“Okay, let’s get baking,” Reid says, lifting the tray of coffees he’s carrying over his head. “I had to lie to Mila at the bakery this morning when she asked why I wasn’t dressed to go to the school, so this had better work. I don’t use my flex hours for just any old reason, you know.”
I clap my hand on his shoulder and take a coffee from him gratefully. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate you and Ethan helping, fuck knows I’m not the best baker.”
“Neither are we,” Ethan replies wryly. “Let’s just hope I’ve watched my sister often enough that we can follow a recipe.”
“And you’re sure this is her favourite?” I ask, checking the recipe he emailed me last night to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.
“Yup. German Chocolate Cake is her ultimate favourite. She doesn’t make it for the bakery so that she’s not tempted to eat it all the time, that’s how much she loves it. She says it’s the only thing that’s irresistible for her.”
“Perfect.”
Yeah, right. I spoke too soon. Looking around my kitchen an hour later, and it literally looks as if a grocery store puked up the entire baking aisle across the countertops.
“Umm, so, the caramel layer goes next, then the coconut?” Reid asks, looking at me, confused.
“No, no, no. The coconut goes in the caramel stuff.” Ethan takes over, stirring the bowl in front of Reid. “You start grating the chocolate shavings for the top.”
I’m carefully leveling chocolate cake, only half paying attention to what the guys are saying. Aside from the mess, things have gone surprisingly well. We only burnt one batch of coconut that was toasting in the oven, the cakes turned out perfectly, and that caramel stuff is fucking delicious.
Eventually the cake is done. Leaning slightly to the side, but done. The three of us stand back and examine it critically.
“You didn’t level them.”
“No shit. It was hard,” I reply, shoving Reid with my shoulder. “You had the easy job.”
“Should’ve used a level,” mutters Ethan.
“At least we know it should taste good,” Reid reasons, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah. Hopefully it works.”
Ethan walks over, opens the dishwasher and starts to load it. “It’ll help, but you better be prepared to grovel.”
I join him. “Trust me, I am. As long as the cake softens her up so she’ll listen to me this time.”
I see Ethan wince.
“Yeah, so, about that. Remember I told you when we were working on the café that she’s got reasons for being wary of relationships? Well, I’m guessing her reaction to your fuck up is because of that. It’s not my story to tell, but Mila’s got good reason to be defensive. Just give her the space to figure that out.”
“I can do that.”
I can, and I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.
Standing on her porch, I’m the most nervous I’ve ever been. I’m holding onto the plate carrying the lopsided cake with a death grip, contemplating how to ring the doorbell, when it opens and Mila looks at me, confused.
“Why are you just standing there?” Her eyes drop down, then widen when she sees the cake. “Is that…did you bake?”
I thrust it into her hands. “It’s a German Chocolate Cake. Your favourite.”
She takes it, and when I see a cautious smile cross her face, my shoulders relax.
“You made me a cake.”
“Yeah. Ethan and Reid helped.” My voice is gruff, thick with emotion. I want to touch her so badly. I want her to invite me in and let me fix this. I miss her. I miss us. Mila looks at me for a moment, her eyes studying me. Then they soften, and she steps back to let me in.
“Guess we better try a piece.”
I step inside, and Milo comes ambling up to me, sniffing my legs before nudging and licking my hand. I give him a pet, then follow Mila into the kitchen.
