Page 60 of In a Pinch

I slide out of her and toss the condom in the trash.

Laying on our backs, we catch our breaths. She rolls her head to look at me with a blissful smile on her lips. I can’t help myself from needing to be closer to her, and my lips meet hers. This one feels different. There is none of the rush of the moment. It’s soft, and fuck, it makes me feel things. Things that scare the shit out of me. But the thought of not chasing this feeling? Ten times worse.

I pull back and give her one last peck, then walk over to the kitchen and slide my boxers back on.

“Can you hand me your shirt?”

Seeing her in my shirt, with sweat coating her forehead… Just, damn.

“Now that we’ve really worked up an appetite, let’s eat.” I lean down, intending to help her to her feet, but find her hands on myface instead. She reaches up for another kiss. The soft smile on her lips will be the death of me one of these days.

She pulls back. “Okay, now we can eat.”

She serves us each a cinnamon roll. If they taste half as good as they smell, she will get an A+. Grabbing the plates, she comes over to the barstools and places one in front of me with a fork. Staring down at it and then hers, I wait for her to dig in. When I turn my head, her green eyes are boring into me.

“Are you going to eat it?” she asks, while white-knuckling her own fork. What the fuck is up with her?

“Uh, yeah.” Realizing that her making her favorite dish for me is probably a little nerve-racking, I debate on some payback for what she did to me her first time at Flambé.

I cut off a piece and graze it through the extra bit of frosting that has spilled over the top and down to the plate. When I pop it in my mouth, the sweetness mixed with the spice of cinnamon explode in my mouth. Fuck. Forgetting all about payback, I moan as I savor it.

Turning my head, I see a smug smile on her face. “So, you like it, huh?”

This is the best fucking cinnamon roll of my life, and I hate it because I will have to lie to my mom when I tell her that hers are the best. Because Addie’s are next level.

“The best I’ve ever had.” The thought rumbles around in my head because everything with her is the best I’ve ever had.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Addie

“Girls weekend!” Isla screeches as she dashes out of the car and to the front door of our rental, bags in hand. We’re only going out of town for the weekend, but by the number of bags she packed, someone would think we were moving across the continent.

“Geez, Isla, it’s a miracle there was room for the rest of our bags,” Liz says as we hoist her bags out of the back seat of my cherry-red Bronco, since mine and Isla’s bags—well, mostly Isla’s—filled up the entirety of the back.

We rented a house near the coast because we didn’t want to go out of state. It might be a bit chilly, since it is only the beginning of May. So, swimming might be a bust, but we can still sit on the beach with a drink in our hands. There are a few local barswe can run around to get the full bachelorette weekend effect. I brought a lifetime supply of electrolytes just in case we get a little too wild.

“I’m so excited for this.” Isla claps her hands together, practically vibrating. “Work has been a shit show.” She throws her arms around mine and Liv’s shoulders the second we walk through the door. “A weekend with my girls is just the thing I need. Thank you all for doing this for me.”

“Don’t thank us yet. We have girls night out tonight, and you might not be feeling like a million bucks tomorrow morning.” Liv chuckles as Isla drops her arms and heads to the kitchen.

The house is right on the water and has the perfect coastal vibe with the colors of pastels throughout the spacious living space. The beige couch is littered with coral and blue throw pillows, and the walls are filled with nautical décor, adding to the beachy vibes.

The front window has a perfect view of the beach. Even if it ends up raining the whole time—which it isn’t forecasted to do, but you never know—we will still have a good view.

Reaching into my pocket, I slide out my phone and take a picture of the view, sending it to the family group chat. Partially for the view and partially to appease my mother, so she can know we made it safe and sound. She may still be a million miles away, but she checks in literally every day. As do my sisters. My brother lets me know he’s alive once a month, but he’s twenty-one and out there living his best life. So, I don’t hold it against him.

My attention is turned back to the kitchen, when I hear the sound of a water bottle seal being broken open. I peek back, hoping it’s Isla’s water…

Good, she’s hydrating early. My job as maid of honor is to babysit Isla. There will be noThe Hangoversituations happening on my watch. And no liquor for me.

After three rounds of shots at our first bar—and probably last—I have utterly failed at the no liquor rule. Here I was, thinking we would ease into the weekend, but Isla walked in and ordered all of us a round of Sex on the Beach drinks, and well, it was downhill from there.

The bar is buzzing around us, the sound of chatter fighting against the music fills the room. The description online made it sound like it would be a cozy, little joint, and it is. But because it’s slammed and there are people literally everywhere, it’s giving more of a popping club vibe.

Sitting at the table, our laughs fill the air. I look around, and maybe it’s the drinks singing through my system, but I feel so incredibly lucky that these are my friends and that I took a chance to start over.

“I’m going to the bar to get us another round!” Isla pops off her chair, which scrapes the ground as she slightly stumbles to her feet.

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