Page 101 of Severance

“Really?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while.” I smile at him. “You never know. Maybe one day I’ll open my own bakery.”

“Allow me.” He takes the camera from me and fiddles with the settings. Then he says, “Come here,” and pulls me into a hug.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching him thrust my Nikon into the air.

“Taking a selfie.” He angles the camera so that the lens is facing us and presses the shutter release button a few times.

When he’s finished, we flip through the photos together. They’re funny—our faces are scrunched up and we both have messy hair—but I love them.

“I think you’d make a great baker.” Dakota aims a mysterious smile at me, putting the camera aside. “A very hot one too.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. His compliments stir things inside me. “I may need some help.”

“I might know a guy who’d want the job if he fails to get a record deal.”

“Maybe I’ll take him up on his offer.” My voice trails off and my mind snaps back into the vicious circle of what my life actually is. Not my imaginary life where I bake cupcakes for a living and Dakota plays stadiums but where I’m just a freshman and he’s just a guy who’s doing his best to get his local band signed with any small label ready to take a chance on his music.

“Did you already find a place to stay in Seattle?” I ask.

“Mikah knows a couple of people in the area.”

“Are you excited?”

“I’m fucking high.” Dakota laughs, settling into his chair. “It’s a thousand-person-capacity venue. I know it’ll be half-empty during our set, but it’s way better exposure than we get here.” His eyes take on a spark as he continues to explain why these February Seattle dates are so important for Midnight Rust. Apparently, Eric, the band’s new manager, has some connections that could lead to a record deal. Some things are still in the air, but they’re booking additional dates outside of Portland for almost every weekend in February and March.

It’s breathtaking to watch him talk about plans for the band, even though it makes me feel left behind.

“I’m not going to see you at all when you get a deal.” I sigh. There’ll be a gazillion girls chasing him if he becomes famous and, somehow, I don’t doubt that he will. He’s too good for a local club. Too talented. Too beautiful. A visionary.

“You will. I’ll take you with me.”

My brain latches on to his words like they’re a lifeline. Going on tour with him sounds terrifyingly romantic—in a rock’n’roll kind of way. “My parents will never let me.”

Dakota leans back in his chair and studies my face. “Why don’t they trust you?”

His question hangs in the air. I take a few moments to consider my answer, but there’s not one that would really explain exactly how my family operates.

“Maybe they’re scared I’m not mature enough to make life decisions,” I mutter.

“I don’t believe that’s true. You’re with me. That’s the best decision you’ve ever made.” A cocky smile touches his lips. I like how charmingly full of himself he can be sometimes. “I also think you’re more mature than most girls your age.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve dated some.” He pauses.

My curiosity’s piqued. I want to know things I probably have no business knowing, simply because it concerns him, and everything that concerns him, intrigues me. “Have there been many?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dakota shakes his head, getting to his feet and reaching out for me.

“Why not?” I retort.

“Because now I’m with you.” He pulls me up from my chair and snakes his arms around my waist. “And I don’t want this—us—to ever end.”

Heat surges between my legs and my knees weaken. I put my hands behind his neck and study the patches of flour dusting his left cheek.

Dakota pulls me closer and brushes a stray hair off my forehead. His lips linger on my mouth, taunting me. Taking it slow, we savor each stroke of our tongues, each exchange of breath.

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