“But ... Rae. Your letter.”
He nodded. “Rae wrote a letter to me. It’s not like she wrote it from beyond the grave, although it felt a hell of a lot like that as I read it. I just need to process what she said, and make peace with it.”
He squeezed my arm a little as he said the words, like he was trying to say something else, but before I could interpret anything Ember stuck her head into the kitchen.
“Georgia. These cupcakes are so good. Can you give me the recipe? Bo’s already sad that he’s about to eat his last one.”
I stepped back from Regan’s hold. He didn’t seem to give a shit what Bo and Ember thought about his boundaries with me. It was uncomfortable for me to be around someone so unashamed of every action, with no apparent need to cover anything up. He twisted his lips a little as I moved around him, but he dropped his hand without a fight.
“I can give you the recipe but you’ll probably have to spend some time at the grocery store. I’m not sure if Regan told you, but everything is gluten-free.”
Ember’s mouth dropped open and she shouted to Bo. “Did you hear that, Bo? She said everything here is gluten-free! My parents would have a field day!”
“Excellent, where’s my gluten-free goodness?” His impatience made me smile inside.
“Calm yourself, sweetie. Georgia,” she turned back to me, beaming, “you have to make some of these for our recording session. And some muffins. And bread. Do you make bread?”
“Yes,” I chuckled, “I make bread. Do your parents have Celiac or something?” Her enthusiasm over my ingredients was intriguing.
She waved her hand. “I ate homemade wheat bread from the fields of the farm we lived at most of my childhood. Made by my mom. All of a sudden it’s an issue for them. Whatever. It’s more my mom than my dad. He’ll be thrilled to have something sweet.”
“Oh, Georgia, that would be wicked. Please do it.” Regan shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth.
“Okay. What time do you record tomorrow? I’ll make some of the stuff tonight and the rest in the morning.” It felt good to be wanted rather than needed.
Ember picked up the last two cupcakes. “I’m going to bring these into the other room. Regan can just bring the goods with him when he comes tomorrow. Regan,” Ember raised an eyebrow to him, “be nice to her. This food is delicious.”
I felt worse by the minute for having misjudged Ember’s character due to a few shitty days she’d had. While I didn’t envision us ever sitting around painting each other’s nails, I no longer wanted to claw her face. It was progress.
“They’ll pay you, too, you know.” Regan wiped crumbs from the counter and tossed them in the trash.
“Oh ... that’s not why I said yes,” I spoke quickly, not wanting him to misjudge my intentions. Especially since I didn’t even know what my intentions were.
He laughed. I could get lost in that sound. It was deeper than his speaking voice, but full of this mouthwatering joy. “I know that’s not why, but I’m just saying ... maybe if you do it regularly enough, word will get around and you can, like, run this place full time.”
I looked through to the seating area and watched Bo and Ember. They looked noticeably more relaxed than I’d seen them even in their own oceanside environment. My mom and her mom had been right; food brings people together, and sweet food is even better.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, glancing up at Regan’s face.
“Why haven’t you opened it? The real reason.” He leaned sideways against the counter and crossed his arms in front of him.
I wanted to make something up. But, given the events of the day that had him crying in front of me more than once, lying to him seemed particularly horrendous. I couldn’t get in to it with Bo and Ember here, though. They were surrounded by hippies all day and took no issue with weeping in front of strangers. It wasn’t that I planned on crying, but I’d have to be more honest with them than I’d ever even intended on being with Regan in the first place.
“We can wait till they leave, if you want. But, I want you to talk about it, okay?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been staring for so long at the loving couple until Regan spoke.
I nodded. “Yeah. When they go. Go hang out with your friends. I’ll clean up in here.”
I bought myself some time. Time to come up with a story. One that would have been a lot easier to come up with had I not curled up on the couch with him, and inhaled the saltiness on his skin that made me miss home. And his lips. God. It had been so long since I’d felt lips against mine, I was certain they’d burst with eagerness.
Looking out at their booth, I caught Regan mid-smile and it honestly took my breath away. Hours earlier he’d been the saddest human being I’d ever seen in the flesh. How could he turn it around so quickly? How could he move forward—so open and not boxed in by his pain?
Maybe I wanted that. That was the only explanation for why I was turning over in my mind ways to keep him around.