Page 100 of Someone to Have
“It’s a long story, and I need a cinnamon roll to tell it.”
She hugs me a little tighter and then leads the way to the back of the house.
The kitchen smells like sweet pastries and coffee. My heart warms at seeing my friends gathered around Sadie’s massive farmhouse table, mismatched mugs in hand.
As Sloane stands, I rush forward and envelop her in a tight hug. She’s so thin, and her skin is still eerily pale, but her eyes are bright and determined.
“You will not cry,” she commands as we continue to hold each other.
“None of us are allowed to cry,” Avah reports from behind the counter where she’s placing her famous cinnamon rolls onto small earthenware plates. “Not that I was planning on it.”
“You’re as soft as the inside of your cinnamon rolls,” Sloane tells Avah when I finally release her. “You aren’t fooling anyone.” Her soft lavender beanie brings out the color in her eyes. Seeing herhere makes my throat tight with gratitude, even if I’m not allowed to cry.
We distribute the plates around the table, and then Sloane sits back in her chair, looking ready to dish. “So you finally went on a date with the Hugh Grant wannabe.”
“More like Hugh’s insufferable cousin,” I mutter, wrapping my hands around the mug of coffee Sadie hands me. “If Hugh has one of those.”
Avah snorts. “I could have told you that months ago. Plus, he gives off serial killer vibes.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “He’s not a serial killer.”
“As far as you know,” Molly adds softly, then claps a hand over her mouth when I shoot her a disbelieving look.
“Do you allhatehim?”
“Hate’s a strong word,” Iris says as she digs into her cinnamon roll. “But he’s an asshat, and it’s about time you realized it.”
“The real question is…” Sloane leans forward with the intensity of someone who’s spent a lot of time in hospital beds pondering life. “What are you going to do about the hot hockey player who’s kind of perfect for you?”
My stomach does a little flip. “Eric’s not perfect for me. We’re total opposites. He’s leaving town anyway, and I already told you we’re just?—”
“Just what?” Avah interrupts. She raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Enjoying mind-blowing sex? Making each other laugh? Having the kind of connection you read about in all those spicy romances?”
Molly rubs her palms together and does a funny little dance in her chair. “We also heard that Eric looked like he wanted to challenge the serial killer to a duel. That Regency-coded shit is smokin’, Tay.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “You guys weren’t even there.”
“Mel gave me a play-by-play,” Sadie says cheerfully. “Complete with dramatic reenactments.”
Sloane reaches across the table and grabs my hand. Her skin feels like a slip of paper, but her grip is surprisingly strong. “Listen to me. I’ve spent the last two months in a hospital room, wondering if I’d ever again get another chance to hug the people I love. Life’s too short for playing it safe with your heart.”
The kitchen goes quiet except for the soft tick of the clock in the hallway.
“But what if he doesn’t?—”
“What if he does?” Molly interrupts as she tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. “What if you’re so busy protecting yourself from disappointment that you miss out on something amazing?”
“You found your voice on stage with Eric’s help,” Avah reminds me. She leans back in her chair, clearly gearing up for a mic drop moment. “Now use it for something that actually matters.”
Mic. Dropped.
I stare at my coffee like I’m reading tea leaves that hold all the answers. The idea of telling Eric how I feel makes my heart race in a completely different way than stage fright ever did. The flutter of anticipation that swirls low in my belly is terrifying, but also exhilarating.
“I should focus on opening night,” I say finally. My voice sounds small even to my own ears.
“Perfect timing,” Sloane says with a grin. Her eyes sparkle with mischief despite everything she’s been through. “Nothing like a little drama to set the mood.”
I look around the table at these women who’ve become my chosen family, and something shifts in my chest. The bucket list challenge has taught me that I can do hard things. There’s a potential that I could fall. But there’s also a chance I might fly.
