Page 88 of No Rings Attached
“And once we’re done with that—strawberry champagne.” Penny’s grin widened. “Cake that flirts with you. Don’t blame me if it winks.”
My pulse stuttered. Unease curled in my belly.Another favorite.
“Then coffee cream.” She pretended to sigh. “I call this one the breakfast loophole. Cake and coffee in one bite. Totally legit.”
My throat tightened. Coffee.Anotherchoice I’d made years ago.
“And last but not least, salted caramel and vanilla-chocolate. Our classic duo in fancy clothes. Definitely not plain.” Penny set down plates with practiced cheer, her bubbly voice like soda fizz.
Drew slid his hand into mine, squeezing. His searching gaze saw more than anyone had in a long time.
How did Celia know?
Every single flavor. Every single cake. Every single one of my sister’s choices had beenmine.
I forced myself to meet my sister’s gaze across the table. For a second, her eyes locked with mine, wide with what seemed to be triumph, before she looked away and laughed that fake little laugh again. “They sound lovely, Penny. Just what we wanted. My sister and I used to dream about wedding cakes when we were little. I got my inspiration from that.”
Her performance was seamless, and her tone sugar-sweet for the cameras.
My anger simmering beneath my skin stuttered.
Is that all this was? I did remember us planning fake weddings, but I didn’t remember coming up with all these choices until I was older. Maybe this was all one big coincidence.
Penny’s eyes found mine. She gave me such a genuine, warm smile. I tried to smile back, but my lips trembled, and her brows pinched, like she saw straight through me.
She placed the last piece of blueberry-lemon cake in front of me with a wink. “Save room, Ellie. These cakes demand devotion.”
A laugh escaped me, shaky but real. “I’ll do my best.”
The door to the bakery flung open, and Celia squealed. “Kyle!?! Oh, my God! You made it!”
I froze as the act played out, trying to ignore the unease in my empty stomach and suddenly very glad we’d missed dinner.
Kyle’s entrance played like a slow motion scene in a movie. He strode in, all broad shoulders and fake gallantry, sweeping Celia into his arms like an old Hollywood moment.
I didn’t miss how he flashed the cameras a wide grin while doing it.
“I know how important it was for me to be here,” he said loud enough for the mic to catch his words. “I moved things around and got my clients covered. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
He kissed her, and my stomach turned—not because I cared, but because he had never once moved anything around for me. Not a client, not a meeting, not even himself.
I looked away, jaw tight. But I kept my chin up. I wasnotgoing to let them—or the cameras—see how this affected me. How had I let myself be treated that way? Accepting the tiny breadcrumbs of affection he threw my way, believing that was love.
What a fool I’d been.
“None of that matters. You’re here now,” Celia cooed, peppering kisses along his jaw.
Kyle lowered into the chair Celia had vacated, arranging her on his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. She nuzzled into his neck. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
He tightened his hold on her. “Me too.” His eyes finally flicked over to me, sharp and assessing.
Beside me, Drew let go of my hand with a squeeze and casually draped his arm over the back of my chair. His fingers gently rubbed at my back in slow circles between my shoulder blades, the gesture intimate but soothing, grounding me.
He leaned in and whispered loudly in my ear, “Oh, sothisis Kyle.” His unimpressed tone made me press my lips together so I didn’t laugh.
The flare of irritation in Kyle’s eyes was almost worth the heartbreak he’d cause me. I sat taller, petty satisfaction prickling through me.
“Ellie, nice to see you,” His clipped tone matched the stiffness in his shoulders.
