Page 149 of Fire and Icing

Syd leans over and whispers to me. “You should be on top of the world. What's wrong?”

I whisper back. “It's just ... it doesn't feel right without Dustin here.”

Syd pops a hand on her hip. Her voice is still quiet. “That’s because the contest doesn’t matter as much to you anymore. You’ve got your eye on a different prize now.”

“I miss him,” I admit. “And he only just left.”

“Then go to him,” Syd urges in a hushed voice.

“I can't,” I whisper.

“What are you two whispering about?” Cass says. “Didn’t your mamas teach you that was rude?” She smiles teasingly.

“Sorry,” Syd says. “It’s Emberleigh. She’s got man trouble.”

“What on earth could be wrong with that man?” Winona asks.

“Nothing’s wrong with him, trust me,” I say. “He’s got an opportunity that might take him out of Waterford. Ever since I found out, I’ve been a wreck.”

Syd tells them all about Dustin and Nashville, ending with, “And he’s there, recording a demo today!”

“That’s amazing,” Cass says.

“And he invited Emberleigh and me to go see him perform live down there the day after tomorrow!”

“That sounds so fun!” Winona says.

“We’re not going,” I tell them.

“Why on earth not? Your boyfriend is performing an hour from here? Why can’t you go?”

“I should stay. The morning rush is crazy this time of year. I can’t afford to be out all hours and then try to make it in early to serve a line out the door the next morning.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Cass says. “Close for the next day. Or open later. Go see him perform. The town will survive without their muffins for one morning.”

Muffins.

“Maybe,” I say. Then I change the subject.

The next morning, I sleep in. It’s not my day off, so I’m frazzled, running around my house grabbing everything I need and dashing to my car. I text Syd on my way there to tell her I'm running late. She doesn’t answer. I stop at our favorite breakfast spot and grab us something to eat. I’ve been so consumed that I haven’t been the best friend lately. And she’s still acting a bit off.

I park my car in the spaces behind the bakery and walk up the steps to the back door. I’m carrying two paper bags filled with egg sandwiches, home fries and fried tomatoes.

I throw the door open and announce my arrival. “Hey! I brought us …”

I freeze, unable to finish my sentence. The bags fall to the ground and my hand flies up to cover my gaping mouth.

Two people are kissing.

In my kitchen.

The woman is undeniably my best friend. Her blonde-brown hair cascades down her back.

The man has dark brown hair. His hand is tangled in Syd’s hair. Her arms are wrapped around his neck.

“What’s going on?” I manage to get the words out despite my state of shock.

They break apart. And I gasp.

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