Something about Alex feels different now. The tension that used to live between his shoulders is gone, like telling the truth about who he is has allowed him to breathe again.
We leave just after my shift ends on Friday afternoon, my overnight bag tossed in the back of my car.
The highway stretches ahead of us, the city lights fading in the rearview mirror as Alex merges onto the interstate toward LA. I smile softly to myself, grateful that he insisted on driving. I get to be a passenger princess for once.
His hand finds mine on the center console.
Whatever happens in the tent this weekend, we’re walking back into it together.
The semifinal is waiting.
And I’ve never felt more ready.
CHAPTER 23: ALEX
Taylor’s mascara runs in thin black streaks down her cheeks as she hugs her best friend in the house goodbye.
Pastry week was rough on all of us. While we’ve tackled pastry techniques earlier in the season, the Southern California heat made this week’s challenges damn near impossible.
“Take care of our girl,” RaeAnn whispers through tears when she pulls me into a hug next.
I wrap my arms around her shoulders and give her a quick squeeze. “Always.”
Her laugh is wet and she swipes under her eyes before grabbing her bag. Taylor pulls RaeAnn into another hug, holding onto her for a second longer before letting go. Her shoulders slump like something inside her just gave way.
Watching RaeAnn walk out of the tent feels strange. Every week someone leaves, but this one hurts so much worse than the others. The house will feel emptier without her.
Taylor wipes at her cheeks again as she turns back toward the workstations. Her best attempt at composing herself.
Without thinking, I reach for her hand.
Her fingers slip into mine automatically, like they’ve been doing it for years instead of a handful of weeks. I squeeze once, grounding us both.
Swirling gold and green eyes crash into mine, and I offer a small smile, a soft place for my girl to land.
All I feel is relief.
I’m not happy RaeAnn had to go, but Taylor is still here. And that’s what matters most to me right now. I don’t want to imagine being here without her.
One more week and we’re in the finale.
I’ll spend that entire week fighting the urge to throw it and hand Taylor the win. She needs this more than anyone here. And every part of me would give it to her without hesitation.
The thought settles heavy in my chest as the crew resets the tent. Our hosts chatter quietly near the judges’ table. Cameras move. Producers whisper. The familiar chaos of filming resumes as they pull Diane and Brandon for interviews.
Taylor sniffles quietly, eyes still red but she’s breathing steadier now. Her thumb brushes over the back of my hand where our fingers are still laced together.
“It’s just weird,” she says. “Every week, the tent gets smaller. And I know I need to just be grateful that I’m still here, but I hate seeing everyone go.”
I follow her gaze to the empty station RaeAnn stood behind just minutes ago. She’s right. There are only four benches left now. Four bakers and one more elimination before the finale.
The semifinal is waiting for us and my only thoughts are about surviving the next two weeks without doing something reckless for the girl standing next to me.
Because if I’m not careful, Iwillbreak.
And the closer we get to the finale, the harder it’s going to be to ignore my instincts and hand Taylor the win, even though she wants to earn it for herself.
The drive back to Cambria is quiet.
