hunched in that seat with my face buried in George’s neck and tears smearing my makeup down my cheeks.
“Sutton and Liv will come to get me,” I add softly.
Before he can insist, I pull my phone out of my purse and shoot a short, simple message to the private group chat already set up between my besties and me. It’s a single word—911. A split second later, my phone is flooded with responses from Sutton and Liv, as well as confirmation that they’re already jumping in the car to come rescue me.
I lift my head, forcing a smile, but Grayson doesn’t mirror the expression.
“You don’t have to do that, Kali,” he says quietly, sadly. “You don’t always have to smile even when you don’t want to.”
I don’t say anything.
I can’t.
Because if I do, I’ll start crying for sure.
And once a single tear falls, more will follow, and they won’t stop.
All I can do is stand there and watch the man of my dreams get in his car and drive away.
CHAPTER NINE
The beaters from the handheld mixer clatter hard against the side of the mixing bowl as I fervently whip up extra chocolatey, extra gooey, edible brownie batter.
On the other side of the kitchen island, I see Sutton and Liv share a worried look. They know I only break out this particular recipe when I’m desperately trying to ease my internal pain with comfort food. I haven’t made these brownies in a few years, back when we were really starting to become popular and our YouTube channel got hit with a slew of copyright strikes from another jealous creator and we almost got completely shut down. Thankfully, we were able to make a case for ourselves and prevent a total wipeout, but it had looked pretty dire at the time.
I sniffle hard, glad that I have the edible brownie recipe memorized because I wouldn’t be able to read it through the tears that keep welling in my eyes. I reach up with my free hand to wipe the wetness off my cheeks.
We’d been home less than an hour since Sutton and Liv came and got George and me from Franco’s Burgers. The moment we got home, I took off my duster cardigan and tossed it on the back of the sectional couch in the living room, then marched straight into the kitchen to start baking, not even bothering to change out of my blouse and Daisy Dukes.
Since I can remember, baking has been my favorite form of therapy. Bouncing from foster home to foster home, I had to learn how to feed myself most of the time and while I enjoy cooking, baking came more naturally to me. Right now, it’s the only thing stopping me from completely breaking down and losing it.
George, Coco, and Chanel seem to sense the dismal mood in the house because they are nowhere to be seen. Chanel is most likely back in her oversized hutch, while George is almost certainly curled up in my bed, and even attention-seeking Coco is out of sight. Sutton and Liv have been bravely perched on the barstools at the island the whole time, but they haven’t been able to get much out of me yet. Not for lack of trying, though.
“So, I guess the date didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?” Sutton finally asks bluntly.
She yelps suddenly, wincing and grabbing her side, and I realize Liv must’ve elbowed her.
“What?” she demands, glaring at Liv. “Kali is going to have to tell us the details at some point. She didn’t say a word the whole drive home.”
“No, it did not go as well as I hoped,” I mutter sharply.
Sutton sits up straighter and squares her shoulders, looking like she wants to say something that’s undoubtedly along the lines ofI told you so!but one warning look from Liv reminds her not to rub my pain in my face.
I slam the mixing bowl down and grab two huge fistfuls of chocolate chips to add to the brownie, butter, and heavy cream mixture, then use a big spoon to stir them in. The chocolatey dough glistens in the overhead lights invitingly. I bet even celebrity chef, Paul Hollywood, would go crazy for these edible brownies. Makeup might be my profession, and art my passion, but baking has always been my refuge.
When I sniffle again, Liv slides from her stool and comes around to my side of the island.
The kitchen still bears some remnants of our party the other night when we were celebrating our big Instagram milestone. We’d rinsed the now-empty bottle of expensive champagne and saved it as a memento and we still have a few leftover baked goodies. Looking at them now makes my heart ache because it reminds me of the day I met Grayson. It’d felt like such a sweet twist of fate to run into him at the library, but now I know it simply isn’t meant to be. It was nothing but a fantasy and now harsh reality is settling in once again.
“Kali…” Liv sighs, fumbling for words that she can’t seem to find.
Eventually, her arms circle my waist and she leans into me so that she can rest her head on my shoulder. I bite my lip hard, trying to keep what little is left of my composure, but when Sutton comes around the island and joins us, wrapping her arms around me, too, it’s more than I can take.
