I glared at her. “Don’t start.”
Elle hadn’t fully recovered from the accident, but this seemed to be her new normal. Gone were the days of her long, luxurious hairdresser hair and obsession with high heels. Now, she wore her blonde waves clipped in an adorable pixie cut and mostly wore athleisure-wear. She juiced her veggies and lived at the gym. When she wasn’t working out, she was training someone else.
Her body was in the best shape of her life, but it got annoying at times. Some days I missed my friend who would kill a log of raw cookie dough with me simply because it was period week. Now, she wouldn’t even touch that processed shit and our cycles weren’t synching anymore.
“I’m just saying, adding a little more activity to your day would bring down your cortisol levels. Going to the gym could help you unwind so you aren’t constantly rushing to the bathroom whenever there’s a big decision to be made.”
I leveled her with a hard stare. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m dead serious.”
I looked over her shoulder at the display of pastries and counted to ten. “Exercising is your journey, not mine, Elle. I’m never going to be a gym person.”
The old Elle would remember that. Hell, she’d even be on my side. But this new Elle-two-point-oh was training to be a physical therapist and interested in things we never cared about before.
“Ray, you’re going to have to wear a wedding gown eventually.”
My macchiato turned to sludge on my tongue. She did not just insinuate that I had to lose wedding weight. I had two choices. I could either vomit from the added pressure my maid of honor just threw on me, or… I stood. “I’m going to get a cupcake.”
I left her in the booth with her lame, green protein shake that probably tasted like grass and bird shit.
By the time I returned with my cupcake, I had calmed down. Sometimes I needed to remind myself that Elle had literal brain damage and was missing a lot of our childhood memories. Her recovery had been a lonely journey for me, but I did my best to support her in any way I could. Like now, as I shoved a cupcake in my mouth so not to tell her what I really thought about her hurtful comment.
I slid her the other half. I knew she wouldn’t touch it, but it was a piece offering all the same.
“No thanks. If you knew what was in there?—”
“Sometimes you eat muffins.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Yes, it is. A cupcake’s just a flamboyant muffin. It won’t kill you to have a bite.”
“No thanks. If I’m going to have carbs, I’m going to get them from a real bakery, not a commercial coffee shop. Have you seen the bread they’re serving? It looks harder than my childhood.”
I snorted at her joke, glad she at least recovered those memories. “Facts.”
Elle’s childhood had been normal until her parents died. Then her brother became a junkie and a thief. If not for Hale, Chris would still be squatting in Elle’s house. Lucky for her, Hale knew how to handle sticky situations.
He bought Chris out and made sure he evacuated the premises before the check cleared. Then he sent a construction crew to Elle’s and completely flipped the house. By the time he was finished with the remodel, it was unrecognizable. All new appliances, beautiful hardwood floors, and fancy fixtures. He sold it for four times what he paid Chris and cut Elle a hefty sum in the end.
That was Hale, always the hero in a pinch.
Suffice it to say that after that Elle was Team Hale. She was also Team Barrett. She’d been banging Hale’s brother since we all moved to Florida long-term. It was safe to say she liked the Davenports, which was good because I loved them.
“How’s the bungalow coming along?” Elle had used some of the money Hale made her to buy a small house.
“It’s great. I bought some new furniture but I haven’t put it together yet.” She grimaced. “The directions are complicated.”
Since the accident, anything that required written instructions confused Elle. “Why don’t you ask Barrett to do it?”
She shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”
Her stubborn independence struck me as odd. She never used to hesitate when it came to asking Barrett for help. “You guys okay?”
“Yup.”
Her answer seemed too quick and short. “Are you mad that I won’t go to the gym? Please don’t take it personally, Elle. I tried. Remember when I took that Yoga class?”