Baking Me Crazy (Donner Bakery, #1)(46)

A simple conversation about candy had me reeling, and I felt crazy because of it.

Every single time Levi ate Twizzlers, he told me they were terrible. But he still always stocked them for me, simply because he knew I loved them.

When he knew I was going to get my period, he bought two bags.

When I was going in for a big doctor's appointment, he brought one over to me.

Because he was my best friend.

My best friend, who was taking me out for an expensive steak dinner where crisp white tablecloths covered the tables and the silverware was shiny and expensive. Each table would definitely have candles, providing soft and romantic lighting in the restaurant. I'd sit on one side, staring over at the man who knew what kind of tampons I used, how much I hated peas, and how avocados make me sick to my stomach because I'd puked one up in his bathroom after he made guacamole.

Twice, he'd told me I looked beautiful, and he'd shaved his handsome face, put on a nice shirt, and picked me up so that I wouldn't feel like the pathetic girl who'd never been on a first date.

That unsteady feeling was in my head because I couldn't reconcile these two versions of the man I knew so well.

It was like I was trying to combine a color picture with one in black and white, but it was supposed to be one seamless shot.

In the pool, I stared at his chest and wanted to bite it.

At his place, he made me watch the same movies over and over because he knew I was too lazy to pick something else.

When we got to the restaurant, I knew he'd pulled the truck into a parking spot toward the back of the lot because he knew I hated using the handicap spot when I was out with him.

And because I was a terrible, thoughtless person—who didn't know how to deal with big scary emotions like the ones threatening to make my eyeballs leak all over and who didn't know how to package them neatly and label them in a way that my brain and heart could filter them better—the words spilled out before I could even process what I was saying.

"So if this is my first real date, am I supposed to pretend you're someone else?"

I never would have said it, thought it, or even contemplated it if I'd been with anyone other than Levi. And when he froze, when he puffed out air like I'd just punched him in the stomach, I knew with unerring certainty how badly I'd just screwed up.





Chapter 16





Levi





There was no hiding my reaction to her words, just like she couldn't stop the horrified widening of her eyes or the way she covered her mouth as soon as she saw me.

"I-I didn't mean it like that," she said on a rush.

There weren't words for how I felt. For how she'd just made me feel. I swiped a hand over my mouth and breathed in and out through my nose.

Because I knew her, rationally I could understand there was no ill intention behind what she'd said. No malice. But intention only went so far when the person you loved said something that made it feel like they took a baseball bat to your lungs. Then ran you over with a car for good measure.

My first instinct was to make her feel better by laughing it off. My second instinct, stronger and darker, was to get in her face until she had no choice but to see. See why I was doing this, and why I wanted to be here with her more than any place I could possibly be.

I dropped my hand and gave her a quick look.

"Levi," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"What did you mean to say?" I asked quietly. This time, I wouldn't overlook it. This time, I wouldn't swallow down my pride so she didn't feel bad for saying something shitty.

Joss took a deep breath and knit her fingers together in her lap. For a second, she stared down at them, then lifted her eyes up to mine.

"I don't know how I feel." She blinked, shook her head a couple of times. "Right now. On this … date or whatever. I don't know how to feel about the fact that it's you. And you know me better than anyone, Levi."

My hands ached to touch her, to cup her face and pull her into my arms because she looked so miserable as she said it.

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" I asked.

When she didn't answer my earnestly spoken question, I turned and faced her. One arm stretched along the back of the seat, the other hung on the top of the wheel, and between us, the stretch of the seat bench seemed like it was a mile long.

Joss was breathing fast, her lips closed and tight with tension. She was so beautiful, even with the bright sheen of fear and uncertainty surrounding her. Big feelings had always been terrifying to Joss, so her inability to answer right away didn't surprise me. It didn't even really scare me.

I drummed fingers on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. "Because the way I see it, Sonic, there's no way in the world it can be a bad thing." I kept my voice easy, my tone steady, and my body casual and loose. "The worst part of going on a date with someone new is that you have no idea if it's going to be the longest two hours of your life, or if you'll walk out of that dinner feeling like you met the person you're going to marry."

Her eyes watched me, guarded and wary.

Evening sky over the edge of the Smoky Mountains blue.

In that wariness, I knew that this was my moment. Her fear, strange as it might have seemed, was exactly what I needed to feel like I could take a step, just one single step over the clearly defined line of our friendship.