Ember’s arm was immediately around his shoulder, her lips went to his temple as if it was an emotional fire drill and she was taking her position. Only this wasn’t a drill. Tears streamed down her face, and I watched her bite her lip, keeping her emotions silent and letting Bo work through his. She squeezed him harder as she kissed him on the cheek, then the head before resting her chin on the top of his head and taking a deep breath of her own.
I cleared my throat, not having the energy to cry anymore today. “So, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to open it, or what, but Georgia encouraged me to. We went down to the pier and ... long story short, I passed out on her couch.”
Looking into the kitchen, I found Georgia leaning against the island, watching all of us with a lost and sad look on her face. I got up and walked over to her.
“Thank you.” I took her hands in mine and dipped my head so she was forced to look at me. “Thank you for being there for me today.”
“Of course.” She tried to sound nonchalant as she looked over her shoulder at Bo and Ember in their embrace. When her eyes came back to my face, she drew her eyebrows in for a moment before wrapping her arms around my neck and exhaling, “You’re welcome,” into my ear.
I squeezed her back. The warmth of her body was intoxicating. “I’m sorry about your cupcakes.”
“Did someone say cupcakes?” Bo’s voice chirped like a teenage girl and we all laughed.
Sometimes, you just have to laugh.
I nodded. “Georgia’s got a bakery downstairs.”
“Oh?” Ember walked around the back of the couch. “I was wondering about that. It’s adorable. There’s no sign, though...”
Georgia shifted on her feet, wringing her hands. “Yeah, it’s not technically open, but I fool around down there a lot.”
“You did say cupcakes, though, didn’t you, Regan?” Bo stood and wiped under his eyes a final time.
“They’re delicious, too.”
Georgia slapped my shoulder. “How would you know? You haven’t had one.”
“Well, I’ve had those blueberry muffins. I trust your talent transfers from baked good to baked good. Let’s take these two downstairs, I know you have all of those cupcakes left from this morning.” I don’t know what I wanted more, to see Georgia in her element, or to step away from the letter for a few minutes.
Before she could answer, Bo was already at the door. “You said cupcakes. I want cupcakes. I might not always verbalize my feelings—”
“Yes, you do,” Ember cut in with a smile.
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes as I chuckled. “Fine. I might always verbalize my feelings, but whatever they are, cupcakes make them better.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“What’s with his sweet tooth all of a sudden?” I asked Ember.
“You know ... I don’t bake, my parents used to think sugar was evil, I just ... there are no cupcakes in my life.”
“None?” Georgia nearly shouted.
Ember shrugged. “I try. I just ... can’t”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” For someone who said more nonsensical things than anyone I’d ever met, Georgia sounded serious about this. She breezed past Ember, and then stopped in front of Bo at the door, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go get you a cupcake.”
Georgia
It was innocent at first, bringing the grieving friends into my bakery for some confection-type comfort. But, as I watched the three of them eating cupcake after cupcake in one of the booths, laughing their way through memories of their lost sister, friend, and girlfriend, I started to feel like my own skin was too tight.
I didn’t belong here. With them. It wasn’t my scene. Friends. Laughter. Especially not given the fact that next week I’d start taking my mother to her shock therapy a few times a week. I was built for solitude, though the structure around me suggested that, at least at one point, I’d wanted this.
Life ... around me.
“Hey, you.” Regan walked into the kitchen, fetching the last of the cupcakes from the porcelain cake stand. “Told you they were delicious.” He took a gluttonous bite and smiled.
There were no butterflies in my stomach as I watched him smile. No thumpety-thump of my heart. When I watched the tip of his tongue snag a stray drop of icing from the corner of his lips, there was none of that light and bubbly flirty feeling. It was heavy. So suffocatingly heavy was my need to be curled up on the couch with him again that I had to get out of there. It was too late to make a graceful exit, though, since Regan seemed to see my cheeks go flush.
“What’s the matter?” He set the cupcakes down as Bo and Ember laughed softly in their booth and walked toward me.
I swallowed hard. We had to have the conversation. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“About what?”
I wiped my palms on my jeans. “The couch ... I—”
Regan shook his head. “It’s okay. It felt ... nice to wake up next to you.”
“Nice?” I pulled my head back and scrunched my forehead. After the reading of the letter from his dead girlfriend, how could he ... just ... how?
He swallowed audibly and took a deep breath. “Yes. Nice. It was nice to wake up next to someone. To feel the warmth of another body next to mine...” He ran his hand up the top part of my arm.