โThis is our last chance.โ
My eyes roam over Icing on the Cake, hands on my hips. Weโre loitering just outside the faded brick building on a quiet, tree-lined street near the main drag of downtown Napa. The noontime sun is perched high above us, bleaching the sky around it.
This place isnโt as fancy as Sucre, but the cheerful yellow door, matching awning, and sweet display of desserts in the window have raised my hopes despite attempts to claw them back down to earth. The disasters that have befallen us this week put our odds somewhere in the gutter, but I canโt give up with Adam and Graceโs eternal happiness on the line.
Eliโs standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, wearing an indulgent look.
โWhatโs that face?โ
His expression turns innocent. โItโs not a face.โ โItโs a face. Youโre making a face.โ
โIt was just a good line, thatโs all,โ he says. โExtremely dramatic, but solid.โ
โIโm serious,โ I groan, removing the clip holding my hair in a messy updo. โWeโre going to have to do whatever it takes to get this cake.โ
Eli watches avidly as I throw the clip into my bag and rake my fingers through my hair. โIโm drawing the line at sexual favors, but Iโm down for almost anything else.โ
I give him a look, and he flashes a little smile in return. โWeโre out of options, Eli. If you need to get on your knees, so be it.โ
His smile turns into a full grin. โI love Adam and would do anything for him, but I wonโt do that.โ
โOkay, Meat Loaf,โ I mutter.
โThatโs not to say Iโm opposed to the position under other circumstances,โ he continues. โJust not for Adam.โ
I donโt dare look at Eli, but my mind immediately flashes with memories: him pressing me against our front door, kneeling in the foyer as he pushed up the hem of my dress, laying open-mouthed kisses up my thighs while I wound my fingers into his hair; the way heโd drag me to the end of the bed by my ankle, laughing, so that my legs dangled over the edge and he could insinuate himself between them to pepper sweet kisses on my stomach.
The way he wouldโve knelt for me this morning if I asked him to. If Iโd let that timer spin out of control, if Cole and Cal hadnโt interrupted us and then pulled Eli away to survey the damaged cottage.
We spent the morning apart after that, and I was so busy with Aunt Julia that I didnโt see him until it was time to go. The distance felt necessary, a bucket of cold water over my head and a chance for me to remember the list of reasons I canโt put my hands on him again:
1.
Because we did this before and broke it
2.
Because after five years of barely talking, weโre finally in a better place and I need to protect that
3.
Relatedly, because of Adam and our inextricably tied friendship
4.
Because, yes, Eli quit his job, but heโs already got his sights on something new, and old habits die hard
5.
Because even if something were to happen, Iโm likely leaving for Seattle
6.
Most importantly, because I canโt afford to be distracted this week
And I am distracted, torturously. My bodyโs been edgy since he left my bed, a feeling that only got worse during the car ride over here, which was filled with surface-level conversationโnothing about what we did this morning or Eliโs confession last night. Our back and forth still managed to feel like the weight of his body on mine, and now Iโm stuck with the sexual version of a held-in sneeze. I desperately need relief.
But that relief would come in the form of an Eli-gifted orgasm, and I canโt. No matter how much I want it.
And god, I do.
I bite back a groan at my circular thoughts, nodding toward the bakery. โWe should go in.โ
โWeโre twelve minutes early,โ Eli says, dodging a stroller-pushing dad as he follows me to the door.
โIโm not taking any chances.โ
He stops me, his gaze assessing, and then amused. โMargot traumatized you.โ
โYouโve got some burn marks from the dragon, too, buddy,โ I say, flicking a finger at him.
โBuddy, huh?โ he murmurs, fighting a smile. โWhat happened to
shithead?โ
โYouโve graduated since youโve been such a good boy,โ I say dryly. โI thoughtย myย shithead was an endearment.โ
โDerogatory, Iโm sorry to tell you.โ
The smile wins as he reaches past me for the door handle, putting our bodies in torturous proximity. โI knew it.โ
I tip my chin back, adjusting to the way he looms over me. If I pressed up on my tiptoes, Iโd be tasting him right now. โDonโt be smug about it.โ
โNot smug.โ His mouth softens into a tender little curve. โI just like that I knew.โ
The moment quiets and stretches out, and I hold my breath, not wanting to break this spell. Knowing we have to for so many reasons.
His gaze skims my face before landing with intention on my mouth. โIโฆโ
When he doesnโt continue, I whisper, โWhat?โ
His eyes find mine again and he lets out a breath that touches my lips the way I wish his mouth would. The way I know it canโt.
