“Okay. Just checking.”
We step out into what’s left of the sunshine and Ember peers up at me, one hand shielding her eyes. “I’m sure there are worse things.”
I stare at her lips tipped up into a sweet smile. “Yes, there definitely are.”
Her keys jingle in her hand as she turns, heading in the opposite direction. “I’ll see ya, Vance.”
“Not if I see you first.”
I hear her laughter as she rounds the corner and wonder why the hell I’m still standing here, watching her, until she disappears.
I OFFER TROY a contrite smile as he opens the door. “Peace offering?” He barely glances at the giant piece of coconut cake, his favorite, before taking in my appearance. His eyes rove from my hair to the green Michael Kors wrap dress that I borrowed from Avery, to the Louboutin heels—also courtesy of my sister. I don’t fill out the dress as well as she does, but the push-up bra I’m wearing certainly helps.
“Number one. You’re forgiven. And number two,” he whistles a breath through his teeth, “you look smokin’ hot.” He pulls on my arm and tugs me inside, closing the door behind us. “Sit. I’ll be right back.” As he walks toward the kitchen, I plant myself on the couch and peel off the container lid. Shredded bits of fresh coconut stick to the sides, the smell heavenly. Troy returns with two forks and passes me one, dropping down on the sofa. “Please tell me you look like this because you had a lunch date?”
“Nope.” I stare down at my breasts on display and try to close the fabric tighter around them. Troy slaps my hand away.
“Stop. Honestly, Ems. You look amazing.” He brings a bite of cake to his lips with a big smile. “Again I ask, who is he?”
“There is no he,” I confess, sweeping cake onto my fork. “I was at that gallery opening in town and it was fantastic.”
“You went alone?”
“Yes.” My face twists in exaggeration. “I have no problem with my own company. I’m kind of decent sometimes.”
Troy bumps my shoulder with his own. “Now that’s an understatement.” He swirls his fork around the frosting while his eyes continue to probe. “So it was good?”
“It was great.” As I say the words, electricity flows through me and my limbs tingle. I set my fork down on the table, the cake losing its appeal. “There were quite a few local artists and mostly paintings and photography, but still….”
“But still, what?”
I glance away for a second, staring out the small window to the front yard. “I just got so energized, you know? I’d love to someday be able to have pieces of mine in a gallery. Or—”
“Have your own gallery.” My gaze drifts back to Troy as he reads my thoughts, his enthusiasm contagious.
“Yes.”
“I see it, Ems. I want that for you. I want all good things for you.” He covers my small hand with his large one. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks.” I move closer to kiss his cheek and his smile tickles my chin. “Your turn. Tell me how Samantha is.”
His lips tug into a deep frown and he falls back against the sofa. “It didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“Because she doesn’t like the fact that I’m also into guys.” He sighs, scraping two fingers down the front of his jeans. “She said she wouldn’t be able to get past it and doesn’t want to start anything.”
A fire lights in my belly because Troy is one of the best people I know. I mimic his position on the couch and lay my head on his shoulder. “She’s an idiot then and she doesn’t deserve you.” He places a gentle kiss against my hair. “So let’s not waste time talking about her. Did you sign up for those carpentry classes?”
“Yesterday.”
“It’s about time. And who knows? Pretty soon you might be doing projects with my dad. He’d be happy to have you on board.” I snort, and he elbows me in the ribs. “By the way, that sculpture presentation went really well,” I mention as I start to squirm, tugging at the belt around my waist.
“What are you doing?”
“This dress.” I pull at the fabric, trying to stretch it out. “It’s just… I’m not used to wearing stuff like this. It’s uncomfortable.”
“It looks like it was made for you. In fact, I really think you need to put this dress to good use.” He smoothes a hand over my thigh. “You can’t let it go to waste.”
“We could go to the grocery store.” I tease. “Hang out in the produce aisle or something. But Avery will kill me if I get her dress stained.”
“You need to go out on a date,” he prompts. “It’s good for the soul.”
“My soul is just fine. Anyway, not to change the subject.” Sitting up, I angle my body toward him. “Sorry about missing our dinner the other day.”