Page 13 of Frosted Fakes

She locked up the shop and climbed the stairs to the flat, every muscle aching. The couch she'd been sleeping on wasn't comfortable to begin with, and adding a full day of catastrophic baking hadn't helped.

Elliott was nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the best. Julia collapsed onto the couch, pulled out her phone, and opened YouTube.

The nursing education channel was waiting for her like an old friend. She clicked on a video about emergency trauma procedures and felt her whole body relax as the presenter began explaining the primary survey assessment.

"ABCDE," she murmured along with the video. "Airway, breathing, circulation, disability, exposure."

This. This was what she was supposed to be doing. Not burning pastries and dealing with passive-aggressive rival bakers. She was supposed to be helping people, saving lives, doing something that actually mattered.

"What are you watching?"

Julia nearly dropped her phone. Elliott was standing in the kitchen doorway, a mug of tea in her hands, watching Julia with an unreadable expression.

"Nothing." Julia fumbled to pause the video. "Just… relaxing."

Elliott raised an eyebrow. "You relax by watching videos about trauma assessment?"

"It's… educational."

"It's weird." But there was something almost curious in Elliott's voice, underneath the judgment. "Most people watch cat videos. Or cooking shows. You watch emergency medical procedures."

Julia shrugged, face heating. "It helps me calm down. I know that's strange."

"I didn't say strange. I said weird. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

Elliott took a sip of her tea, still watching Julia over the rim of the mug. "Strange implies you're unusual in a concerning way. Weird just means you're different. Different isn't always bad."

It was, Julia realized, probably the nicest thing Elliott had said to her since they'd met.

"Thank you?" she offered uncertainly.

Elliott just shrugged and turned back toward her room. At the door, she paused. "Congratulations on not burning the shop down on your first day, by the way. I'm impressed."

Julia felt a warm glow spread through her chest. "Really?"

"Mmm." Elliott disappeared into her room.

Julia smiled to herself, tucking that small bit of praise away like something precious. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe Elliott wasn't as prickly as she seemed. Maybe they could even become—

"I set the bar extremely low," Elliott's voice drifted through the closed door. "Don't let it go to your head."

Oh. Right. Sarcasm.

Julia's smile faded slightly, but didn't disappear entirely.

She just knew there was more to Elliott than grumpiness and firmly muscled arms with tattoos. Not that she was paying that much attention.

She did wonder what had turned her into someone who kept everyone at arm's length and pretended she didn't care about anything.

Whatever it was, Julia found herself wanting to know.

Which was probably a terrible idea. But then, Julia had never been very good at avoiding terrible ideas. Case in point: her new bakery.

Chapter Six

The fire alarm went off for the third time in two hours, and Elliott seriously considered murder.