โThis isnโt our last chance,โ he says, and for a second I think heโs talking about us, until I remember: weโre at the bakery. For the cake. Because Adam and Grace need aย cakeย for theirย wedding. โBut I recognize that itโs our best one, so if this place is up to your standards weโll make it work. Even if I have to get on my knees.โ
โI thought you crossed that option off the list.โ
The corners of his eyes crinkle. I have to curl my hands into fists to stop from touching those time-worn lines. โI will if it comes down to it, for you.โ
Heโs teasing, of course, but it still makes my heart drop into my stomach. โDonโt tell Adam that. You know he gets sensitive about being our number one.โ
Adam has always claimed the number one best friend spot in both my and Eliโs brackets; to this day he jokingly refuses to acknowledge a lower spot. Iโve held on to that small token of belonging, but I canโt help wondering where we all honestly sit now. Grace is his Person, and heโs introduced other friends into his life, too. Soon theyโre going to have an infant to focus on. The more phases he leapfrogs ahead of us into, the further away the number one days feel.
โIf Adam finds out about this hypothetical and bizarre sexual-favor scenario, you can support my lie and tell him it was for him,โ Eli says, interrupting my thoughts.
I exhale as he finally opens the door, nudging me inside. โDeal. Letโs hope we wonโt have to pull that lever, though.โ
โAfternoon!โ
We turn as a tall Asian woman with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair steps out from behind the L-shaped counter. The space doesnโt gleam like Margotโs shop, but itโs much warmer. The front room is small and crowded
with a few other customers roaming around, the floor a slightly faded black- and-white checkerboard. One wall is full of floating shelves holding trailing Pothos plants and stacks of love-worn baking cookbooks.
โAre you my two oโclock?โ the woman asks as she reaches us.
โWe are.โ I take her offered hand, stepping aside while Eli does the same. โIโm Georgia and this is Eli.โ
โHey, you two, Iโm Tai.โ She runs her palms down the white smock tied around her waist, splitting her gaze between the two of us. โUsually I like to meet with the couple forโโ
She keeps talking, but my brain blanks out. All I can think of is Margot kicking us out of her bakery because we were on time instead of early and because she hated our vibes. Grace and Baby Song-Kim not having a cake to enjoy on Saturday. My spot in that bracket.
โThatโs us,โ I blurt out. โWeโre the couple.โ
Eli turns to me, eyes wide, and I hold out my hand. He stares at it, then at me. I wiggle my fingers.ย This is your kneeling moment, dude.
After a beat, he takes my hand. Itโs tentative at first, like we havenโt done this a million times. But when his fingers wind through mine, itโs with a confident pressure. Tendrils of attraction and an old, familiar comfort wind through my blood. Our eyes meet. Itโs that lock-click, even under false pretenses.
โThatโs us,โ he echoes, eyes on me.
I smile, adrenaline pouring through me as I turn to Tai. โThank you for taking us on such short notice.โ
โThatโs perfect, then,โ Tai says. โLetโs get started.โ
Eli gives me a look I canโt decipher, but follows me without a word.
โI like getting to knowย my couples as weโre doing the tasting, but tell me if I get too nosy,โ Tai says as she sets two square white plates in front of Eli and me. There are six slices on each, delectable little triangles of flour and sugar my roiling stomach canโt handle right now.
โSounds good,โ Eli says beside me. His knee bobs underneath the wood table, his bare skin brushing up against mine over and over.
I wish we hadnโt both worn shorts. I wish I could read any thought or emotion on his face to determine if he wants to strangle me for this latest pickle Iโve gotten us into, but itโs blank. He held my hand until we sat down, then placed it on my leg, his palm grazing my thigh as he let go. Now his hands are clasped between his legs, his fingers tangling and untangling.
Tai describes each of the flavors to us as she takes a seat in the chair across the table. โWhy donโt you try the vanilla first?โ
โIโve got this one, just to check it off our list,โ Eli says, giving me a pointed look. โGeorgia has a vanilla allergy.โ
My response is immediate, exasperated, and years old. โItโs not an allergy, I just sometimes canโt tolerate it.โ
โEvery time she eats it,โ he says. โNotย everyย time.โ
โItโs every time,โ Eli whispers to Tai conspiratorially. She raises a questioning eyebrow at me.
โIโ okay, thatโs true, but itโs anย intolerance.โ I nudge Eliโs knee. โWhy donโt you and your mouth do something more productive than spreading slander?โ
His amusement turns heated. โSure, Iโm taking requests.โ
โNoted for later,โ I play along, and god, I wish. His eyes spark, like a true fiancรฉโs would. โBut for now I mean the cake.โ
โThis is fun,โ Tai says, splitting a smile between us. Eli grins over at her. โI agree.โ
Unfortunately, I do, too.
