Jane opens two pink boxes. “For the meeting, we have croissants, muffins, stuffed donuts, frosted donuts, Danishes, scones, bagels, a few waffles, but do not, under any circumstance, eatthese.” She lifts up a heart-shaped tin. “I spent two hours helping my one and only sister with math homework yesterday, and afterwards, she gave me strict orders to deliver these to Oscar Oliveira. I will complete the task.”
I lean forward and grab the tin out of her hands.
“Farrow!”
“Breathe. I’m not eating Oscar’s cookies.” I pop the tin and inspect the perfectly heart-shaped sugar cookies, pink icing and written withOscarandI love you.
Maximoff grimaces at Jane. “Can your twelve-year-old sister pick someone who’snotthirty-years-old to crush on?”
What about someone five years older?I try really hard not to tease or irritate him.
“You can sheath your swords, Moffy. It’s harmless,” Jane says and eagle-eyes me as I pass the tin to Quinn. He snatches a cookie.
Jane glares and then yanks the entire tin out of his hands. “Quinn.”
I laugh. I like Quinn more and more every day.
Not hesitating, he bites into the cookie. “Oscar is my brother. I should getonecookie out of that. Hey, I’ll be his best man or whatever at their pretend wedding.”
Audrey disinvited me to that “wedding” three years ago after I told her she has bad taste in men.
Jane lowers on her beanbag and protectively clutches the tin to her lap. I’ve noticed the bag of peas she’s been carryingaround all morning andsittingon, and my intrigue is spilling into concern.
I have to ask now.
“Did I miss Nate coming over last night?” I motion with my coffee to the peas that she’s using as an ice pack.
Jane looks genuinely surprised that I’m asking. She searches my gaze with intense curiosity. Wonderingwhy—why did I ask.
Because you mean something to Maximoff.
And you’re starting to mean something to me.
Maximoff’s cheekbones sharpen, but he keeps his attention on the TV, not worried. I assume she must’ve told him the news this morning in the bathroom.
Quinn frowns at Jane. “Did Nate sneak in? You didn’t tell me he was coming over?—”
“He didn’t,” she says quickly.
“A new guy?” Quinn asks. “Then I should’ve been there. With an NDA.”
“Not unless you’d like to try to give my sex toys an NDA.” Jane smiles as realization parts Quinn’s lips.
“Oh.”
I arch my brows at Jane. “Not enough lube there?”
“No.” She sits straighter. It’s her “I’m preparing a speech” posture. “Sex is almost a family legacy. My parents were in porn.”
Maximoff corrects, “Not willingly.” Their tapes were leaked.
“Still,” she says, “I thought perhaps, my real passion is in sex toys. I could’ve been a fabulous sex toy reviewer.”
I rest my arm on my bent knee. “And what happened?”
“I inserted something interriblywrong.”
We all make a pained face.
