Page 24 of Lilies in Autumn

“Absolutely not.”

“What are the stakes?” Dante responds at the same time.

I look at Dante. Is he stupid? I barely know the girl, but it seems as though she’d cut his balls off if she found out she was the center of a bet. “D, are you dumb?”

He looks at me and smirks. “No, but I’m fucking marrying that girl one day, so there’s no way in hell I’m losing this bet. What are we betting for?”

Linc raises his eyebrow. “You just met her. You’re acting like that guy from the Netflix show that kills everyone and is obsessed with that baker chick.”

“When you know, you know. She’ll be mine one day, with a ring on her finger and my baby in her stomach. Don’t doubt that. Now, what’s the bet?”

Linc pauses, seemingly weighing the seriousness of Dante’s conviction over a girl he met once. His face suddenly lights up, and if I were Dante, I’d be scared by the look in his eyes. “Okay, you ugly fuck. If you fuck her this semester, I’ll give you my Camaro.” Oh shit, he has no faith in Dante that he’ll succeed with Celeste. Linc’s prized possession, his restored 1969 Chevy Camaro ZL-1, is worth over half a million dollars. Linc’s modeled since he was a kid and bought that car on his eighteenth birthday. It’s his baby, and there’s no fucking way he’d bet it if he thought Dante would win this dumb ass bet.

“And, if you lose,” Linc continues, pausing for dramatic effect. “You give me Francesca’s number and tell her to give me a shot.”

Dante looks at him in confusion. “You know my sister is a lesbian, right? And happily married. Why would she want to date you?”

“You’re dense. I want her to hire me in her restaurant.”

Dante shakes his head and looks at him in pity. “Never going to happen, doesn’t matter if I win or lose. You know how she is, only the best can step foot in her kitchens.” Dante’s sister, Francesca, or Franki, owns some of the most exclusive restaurants in New York, Aspen, and Los Angeles. Linc’s been trying to get a job in her kitchen since he turned eighteen. She’s turned him down every single time.

“If I win this bet, you’re going to make it fucking happen. You’ll babysit her cats for the next six years if that’s what it takes. Do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand to shake on it. Dante laughs at him, grabbing his hand and shaking it twice.

“Deal, pretty boy. I can’t wait to take my new car for a spin with my girl.”

Ava

The women of my family always told me to never show up empty-handed. I use that as my excuse for making over one hundred homemade cannoli for a college barbecue. It was like the ghost of my dead grandmother possessed me, forcing me to make the most stereotypical Italian dessert for the most attractive man I have ever seen.

Hyperbole? Maybe, but that didn’t make it any less true. I’m just lucky Serena has a full-service kitchen and had no problem letting me use it.

CeCe, Serena, and I step out of the Uber we ordered at Serena’s apartment, and my hands sweat holding the tray of dessert. I bite my bottom lip, contemplating whether or not I should toss this tray into the bushes. God, why couldn’t I have a fake ID like a normal eighteen-year-old and just bring a bottle of cheap vodka? I had to go full-blown “nonna.” I’m going to scare him off with this gesture, it’s too intense.

Fucking, fuck, fuck.

“Guys, I think I should just leave these cannoli out here. Is it weird that I brought them?”

“Are you nuts?” “No, bring them,” CeCe and Serena say at the same time, somewhat calming my nerves.

“Aves.” CeCe steps in front of me, blocking my view of the house. “If he can’t appreciate that you just spent three hours making something for him to enjoy, then he’s not worth your time.” She grabs my shoulders, squeezing them in support. “Calm down, don’t create scenarios in your head. We haven’t even walked inside yet.”

“Agreed,” Serena chimes in. “Most girls our age have no idea how to navigate a kitchen, let alone do what you did in such a short amount of time. Don’t be embarrassed, you’re badass.”

I offer a smile to my friends, grateful for their encouragement before walking into the unknown. “Thanks, guys. I’m sorry I’m so neurotic. I’ve never been invited to something like this, and I don’t want to come across as too intense.” From what I saw on Thursday, Greyson was close to perfect and the last thing I want to do is call attention to my quirks. But CeCe and Serena are right, I need to calm down. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and walk around CeCe, heading to the front door.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” I raise my hand and knock on the front door. Almost instantly, it opens with the tall model of their group on the other side.

“Ladies, welcome. Grey told us you were coming. We’re all out back.” He ushers us inside, closing the door behind us. “I’m Lincoln,” he says and turns toward Serena. “Dylan just got here.” My friend offers a blush and a small smile in response.

“You”—Lincoln points to CeCe—“must be Celeste. Dante won’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smirks, turning his finger to me. “And you must be Ava. Grey won’t shut the fuck up about you either.” I raise my eyebrows, surprised that we’ve been the topic of conversation.

“Didn’t your mama teach you not to point? It’s rude,” C starts in on him, living up to Greyson’s nickname for her. “But I’m just happy he told you my real name and not Red. And if you even think about calling me Red, I’ll cut your dick off. Got it?”

“Easy, killer.” Lincoln lets out a laugh. “God, it’s going to be so much fun watching D get his balls handed to him. Promise that you’ll film it?”

I clear my throat, eager to move the conversation away from Dante’s dick and balls. It seems as though every time he’s brought up, CeCe brings up his male anatomy. If she thinks she’s fooling me with the tough girl act, she’s sorely mistaken. She confirmed she was interested in him when she didn’t balk about coming here today, knowing that he lives here and would surely be present.

“Uhm, I brought cannoli.” I thrust the tray to Lincoln, interrupting his laughter. “They need to be refrigerated if you have space.”

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