As the conversation shifts to safer topics—how terribly Tyler’s fantasy football team is doing and Jake’s upcoming trip to Colorado—some of the tension leaves my shoulders. Tyler’s revelation about Gigi bothers me less than I thought it would because, for the first time in years, I’m not hung up on figuring out what someone else wants me to be.
I’m just trying to figure out what I want.
And increasingly, the answer involves a girl with a genuine smile and zero interest in turning me into a man I’m not.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
kennedy
Patience isn’tmy strong suit. Staring down my oven won’t make a cake bake any faster (weird, I know) and sending a string of emojis won’t make Cameron answer my texts any sooner. That doesn’t stop me from trying, though.
I can usually tell which flavors a couple will want to taste based on their intake form, but for the Anderson-Chen wedding, I’m second-guessing everything and need a second, and third, opinion.
Apparently, those opinions eat at the speed of sloths.
“Well? What do you think?” I press, fingers drumming against the counter.
“I haven’t even swallowed yet,” Maya mumbles, holding a hand in front of her mouth. “Chill.”
With ahmph, I turn my attention to Sophie. “Soph? Verdict?”
“It’s good,” she says, nodding slowly as she chews.
“But?” I prompt. I can hear it in her voice.
“No but. It’s perfect.” She licks her fork clean. “Lemon lavender, right?”
“Yep.”
I should have labeled the cake samples, but my friends showed up before I had a chance.
Maya finally swallows and announces, “That’s the winner.”
“You’ve only tried three flavors. You have seven to go,” I reminder her. “And you’re going to have some thoughts on the next one. It’s a champagne cake with raspberry filling and vanilla Swiss meringue buttercream.”
Maya holds out her arms and mimics a grabbing motion. “You’re both going to the game on Thursday, right? Elliott’s company has a suite, and he has extra tickets, so we can sit there if we want.”
“I can’t,” Sophie says. “I scored a ticket to an art exhibit I’ve been dying to see, and it closes next week.”
“Does the exhibit have a name?” I ask with a straight face.
Maya smiles knowingly. “It can’t beatThings I Found in My Grandmother’s Attic (Reimagined).That really changed my worldview.”
“Oh, that was profound,” I agree, matching her serious tone. “Though personally, I’m still recovering fromThe Audacity of Beige. Really made me question the nature of empty spaces.”
“You two are children,” Sophie says, but she’s fighting a smile.
“What’s it actually called?” Maya leans forward with genuine curiosity.
Sophie looks back and forth between us and mumbles, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.
“What was that?” I cup my ear and crane my neck.
“Fractured Permanence,” she repeats, louder this time, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Maya and I lock eyes for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“I hate you both,” our poor friend grumbles, crossing her arms even as her lips twitch. “And I am never bringing you along to another show or exhibit again.”
