Page 29 of Because of Me

With a shrug, I do my best to change the subject, even as Ella tries to force the conversation further.

“So how long do you plan on being in Melbourne?” I finally ask the question I should already know the answer to. It roughly translates to ‘how long will you be staying in my apartment?’ and ‘how long do I have to keep this up with Noah?’

“Your mum didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, dividing the icing mixture into various bowls so I can colour it. Ella steps back to sit back down on the couch, twisting her body to hang over the back as she talks.

“I’m moving here. I just need to find a job and a permanent place to live.”

In the back of my mind, it registers that as family I should tell her she can stay as long as she needs. It’s what my mother would expect of me, and it’s what Ella would say if our roles were reversed. But the words are stuck deep in my windpipe, and I can’t get them out. Because I don’t want her here for ‘as long as she needs’. I’m glad she’s here, I’m enjoying her company now she’s had a full night’s sleep, but it’s not that simple.

I can’t expect Noah to stay indefinitely.

“Oh, I would hire you for the shop if we were busy enough,” I fumble out after far too long. Although business is growing, we still can’t justify any extra help. The casual barista we hired to help on weekends stretches the budget as thin as we can allow, especially with Madison going on maternity leave soon. Beyond that, we do what we need to make it work. Even if it means I’m baking on my so-called day off.

The timer on the oven dings and I turn my back to Ella to pull out the three trays of cookies. Steam hits me when I open the door, and for a moment I think I burnt them, but when it settles I can see the perfectly shaped blobs are a light tan, just as they should be. They’ll be beautiful cookies, once they’ve cooled and I’ve iced them to look like the stunning Australian natives Cassidy’s bouquets are full of. This design always sells so well, I have no plans of changing them.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t want it,” Ella says with a short laugh when I face her. “No offence, but I could not stand around and make coffee all day. I want to sit at a desk and work on a computer and not have to deal with people.”

“You know you have to deal with people no matter what job you do?”

“Fine. But it would be less people, at least.” She turns to grab her laptop from the coffee table and brings the screen to life again. “There are loads of admin and data entry jobs. I just need to apply for enough of them and I’ll get one soon enough. And then I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”

Finally, my social graces return. “It’s okay, I’m not trying to kick you out.”

“I know, but I feel bad that I’m in yours and Noah’s space. You two are cute together, I don’t want to ruin that.” Her fingers tap at the keyboard as she applies for another job.

With the cookies cooling and the royal icing ready to go, I find myself pottering around behind the bench. Putting appliances away, loading the dishwasher, wiping the bench. Eventually, I realise I’m just finding stuff to do so I can put a bit of distance between myself and my cousin. As though the further away I am, the less likely she will see how my cheeks are burning.

‘Cute’ is not exactly the word I would use to describe Noah and me. We constantly bicker, and I always catch myself scowling. Especially when he calls me Cupcake.

Ella must sense my silent confusion because the tapping stops and she turns to face me. “You don’t think so?”

“You do?” I’m now drying the sink, mentally rolling my eyes at myself. Defeated, I throw the cloth over the hook on the cupboard and emerge from behind the bench. As comfy as the couch looks, I choose to take a seat in my favourite dining chair. The old wooden style is uncomfortable, but it was the first piece of furniture I bought when I first moved out. It was cheap, and I needed that, but I painted it a vibrant red and now I love it. I always will because it’s a reminder of my independence. I stretch my legs under the table to prop my feet on one of the other chairs; a modern style with a purple upholstered base and a black round backrest.

“Of course,” Ella chimes, leaning around the arm of the couch. Her hands pull towards her chest and she tilts her head like a schoolgirl talking about the kid she has a crush on. “He’s always looking at you with such love. It’s kind of sickening but it’s super sweet. He literally has hearts in his eyes. And every time he calls you ‘Cupcake’ I think my heart melts a little.”

I force my expression flat, fighting against the way my brow wants to furrow at her observation. I want to ask if he really is always looking at me, but that would be a dead giveaway. I want to know if the looks are all part of the act, or if Noah is more into this whole fake relationship than I thought.

It would explain all the little things I’ve been brushing aside. How he carried me up the stairs after the wedding, the way his hands linger on my body. The kiss. This morning. I never stopped to think aboutwhyNoah was so open to helping me trick my family. It didn’t make sense that he would drop his life and move out of the house I’ve never been to but know he has down the peninsula, when he has seemingly nothing to gain. But I didn’t allow myself time to dwell on it. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I was too caught up in my own problems.

Still, if he did want more, why has he never made that clear?

“He calls me Cupcake as a joke,” I admit before I get too lost in the confusing thoughts now running amok in my mind.

“What do you mean?”

“He said he needed a nickname for me and started rattling off cutesy names. I hated them all, but I hated Cupcake the most, and he could tell. So, it stuck, and now I can’t get him to stop.”

Ella shifts on the couch, shimmying her shoulders with a smirk. “I bet you love it now though. Besides, it suits you.”

“How?” Folding my arms across my chest, I lean back against the hard wooden chair, rolling my spine against the hard slats.

“Because it’s sweet, like you. A little bite-sized dessert. Plus, all the baking you do for the café.”

“I am not bite-sized.”

“You are little though.”

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