Page 6 of Revenge Cake

Lani narrows her eyes. “Things are rarely all in a person’s head. I’m sure you gave her some reason to be jealous.”

I sigh heavily. “There was one night after we came home from a party and Brittani passed out early. Her friend and I weren’t tired, so we stayed up watching The Office together. We were laughing. Brittani woke up and heard us. That was it. That’s the extent of my ‘cheating’ with best friend Olivia.”

Lani nods slowly, but she still seems a little skeptical. She looks like she’s about to respond when, to my immense aggravation, Mia interrupts again. “Okay, why don’t we change the subject, Lani? This is really awkward making Logan talk about all of this personal stuff in front of us.”

“I’m fine,” I say, but Mia isn’t swayed.

“No,” she says knowingly, as if certain I was only being polite. “Lani will interrogate you for hours if you let her. She loves this kind of stuff.”

Please interrogate me, I want to say. Take me to your bedroom and interrogate me. But I can see from Lani’s body language that she’s done too. She seems to have withdrawn into herself. Irrationally, I hate Mia for it.

Lani starts talking to one of her roommates. Since I’m out of earshot, I can’t jump in to keep my conversation with her going. I glance back at Mia to see eager blue eyes fixed on my face. I should be relieved that I still seem to hold her interest after the less-than-flattering information I just shared, and yet I can’t help but be annoyed. If Mia stakes her claim on me, will that drive Lani away? Armaan wouldn’t hesitate to steal a girl I liked first, but girls tend to be more sensitive about this kind of thing.

As we make polite conversation—discussing the typical stuff like our majors and where we grew up—I make a conscious effort not to seem too enthusiastic, inwardly vowing to make my interest in Leilani apparent before the night is up.

Our conversation is interrupted when Brenna calls me into the kitchen to look at the cake. I had forgotten about it, and that it was she and Lani who made it for me. My stomach flips at the thought. It makes me wonder if Leilani, like Mia, was interested in me before we even met tonight.

When I walk into the kitchen, everyone else follows. Brenna gestures to the cake on the wooden table. It’s a fancy cake, like something you’d see in a bakery—tall with white frosting and curling calligraphy letters at the top. I’m warmed by the image of Lani making this just for me.

“Armaan told us we spelled ‘Brittani’ wrong,” Brenna says.

I nod. “She spells it with an ‘i’ instead of a ‘y.’ I don’t care, but Brittani would definitely make you fix it if she were here.” I can’t fight the cynical smile rising to my lips.

“Would she really?” She turns around and frowns at the cake. “What a cunt,” she mumbles.

Lani rushes over to the cake. My eyes are drawn to her brown legs, surprisingly long for her petite stature. They look soft too. I can already imagine what they’d feel like wrapped around my waist…

“No, she’s not.” Lani’s voice drives my eyes to her face. Good timing too. I don’t want to get too carried away when the night has barely started. “If it’s something she would care about, we need to fix it.” After lifting a serving knife from the table, Lani scrapes off the frosting “y.” She walks over to the fridge and pulls out a plastic bag with a metal cap. I watch her long fingers as she writes a frosting “i” with a deft twist of her wrists. When she’s done she turns to me, and I’m overcome again by the intensity of her unblinking stare. “This is not an exercise of spite,” she says. “Closure Cake is a celebration of your relationship. We need to be respectful to Brittani. Logan.” My dick twitches at my name on her lips. “Brenna and I are trusting you by including you in our ritual. No more shit-talking Brittani.”

My lips quirk. “Got it.”

She raises a brow. “Good. Now, before I cut the cake, I want you to shut your eyes and think about your happiest memory with Brittani.”

Collective giggles erupt around the room. Lani’s face is still serious, but maybe she’s just not a giggler. Or a smiler. I glance at Brenna for guidance, who has a repressed smile on her lips. I look back at Lani. “Um…” I squint at her. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No,” she says. “And I won’t cut the cake until you do it. It’s part of the ritual.” She gestures with the cake knife in her hand as if to say, “Go on.” And just like that, my dick stirs again. It takes so little with this girl. All she has to do is look at me with those intense eyes and order me around with the stern primness of an elementary school teacher.

“Okay,” I say. I shut my eyes tight, torn between embarrassment for doing this in front of so many eyes—Armaan’s especially—and the strong desire to please Lani. I take a slow, steady breath, trying to ignore the whispered chuckle I know belongs to Armaan.

I’m not thinking about my ex-girlfriend. Brittani Vaughn feels like ancient history already. Instead, my head is full of stern eyes and prim, heart-shaped lips. Memories of that high, husky voice floating in and out. I would punish you too. When heat shoots into my groin, I figure I’ve been closing my eyes long enough. I don’t want anyone around me to guess my thoughts.

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Lani’s concentrated stare looking back at me. Warm pleasure spreads through me. She looks like she’s fascinated. Like I’m as interesting to her as she is to me.

“What did you think about?” Brenna asks.

I smile faintly. “Something personal.”

“That means blowjob,” Armaan says. “Although, he’s already told me that Brittani was pretty stingy with oral. One of her many wonderful qualities.”

“I never said that!” I exclaim, hating him for the millionth time tonight for his god damn mouth.

He smirks. “You did, though.”

I’m saved from arguing when Lani intervenes. “Armaan! None of that. I told you this is a ritual of respect.”

“Seriously, no more!” Brenna shouts. “I’ll banish you from this kitchen. You won’t get any cake!”

Armaan shrugs before taking a sip of his Stone IPA. “I’d rather just have beer anyway—no offense, Lani.”

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