For the first time in my life, I, a six-five man who weighs two-twenty and is covered in tattoos, wiggle with excitement. “Tyler said it was okay for me to come.”
“Cameron.” She groans. “You can’t just… you’re being irrational.”
“No, I’m not,” I argue, sounding completely irrational indeed. “He’s a kid. He needs supervision.”
“He’s twenty-two, not two.”
“He doesn’t like chocolate. That’s a red flag. And he already said yes. What time should I be there?”
Kennedy sighs, although the sound is more exasperation than anger. “If he’s fine with it, then you’re more than welcome to join us.”
“He told me?—”
“Right, he toldyou, a veteran on the team, a man he looks up to and is probably petrified to say no to. I’m texting him and asking if he’sactuallyokay with you crashing. If he is, then fine. If you scared him into saying yes, you’re going to gracefully accept that you’re not invited. Deal?”
My jaw tightens. “Kennedy?—”
“Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.” Her voice is firm but not unkind.
“Fine,” I grouse. “But he’s not going to have an issue with it.”
“Then stop pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You’re definitely pouting,” she teases.
Sighing, I lean back into the pillows. “Maybe a little.”
“Acceptance is the first step,” she chirps. “You’re probably exhausted. Get some rest, Sleeping Beauty. Oh, that’s another princess I’ve dressed up as for Halloween. I’ll see you on Friday… maybe.”
“Definitely,” I correct. “Good luck at the tasting. You’re going to crush it, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Cameron.”
“Night, Kennedy.”
I hang up my phone and send Tyler another text.
Cameron Davies
If you tell Kennedy I bullied you, I will actually bully you.
And this time, I’m confirming it’s a threat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
kennedy
I may have never taughta class in my life—because teachers possess this elusive, unicorn trait calledpatience—but I think my setup looks pretty damn good. I’ve made two stations, each with a stand mixer, piping bags, measuring cups, and printed recipe cards in plastic sleeves. There are aprons for each of them, and all that’s left to do now is prep the ingredients.
Cameron arrives thirty minutes early, with his hair still damp from a post-practice shower. “How’d the tasting go? What’d they pick?”
I let out a loud laugh. I’ve come to appreciate his lack of standard greeting. What girl needs ahiorhellowhen she can have a grumpy guy growling questions at her? But really, it’s sweet. He doesn’t want to waste time with pleasantries because he wants to know about my day.
He drops his bag and shucks his coat, watching me with interest.
With a smile, I lean against the counter. “It was great. She chose the champagne cake. How was practice?”
