The Natural History of Us (The Fine Art of Pretending #2)

This is Annabeth we’re talking about. If things get messy, she’ll just refurnish the place.

“I just finished a batch of brownies,” Aly says, wrapping her arm around my elbow like we’ve been friends forever. “The two of you are my new taste testers. Since the guys took the first baby shift, they’re all down by the beach. Already we’ve had diaper changes, feedings, and burping. Plus, these things breathe, Peyton. I’m calling it now, y’all. They’re gonna drive us crazy by tomorrow.”

Then to Cade she says, “Just leave those bags there for now, because dessert awaits!”

He gives her an amused smile and does as she says, sending me a subtle wink. Already things feel lighter between us… and I have Aly to thank for it. Releasing a relieved breath, I smile at my new friend and follow my nose into the kitchen.

Of course, it’s beyond ridiculous. Marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and more snacks than I’ve ever seen at one time. Aly’s mom is a caterer, so I shouldn’t be surprised, and as I said, the girl is known for her snacks. I spy the tray of brownies in question on the stovetop and my stomach grumbles.

Dropping my arm, Aly slides over to the goods. “Justin put me in charge of all things snackage this weekend since it’s my thing, and I want you both to give me your honest opinion.” She selects two giant squares and sets them each on a napkin. “Tell me if they’re too bold or too much.”

“I feel like those two words will never apply to chocolate anything,” I confess and accept the gift of fudgy goodness.

The brownie is moist, that’s obvious just from looking at it, and when I lift it to my mouth my fingers sink into the soft texture. My taste buds prep themselves for a happy dance. Then the rich scent of cocoa hits my senses and I close my eyes in bliss.

“Holy crap!”

A surprising burst of orange hits my tongue and I moan, taking another bite, hoping my sprung-open eyes tell Aly everything she needs to know, because I refuse to stop eating for something as silly as words. Seriously. Roll out a sleeping bag, call it a day, I’m good to go camping in the kitchen.

“You like it?”

I exaggerate a head nod, and Aly bounces on her sneakers. “Really? See, normally, I’m a brownie purist. Cookies, cupcakes, tarts; I go wild with those, but brownies are my religion. But the other day I saw a recipe on Pinterest and it sparked my imagination.” She raises an eyebrow and says, “That site is addictive… for realz.”

“They’re incredible,” I mumble, mouth filled with orange-flavored chocolate. “What’s in here? How did you get it to taste like this? I swear it looks like a normal brownie.”

Aly leans in with wide eyes. “The secret is orange marmalade. Fun, right?”

I nod my agreement and gather every possible crumb, pressing my fingertip into the moist morsels and licking without shame. I consider tonguing my napkin, too, but decide that may be too weird, so instead I break the edge off Cade’s remaining sliver and smile around my bite. He laughs and hands the whole thing over, blowing me a kiss.

He’s good people.

Aly watches our exchange with happy yet curious eyes, and I can’t help wondering how much she knows. She and Justin parted as friends, surprising since other than me, I never knew him to have friends who are girls.

“These are delicious,” Cade tells her, and she smiles in gratitude.

“Thanks. When you have a wicked sweet tooth, you learn how to bake pretty quickly.”

Male laughter floats through the open window and Aly glances outside. She pushes off the marble counter and says, “We better get y’all settled. Girls take over parenting duty in thirty minutes. You ready to be a mommy, Peyton?”

No. No, I’m not… “I can barely contain my joy.”

Cade links our fingers as we follow Aly back toward the door to get our bags.

“Is your baby-daddy here for the weekend?” he asks her, shocking me with his teasing. I’m almost positive if Justin referred to himself as my “baby-daddy?,” Cade would go ballistic.

“Yep,” she says. “Drew’s on the team with the guys.”

Catching her smirk I ask, “How’s Brandon handling you being married to his best friend?”

“About as well as Gabi’s handling Lauren,” Aly replies with a snort. “He knows nothing is going on, but sometimes, hmm, how do I put this…” She scrunches her nose and squints one eye. “Brandon’s jealous tendencies tend to overrule his common sense.”

Somewhere inside a voice screams, “I so get that,” even as another voice yells out, “so not the same thing!”

Our situations are completely different. One, Drew and Aly never dated. Two, Drew is in love with his girlfriend Sarah, and Aly and Brandon are Fairfield’s super couple. Three, Brandon and Drew don’t try and send ocular laser missiles whenever they’re within two feet of each other.

And four, I’m sure Aly doesn’t get butterflies every time she thinks Drew’s name.

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