โSo, howโd you two meet?โ Tai asks.
My brain goes offline as I unfold a napkin in my lap. For a second, I forgot weโre supposed to be faking. โUhโฆโ
โAt a Halloween party,โ Eli steps in, pressing his fork into the slice. I watch as he takes a bite, licking his lips with a soft, satisfied hum that sounds like the noise I licked off his tongue this morning. It buzzes through
my body like a sugar high. โGeorgia was singing karaoke and tripped over the tip of her pepperoni pizza costume as I was passing by. Knocked me flat on my ass.โ He glances at me. โLiterally and figuratively.โ
I blink at him, my mouth parting. In return, his mouth curls around his fork as he takes another bite.
Ohh-kay. Heโs not going to strangle me, but he is going to play with me as payback. Amusement and something smokier curl through me.
โThankfully you were wearing that blow-up T-Rex costume, so it broke our fall,โ I say.
He lifts an eyebrow, cutting into the next slice, which is passion fruit. โYeah, until your crust punctured one of my arms.โ
I lift an unapologetic shoulder. โHazard of the costume, Iโm afraid.โ Tai laughs. โWhat song were you singing?โ
โIt wasโโ
โCeline Dion,โ Eli says. โ โItโs All Coming Back to Me Now.โ I thought someone was playing a clip of a dying cat on the speaker system until I turned the corner and saw her standing on the coffee table.โ
โI donโt stand on tables!โ I cut in with a defensive laugh.
The gold in his eyes is lit up like stars. โAnymore. But you did as a pepperoni pizza.โ
I take a bite of cake. โAlso, my singing isnโt that bad.โ
This is a patent lie, and the dying-cat comparison is Eli being generous. He used to sneak into the bathroom when I was performing shower concerts; Iโd find him leaning against the counter when I pulled back the curtain, wearing a tender grin.
โBuddy, come on,โ he laughs quietly and the curve of it makes it sound like heโs calling me Peach. Thereโs so much affection in it. If I didnโt have five yearsโ worth of evidence that heโs good at playing roles, Iโd sink so deep into this that Iโd never come out.
This isnโt our old role-playing, though. Itโs softer, like weโre doing this in support of one another, not in defense of ourselves. Thereโs a heat, too, though itโs surely just left over from our slip-up this morning.
โThe passion fruit is good,โ I say, nodding at his nearly gone slice.
โDelicious,โ he agrees, eyes on me.
โItโs funny,โ Tai muses, โIโve been doing this for twenty-three years and Iโve discovered itโs usually the imperfections that make people fall in love. Bad singers, would-be chefs who burn every meal. My partner snores like a freight train, but when they travel for work, I canโt sleep. Go figure, right?โ She gestures between us. โNow back to you two. Are we talking love at first sight?โ
โNo,โ I say in unison with Eliโs, โYes.โ
I gape at him, shocked heโs weaving such an integral part of our story into this moment. He must be saying it because itโs familiar, which makes it more believable.
Tai clocks my reaction and leans in. โVery juicy. Try the peach bourbon next and then tell me all about that.โ
The cake might as well be cardboard in my mouth. Every sense is locked on Eli, waiting for his answer.
โShe had fake pepperonis all over her face, and she was still the most beautiful person in the room. She rearranged everything in my body when she ran into me. Again, literally and figuratively.โ His voice is quiet, eyes on Tai, but I can feel his awareness of me like a tether between us. One corner of his mouth picks up as he takes a bite of cake. โMmm. This oneโs my favorite.โ
Tai beams. โIโm so glad you love it. I have a bias toward peaches.โ
โMe, too,โ Eli says with a brilliant smile. โThat waโ itโs my nickname for Georgia. Peach. I called her that the night we met, and she called me Ninety-Nine because I was the ninety-ninth person to try that nickname on her. I wasnโt very original.โ
The line between real and play is blurring, and I scramble to keep up. โNot original, but far superior to Pepperoni Face.โ
His laugh is soft in volume and rough in tone; it feels like his palms moving over me this morning.
โAnd for you it was later?โ Tai asks me.
I canโt find my words at first, too busy thinking about Eliโs. I watch him fiddle with a long strip of paper he mustโve peeled from his napkin. False
scenarios float through my mind, but in the end, there are some things you canโt fake.
