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She pulled away and frowned. “My pity? How about my gluttony? All I can think about are cinnamon rolls now.”
“I think I could whip up a batch.”
“Make two batches. I’ll sell the second when the café opens and see how they do.”
My mind instantly went to work, imagining my own baking business. Quiet mornings like this one. Just me and the dough. I could make—well, I could make bread. Who was I kidding? I didn’t have enough experience. It was better to dash my hopes now before they got too big.
I didn’t enjoy waking up this early, anyway. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking.
“What are you going to do?”
I shrugged and pulled up a cinnamon roll recipe on my phone. “Keep applying for a new job? I have two months’ rent saved up and Bash already insists on buying all the groceries, so I’m okay for now.”
“How are things going with Bash?”
“What do you mean?”
“Living with him? Just the two of you? It’s been years since Rob…” Her voice faded out like everyone’s did when my brother was mentioned.
It was as if they were scared to hurt me by mentioning his name. As if I didn’t know every moment of the day that he was gone.
“It’s going fine.”
“Have the two of you—you know—hooked up yet?”
“Roxie! We’re just friends.”
“Yes, friends who want to fuck each other.”
I threw a piece of bread at her, but she caught it and shoved it in her mouth. “You know it’s true. Quit fighting it.”
My phone buzzed, and I jumped when I saw Sebastian’s name on the screen.
“Why are you blushing?” Roxie peered over and laughed. “He can’t hear those filthy thoughts.”
“Roxie!”
“Unless you want him to hear—in that case, tell him.”
“Stop it!”
“I need to go set up for the morning.” She blew a kiss over her shoulder as she walked away. “I’ll give you some privacy while you talk to your boo.”
I glared at her as I answered the phone.
“Hey, Em. The Evergreens have an open position I think you would be perfect for—”
“Goalie, right?” I held up a hand even though he couldn’t see me. “These natural mitts would be perfect for blocking shots.”
He laughed, the sound like molten honey. “No, that position’s filled. The team needs a social media manager. You’re always taking great shots and you come up with funny captions. I told them you’d be perfect—”
“Bash! I post like three things a year.” I jumped up and steadied the stool that rocked in my wake. “You can’t lie to them—”
“Em, it’s not a lie. I love the shots you take.”
My face burned, and I wanted to tell him no. But I hadn’t had a good job lead in weeks and I knew how fast my savings would run out.
“What do I need to do?”
