Page 41 of Give Me Forever Love

“Yeah, it’s really coming down out there. I’m going to make some vegetable soup since it’s supposed to rain all day. Figured people would like a little comfort food.”

“Good idea,” I say. I walk over and check out what she’s got in the oven. Fresh croissants and cinnamon buns have just been placed on the racks and she’s making icing. Always making so many things at once. I fight the urge to dip my finger into it. This isn’t our kitchen at home.

“I see you,” she says, a piece of hair falling in her face. She blows it out of the way.

I hold my hands up. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You better not be. I’ll have to throw the whole thing out.”

I lean back against the counter, watching her, remembering how she used to cook in the kitchen at our apartment and how I always used to steal a taste. I smile to myself, thinking back on when she interrupted Bryce and me because she wanted me to be her taste tester for Austin’s birthday cake icing.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks.

“Memories,” I reply.

“Care to share?”

“Just thinking back on how things used to be. You and your cooking.” I sigh. “How are things at home?”

“Things are good. Austin has basically moved in.”

I nod. “Good.”

“What about Bryce?” she asks. “How’s everything going with Red and his arrest?”

I look down, not sure if I can tell hereverything.

But why?

She was there when Bones killed Cain just like I was. We made a pact. We all swore we’d never say a word to anyone about it.

This is my best friend.

I can tell her anything.

That’s not changing just because I moved out and she’s got a bun in the oven and Austin’s moving in and Bryce wants to take me to another country.

I exhale internally.Calm down, girl.

There’s been so much going on. It’s as if I’ve been on a roller coaster that’s constantly going over hills and I can’t catch my breath before the next plummet.

“Bryce is out of jail,” I say.

She looks over at me. “That’s great.” She walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a stockpot. “What happens now?” She places it onto the stove before walking over to grab some olive oil.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She turns to me, narrowing her eyes. “He got arrested for a felony, right?” She pours a couple swirls into the pot before turning the heat on. Placing the bottle back where she got it, she grabs an onion and her knife.

“He did.”

She tilts her head, something clearly on the tip of her tongue, but she stops herself from saying it as she starts slicing the onion.

“What?” I ask. I look over at the kitchen doors. No one is around.

“I just worry, Kat. Sometimes I don’t know what to think about all that’s happened.”

“What do you mean?”

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