Page 53 of How Sweet It Is

“She’s your kid. Of course she is.”

She lifts her eyes to mine, and for a second, I see how much this is eating her up. And maybe focusing on the cake is easier than facing the thing that might break her heart.

“I’m scared, Levi.”

“I know. But don’t worry. Skyler adores you. You know this. She will be thrilled with the news.”

Her voice grows quiet. “But I’m not ready for all the questions. Why I had to give her up. Who her father is and where he is.” She groans.

I know she doesn’t want me to come in and try to solve this for her, so I don’t say anything. It will all work out anyway. Iknow it will. Silence stretches between us for a beat, and then she sits up straighter, shakes her head like she’s throwing off the fog, and narrows her eyes at me. “Enough about me. What about you?”

I blink. “What about me?”

“Who are you bringing to the wedding?”

I snort. “We’re doing this now?”

“Yes, we’re doing this now. You have six days to find a date, and if you say you’re coming solo, I will personally glue you to someone at the reception.”

I grin at the mental image. “Sounds painful.”

She points at me. “Ask Amelia.”

I pause, hand still on the edge of the sink. “What?”

Kiki smirks like she caught me midblush, which I didnotdo, thank you very much. “You heard me.”

“I’m not asking her to a wedding. That’s a big deal. That’s next level.”

“Next level?” she echoes, mocking me. “This isn’t a marriage proposal, it’s a party with cake. You like cake. She likes cake. You already flirt like you’re in a rom-com. Just ask her.”

“I can’t just ask her. What if she says no?”

Kiki rolls her eyes. “You’ve asked out every girl in the universe, Levi. Grow a pair.”

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “Fine. Maybe.”

She grins. “Maybe means yes.”

“Maybe means maybe.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She hops off the stool, already less frantic than when she walked in. “Now, about the cake. I’m thinking chocolate. Or lemon. Or what’s that one you did with the raspberry filling?”

“Oh no,” I mutter, reaching for the piping bag again. “Just pick one. It doesn’t matter. It’s just cake.”

She stares at me. “Yeah, it’s only my wedding. My one and only wedding. Doesn’t matter at all.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I say, softening. “I mean, whatever you choose will be amazing, and you’ll have a happily ever after no matter what flavor you decide on.”

“All right. I’ll make a decision. Chocolate cake. There. That’s my final decision.”

I smirk at her.

“What?”

“It’s the one you started with.”

She laughs. “You’re right. I’m being silly. Just think about what I said. I’d love for Amelia to be there.”

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