Page 85 of You Cake My Breath Away

“No way. Thank you for partnering with us,” I say, emphasizing the ‘you’ portion of my statement.

Jessie nods. “He’s right. We couldn’t have survived this semester without your magnificent brain.”

The server comes over and Tilly removes her hands from ours to order. I immediately miss the warmth of her touch. My eyes lock on Jessie across the table, and I can tell he’s feeling the same by the way he’s staring at his hand. How did I not notice how apparent his attraction to her has become? Was I so blinded by myself falling for her that I neglected to see my best friend was in deep too?

“I’ll have the white,” Tilly says, handing back the menu.

On autopilot, Jessie and I repeat our orders from the bar. Tilly doesn’t notice the tension at the table, or at least she doesn’t mention it as we wait for our drinks. Her dad stops by to say a quick hello but is drawn away by the line at the door. Tilly bites down on her lip and focuses on the menu, ordering the moment the server comes back to the table.

After a round of appetizers and chit-chat, we move onto plans for the next year.

“What classes are you taking next semester?” Tilly asks.

Jessie sets down his beer. “I have my last semester of upper-level business classes.”

“I have industrial internships to complete.” I leave out the fact that I’ll be working for one of Dad’s friends on their new hotel. I’m already feeling the pressure of his expectations, and even though I could’ve gotten my own internship, some things aren’t worth the fight. I’ve tried to keep the peace between us for the sake of mine and Claire’s relationship, and to be honest, I know his connections can help bolster my resume.

She smiles and lifts her wine glass. “To finishing our degrees.”

We clink glasses, and I notice the small frown that touches her cheek right before she tilts the glass to her lips, draining it in one gulp.

“What are your plans?” Jessie asks, not picking up on the fact that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

Her delicate fingers dance along the rim of her glass. “I’m still waiting to hear back if I got into culinary school.” She shrugs and pastes a smile onto her face. “Until then, I’ll keep baking for the restaurant.”

The server drops off our food, and we dig in, chatting about our holiday plans. Before I know it, the restaurant has cleared out except for a few people at the bar. Tilly’s dad comped our meal, which had to be at least two-hundred dollars with all the alcohol we ordered and the expensive entrees.

Jessie’s eyes meet mine when Tilly goes to the back to chat with her dad for a few minutes. Watching as she disappears out of view, my heart lurches into my throat.

“I want to ask her out,” Jessie says, staring at his half-empty glass.

Anger simmers beneath my skin. “So do I.”

The proverbial gauntlet has been thrown, and we’re two cowboys on opposite ends of a small western town, hands ready to draw our weapons. With a glance in the direction of the kitchen where Tilly is, my heart thrums inside my chest.

“What do we do?” Jessie asks, bringing my attention back to him.

My hand moves to the poker chip in my pocket. All the biggest decisions in my life have been made with a flip of this chip in hopes that my brother would guide me toward the right answer, to the things I deserve.

I remove the chip from my pocket and stare down at it, battling with my own inner demons.

“What are you doing?” Jessie’s brows cinch, his lips pinched together.

All the debasement from my parents, the underhanded comments about not deserving what I have, what I took from my brother, come barreling back in, and it’s clear in my heart that Tilly probably wouldn’tchoose me. Why would she want someone whose own parents despise him? Someone who knew his brother was struggling and didn’t get him the help he needed before it was too late. I can barely take care of myself and my emotions, and Tilly deserves much better than me.

A calmness settles over me, and in that instant, I realize that if Sebastian thinks I deserve a shot at Tilly he’ll make it so the poker chip lands in my favor. I hold my breath as I fling the chip in the air.

The soft clink of it against the table sets my stomach at the top of the highest roller coaster drop. Every muscle is tense, robbed of the air I’m holding in my chest, willing the chip to be on heads.

Jessie’s sharp inhale is all the confirmation I need. I don’t even look at the chip. I can’t bear to see my unworthiness staring back at me from the table, a constant reminder I’m not good enough, undeserving of love.

Swiping the chip back into my pocket, I stick my hand out to Jessie.

“Treat her right, or I’ll break every bone in your body.”

Reluctantly, I meet Jessie’s eyes. I expected him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, but he doesn’t. His expression is earnest and sincere.

“I will.”

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