Page 68 of Offside Rules

Chapter Twelve

Wolf

"Please don’t touch those."

I stop in the kitchen doorway, my hand nowhere near a cupcake. Baylor has a piping bag in one hand, her phone beside an open notebook, and enough cupcakes on the island to feed most of my building. It’s ten on Saturday morning. I got home at three, slept until nine, and woke up to the mixer running.

"I was going for coffee."

She looks at my empty hands, then closes her eyes for a second, and rubs her forehead. "Sorry. I’ve had about three hours of sleep, and I’ve been painting tiny engagement rings since before sunrise. I think the glitter fumes are getting to me."

"Glitter?"

"Edible. But if I start coughing sparkles, you’ll know why."

I look at the tray beside her. Rows of little decorations sit on parchment, some shaped like rings, others stamped with a date and painted gold.

"You made all those?"

"Two hundred. Hand-cut and painted." She sets the piping bag upright in a mug, then stretches her fingers out. Her hands must be screaming at her to take a break. "My hands might never open properly again."

"Didn’t you say simple decorations?"

"They were simple when I agreed to them. Then Megan's friend sent me a picture, and apparently I lost the ability to say no." She picks up her coffee, takes a sip, and makes a face. "There’s fresh coffee in the pot. Use a mug from the cupboard. I need the ones on the drying mat."

I glance over at four mugs currently holding up piping bags, and a couple others that look like mixed food coloring are inside

I get a mug and look around while I fill it. Three mixing bowls sit beside the sink, boxes are stacked on my chair, and a handwritten page near the fridge says SATURDAY in letters big enough to read from the doorway.

When her message came through yesterday, I was getting ready for the game. Two hundred people. Tomorrow. I’d read it twice before texting Olsen and Hunter. Between them, Ellie, Peyton, Natalia, and Cammy, we have enough people coming at four to help decorate and pack.

I haven’t told Baylor yet because I knew she'll tell me not to. She thinks she has to do everything on her own, but she doesn’t. She’s already arranging cupcakes on another tray, and I’d rather let her finish than have her stop to explain why nobody needs to give up their Saturday.

"And those?" I ask, nodding toward the boxes by the door.

"Birthday pickup. Finished, thankfully." She checks the clock. "The engagement party order leaves at six. Three hundred cupcakes, three flavors, and two hundred decorations because apparently I thought some of the cupcakes should feel left out."

"Have you eaten?"