โWe were best friends for a long time and that felt like winning the lottery to me, so I was scared to mess with it.โ Eliโs devoted attention is a touch, like fingers framing my face. โWe used to work at our friendโs familyโs winery every year and the last summer we were there, things changed. We were going to be at the same school after a couple years of distance, and once we were there, I justโฆโ I stare down at Eliโs fingers, frozen on that strip of paper. โHe bought me a cupcake for my twenty-first birthday in October. Chocolate, of course.โ
Tai laughs, but is otherwise rapt, and I think back to that night two months into the school year. I watched Eli climb the steps to my off-campus apartment, a familiar blue box from a local bakery in one hand, his other palm moving down the thigh of his jeans. He looked at the door, not knowing that I was looking at him, taking in every detail of his face because I knew Iโd want to remember what he looked like the moment before we tipped over. Weโd been dancing around it, him tentative and me terrified, even though I knew it was inevitable. The previous weekend weโd nearly kissed in the dark hallway of a frat party, the tang of beer burning my nostrils, his breath on my mouth. Someone had interrupted us, and Iโd lived in that suspended moment the entire week, my heart somewhere in my throat. In his hands.
I still remember how carefully he lit the single candle, his palm curved protectively around it afterward. I wanted his hand exactly like that against my neck, cradling it before he kissed me. He sang โHappy Birthday,โ eyes on me, that deep, beautiful brown lit up with flame. I was so scared. I wanted it so much.
โI wished for him,โ I admit, my heart in my throat again. โThen I blew out the candle and the wish came true. Thatโs how itโs been ever since.โ
Eliโs eyes finally meet mine, dark and sparking, and he keeps me there.
He remembers, too. The memory is so alive between us itโs touchable.
Maybe I didnโt give him all of me, but I gave him more than I ever gave anyone else, and instead of taking it back I locked it up. Now saying
anything about how we used to be, how much I loved him, feels like unlocking it again. Iโm scared heโs going to see what was left over when we broke up. Whatโs starting to spark again with a little bit of oxygen.
Itโs that thought that straightens my spine. โI love the peach, too, but passion fruit might be the winner.โ I raise an eyebrow at Eli. โDonโt you think?โ
Remember itโs Graceโs favorite and weโre here for her and Adam, not us? Remember that weโre playing a role?
He straightens, too, as if Iโve yelled it at both of us. The strip of napkin wrapped around his fingers is nearly dissolved, too flimsy to keep any kind of shape, if thatโs what he was trying to do.
โRight,โ he says. โThe peach bourbon is my personal favorite, but passion fruitโs the winner.โ
Tai nods with a smile. โItโs a great decision, though thereโs not a bad decision you could make in the bunch. My cakes are delicious.โ
โTheyโre incredible,โ I say. โWe would be so grateful ifโโ She waves me off. โSay no more. The cake is yours.โ
A flash of guilt hits me knowing weโre getting it under false pretenses, but itโs quickly replaced by relief. โIโm not going to, but just know that I could seriously kiss you right now. You have no idea what this means to us.โ
โItโs my pleasure,โ she says. โLetโs talk through the rest of the details and then weโll be all set.โ
The rest of the appointment flies by, and by the time weโre finished Iโm an exhausted, elated mess.
Once we get outside, I pull up Venmo so I can send Adam a payment request, just so he can see weโve crossed an item off the list.
โA win, finally,โ I say, darting a glance at Eli.
Heโs watching me, hands in his pockets, his expression unfathomable, but he flashes me a smile when our eyes meet. โQuick thinking with the fake-fiancรฉ thing.โ
I groan. โIโm sorry. That was a very impulsive thing to do.โ
โI meanโฆโ He lifts his shoulders and a thousand unsaid words fill the silence. In another life, it couldโve been real and we both know it. โIt worked, right?โ
โThank god she didnโt ask for a proposal story,โ I joke, and he laughs, but itโs soft and strange. He wipes a hand across his rough jaw.
โYeah, well. I probably couldโve come up with something,โ he says faintly.
Our gazes tangle. We played a dangerous game in there, and I only realize it now with my heart still racing. With Eli looking at me the way he is, full of memories.
He opens his mouth to speak, but his phone starts ringing in his back pocket. Itโs a flick on my forehead, a reminder made more urgent when he smiles wryly and says, โItโs the boss.โ
โThe boss?โ I echo, confused.
โAdam. Heโs FaceTiming,โ he clarifies, and I get it, becauseย thisย is our job. Not staring at each other thinking about the past, but staying firmly in the present to make sure Adam gets the best start to his future.
Right.
I go to Eliโs side, making sure to keep enough distance between our bodies that I wonโt be tempted to curl into him. โLetโs tell him the good news.โ