“Oh… that sucks.” I took a bite of frittata, and I put a hand over my mouth. “Oh, wow,” I said. “My god. Why haven’t I had you cooking for me before?”
She flipped back to normal, grinning wide, dimples popping as she did. “Because, you’ve been huddling up with a gross man in Boston! I wasn’t about to go be a part of that.”
I looked down. “Right…”
“Oh—sorry. Should I not talk about him?”
I sighed, poking at my food. “It’s fine… it just feels weird. I don’t know. Part of me feels like he’s going to come after me, even though I know he won’t.”
She furrowed her brow, leaning forward. “You live here now. If he tried, he’d have to go through me. And all our friends, too!”
I smiled tiredly at her. “Ourfriends, huh? Is this, like, from how many conversations we’ve had about them, now they’re my friends too, by proxy?”
She laughed, relaxing in her seat with her tea held up close to her lips. “You remember me talking about Nayla and Linda and Charlie, right? They’re all going to be there tonight too.”
“Oh, wow,” I laughed. “It’s like I’m meeting the cast behind my favorite TV series. What about Candle Girl? Is she showing up?”
“Ah,” she said, scratching the back of her head. “No, she’s… uh… Candle Girl’s got better stuff to do. But you’ll meet all the rest of our friends there, too.”
Oh, god, that was a sensitive spot I’d just poked. I guess I should have figured there was a reason she hadn’t mentioned Candle Girl for a minute now. She’d been crushing hard on a girl who—well, surprise surprise, made candles, and I’d been cheering her on from afar to go get it with Candle Girl.
Then things had been going thermonuclear enough in my home that I hadn’t even registered she’d stopped talking about the sexy candlemaker.
“I’m looking forward to meeting everyone,” I said, eager to change the subject. “You know, I, uh… I really don’t know what to say.”
She waved me off. “You don’t need to say a word! I’m just glad you’re getting a place to rest,andI finally get to see you. I don’t know how long you’re going to stay in Paxton Ridge, but we’re going to make sure you never forget it. Hopefully we make enough of an impression that you keep coming back even after you’ve moved on and cruelly left us all behind because you don’t love us enough.”
I stuck my tongue out. “You’re even more of a bully in person than you are online. I didn’t think it was possible.”
“We’ll make sure you get to see all the best attractions. And the hiking! The hiking is so good this time of year. And you’dbetterstill be here for Pride. You can’t miss it.”
“I’ve heard that, yeah.”
“And the Birdhouse, obviously! But you’re going to meet it tonight.”
I cocked my head. “We’re not having the party here?”
“And let Kaitlyn trash my house? Ugh, no. We’re going to the Birdhouse. C’mon, let’s take a selfie together, we’ll show off to everyone that you’re here.”
“And that I lookdead on my feet,” I teased as she took her phone out, and she winked at me.
“They’ll understand. And we want to brace them for how zombified you look when you show up, so there’s no screams when you do.”
“Okay, first of all, you jerk,” I laughed, and she posed next to me for a picture, throwing a peace sign. I matched it as best I could, but when she showed me the picture, it was obvious which one of us had more enthusiasm at the moment.
“Abby gave us a fire react already,” Daniela said, tapping at her phone while I drank my tea. “And Drew said he can’t waitto see us.” She paused. “Abby says you’re cute, but she hits on everyone. Do not take it seriously.”
“Ha… I think I have heard that about her,” I said awkwardly, scratching my head. “Colorful cast you’ve got here, huh?”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” She beamed at me, eyes sparkling, just staring at me for a minute, before she came around the table to hug me again, squeezing me tightly. “God, it’s so cool to have you here.”
“It’s so cool to see you,” I echoed, hugging her back just as tightly. “I’m glad I didn’t hit a tree.”
“Yeah. God,” she laughed. “Can you imagine? I’ll drive you to the Birdhouse. We’ll figure out your car in the morning. In the meantime, eat, eat. My culinary genius can’t be wasted on letting the food go cold, Alyssa Taylor.”
“Okay, Daniela Holman, weird that we’re full-naming each other, but whatever makes you feel glorious,” I laughed, but I took another bite of food, and I had to admit, her culinary geniuswaspretty glorious. I was really spoiled.
Chapter 3
