I stand from my chair, ready to be at her beck and call. But because I have manners, I first address the table before I leave. “Always a pleasure.”
I’m about to guide Lia out the door when she turns back around and says, “Also, the club is probably one of the ugliest places I’ve ever seen, and nothing about it is elitist other than trying to look elite.” She then reaches toward the table, palms the chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, and scoops it into her hand. “I’m taking this with me because it’s the only decent flavor on the platter.”
And then she turns and walks out the door, me trailing her with the biggest fucking smile on my face.
“Holy shit,” I say as we reach my car. “Lia, I can’t fucking believe you did that.”
She’s shaking and pacing as she holds the cake in her palm. “Oh my God, oh my God . . . did I just say all of those things?”
I grip her shoulders, stopping her from moving, and bend at the waist to look her in the eyes. “You fucking did and, Jesus Christ, I’m so proud of you.”
“You are?” Her lip trembles, and I can see that the adrenaline is starting to wear off.
“Yes, Lia. That was so fucking amazing and well-deserved. Jesus, my nipples got hard in there listening to you.”
That makes her smile. “Hard nipples, really?” I thrust my chest out at her, and with her non-cake-filled hand, she runs her fingers over the hardened nub. “It is hard.”
“See. Hell, I’m so proud of you. How do you feel?”
She nods, her head bobbing lightly. “I feel . . . I feel good.” Her eyes connect with mine. “Free.”
And that makes me smile. I pick her up and twirl her around as I press my head close to hers while she holds the cake out.
“We need to celebrate.”
I set her down, and she holds the cake between us. “I have cake.”
“I think we need more than just cake, but yes, let’s eat.”
She lifts her hand to her mouth and takes a large bite before offering it to me. I second the bite and together, while standing in front of my car, we eat her stolen cake out of the palm of her hand.
After a few moments, she says, “I think I know what I want to do.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Grab some pizza for lunch, lots and lots of hard cider, go back to your place, and play Plunder.”
“That’s how you want to celebrate?”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better idea,” she says, meeting me once again with that beautiful smile.
“Then let’s eat some pizza and play Plunder.” I open the door for her and grab a few napkins from my glove compartment for her cake hand, and while I help her clean up, I ask, “Just want to make sure, are you happy? You just called off a wedding and broke up with Brian.”
Her eyes meet mine as she says, “I am. It was the right move, thanks for checking.”
“As long as you’re good, then let’s celebrate.”
“I’m good. Promise.”
Holy fuck. Holy fuck.
Holy.
Fuck!
I pace my bedroom as Lia gets changed at her apartment. After we left the bakery, we went to our favorite pizza place, ordered two large pizzas—one sausage with onions, the other pineapple and pepperoni—ran by the store for two twelve-packs of Angry Orchard, and then came straight home. She said she was going to take a quick rinse in the shower, because she felt gross after being in the bakery, and change.
Which leaves me here, staring at my phone, waiting for my brothers to text me back.
Finally, my phone dings, and I swipe at it to read the message.
JP: Wait, she broke up with him right there in the bakery, ring and all? Holy shit.
I type back in a fury just as my phone dings with another message, this one from Huxley.
Huxley: Wow. I have nothing to say other than wow.
Breaker: Yeah, tell me about it. I was in awe, and my nipples got hard.
JP: I appreciate a hard nipple on a man. Shows me that he registers with his emotions.
Huxley: You need help.
JP: Just telling it like it is.
Breaker: Can we not go on a tangent? I have minutes before she comes over, and I need to know what to do.
Huxley: What do you mean you need to know what to do? She just broke up with her fiancé and called her wedding off. You do nothing. You be a friend.
JP: Uh yeah, dude. Were you thinking about making a move? That’s fucking tacky as shit. Give her a second to mourn before you go sniffing around, letting her know you want to bone.
Breaker: First of all, I just don’t want to bone. Second of all, I’m already keeping my self-control on a short leash. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.