My imagination is running wild with the outcome of Honey Cakes. We’ve decided on powder blue for the booth color, paired with white bistro tables and chairs.
The walls will be decorated with gold, vintage frames in all shapes and sizes, while pendant lights hang along the ceiling. While I was searching for interior design inspiration, I came across an idea to put faux green vines with peonies placed sporadically down the center of the ceiling.
It’s been two hours since we started to paint, and we still have the other half to finish. The music playing from the Bluetooth speaker keeps us company.
“My biceps will be huge after we’re done with this. I’ll get to pick up Rowan and throw him on the bed.”
“That would be hot,” I say.
Ellie looks at my part of the wall. “How are your strokes smoother than mine?”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Ellie snorts. “That was good.” She pulls her phone out from her overalls pocket. “Rowan and August should be here by now.”
I stop what I’m doing and turn to her. “I didn’t know they were coming.”
“I sent an SOS text half an hour ago. We need help, and everyone else is busy except those two.”
A flutter in my chest surprises me. It’ll just be me, Ellie, Rowan, and—August.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool.
Ellie glances above us. “I mean, we can’t even reach the highest spots on the wall, even with a ladder.”
“I’m pretty sure I can reach the ceiling on a ladder, considering I’m five-eight.”
Ellie stares at me. “You hate heights.”
She’s right. I do.
“Help has arrived,” Rowan sings as he pushes the doors open.
“And even better help has arrived,” August chimes.
Rowan stops and turns to August, pointing up. “I have two inches on you, dude. You can’t reach those walls.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Rowan folds his arms across his chest. “We can make it one.”
“Great,” Ellie says. “They’re arguing over walls. Is this what our adult life has come to? Arguing who can paint better?”
“It’s a pissing contest,” I whisper.
“I don’t want to think about my brother pissing.”
A quiet chuckle comes out from me. Rowan gives Ellie a kiss on her temple before she tilts her head back and looks at him.
“Hi,” Ellie says.
His lips curve into a smile, and he kisses her on the lips. It’s now going past five seconds, and they aren’t breaking away.
I love those two to death, and they’re the cutest couple on earth, which is why I hate to admit that sometimes the PDA can become a little too much. I know. I’m bitter about it, but I would never, ever, tell Ellie and Rowan to stop showing off their love. They’ve been to hell and back.
The mere thought of being with someone, just to disappoint them with my fears of commitment, is something I don’t want to put anyone through. I have way too much baggage for someone to handle.
The idea of them having to deal with Mom is scary enough.
