Chapter 37
“He made you pancakes?!” Vivi cried as I carried the plate and coffee into the kitchen, setting it on the small table.
"Yes," I grumbled, trying to be bitter about it. Key word, trying. I’d already peeked under the plate cover, then quickly covered it again so that I didn’t have to witness the full force of what was hiding beneath.
“You’re going to eat them, right? Are they still hot?”
“Warm, yeah.” I lifted the mug and took a sip, then groaned. “Oatmeal cookie,” I whispered.
“You’re joking right?! Flavored coffee?”
“Vivi,” I snapped. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Girl, I am on your side. I’m also freaking starving for pancakes.”
A small smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “Wanna split them?”
“Tcha! Yes. You bet your freaking life I do.”
We pulled up chairs and forks. Beneath the plate cover, we found four fluffy, perfectly formed pancakes topped with expertly arranged sliced strawberries, a generous side of bacon, and syrup.
“Aww, he arranged the strawberries like flowers!”
“Vivi!” I snapped. “Not. Helping.”
“Right. Sorry. Fuck him! Who plates food like this? We should mess it up.” With that, she grabbed the syrup, doused the pancakes, then cut into them.
I snickered, waiting. Her groan made me grin.
“Oh. My. Fuck!” She said through a mouthful, then swallowed.
“Is that…vanilla? And almond extract? And cinnamon too? What the fuck are these?!”
I sighed, sinking low into my chair. “The best pancakes in the world. That’s what. Ugh.”
“You should demand a thousand of them, in penance for what he did. Pancakes every single day—for the rest of your life. And…don’t forget about your friends.”
I rolled my eyes, then took a forkful and shoved it in my mouth. I didn’t bother hiding my own groan of delight. These were especially good, like he’d really pulled out all the stops to make them perfect.
“I fucking hate him,” I groused. “For being so goddamn perfect, and then being an asshole at the same time.”
We spent the rest of our meal talking shit about how amazing Bastian’s pancakes were and how much we hated him for it. Turns out, that was exactly what my heart needed. Damn that goblin!
Vivi insisted that I do everything as normally as possible, so that’s how I found myself at my martial arts studio later that afternoon, and then at Awake Coffee, grabbing drinks.
I was waiting in line when I felt a tug at my abdomen.
The sensation jolted through me, like someone was pulling out my insides.
I gasped and placed a hand over my stomach.
I glanced at my phone. Bastian hadn’t texted me all day. Shouldn’t he have?
In a moment of weakness I wasn’t proud of, I opened my texts and fired one off.
Thanks for the pancakes. They were amazing. I’m still mad at you. Don’t think this fixes anything.
There. That would set matters straight. I considered adding something about how, maybe, if he sent me pancakes every morning, it might help me figure things out faster.
But at last, I decided not to push it. I stared at the screen for a moment, but nothing came in response.
I slipped it into my pocket and stepped up to the counter, placing my order with Tara.
“Excited for girls night tonight?” Vivi had let it slip that she’d invited her.
“Yes! Should I bring anything?”
I grinned. “Just yourself. Well, and maybe a bottle of wine.”
“Vivi told me you were having boy trouble.”
I snorted. “Of course she did.”
“So… Maybe I should bring two bottles of wine?”
“One is fine. If I have too much, I’ll end up drunk dialing him in the middle of the night.”
“Been there, done that,” she joked.
I paid for my order and went to wait for our drinks. Vivi, bless her, had sent out the call. Those of us who were scheduled to work, (Kaylee, cough-cough) decided to make various excuses about being ill so that we could all be together.
Admittedly, I was looking forward to it. As much as I wanted to mope around, eat ice cream out of a container, wear PJs, leave my makeup a mess, and lounge in bed watching TV for the foreseeable future, this would be good for me.
The door bell rang later that evening and Vivi began buzzing people up.
Soon, the couch was filled. Amira, Kaylee, Mikka, Tara, Yvonne, and Vivi gathered around me.
Three bottles of open wine sat on the coffee table, along with one of Vivi’s famous charcuterie boards.
I took a sip of Chardonnay, trying not to think of Bastian. He still hadn’t responded to my text.
Vivi had music playing in the background while we all caught up on each other’s lives.
Amira worked with Vivi at the museum. She’d moved to Walton after college.
She and Vivi had immediately hit it off, despite being polar opposites of each other.
Where Vivi was easy going, Amira was tight laced and extremely organized.
They’d bonded over their love of books and the rest was history.
Kaylee worked with me, but also held a day job as a receptionist in a dental office.
I’d seen her in her usual pencil skirt and cute little blouses.
Mikka was Tara’s best friend, someone she’d known since childhood, who worked in the engineering sector.
She beat everyone for brains and beauty, with a Ph.D in mechanical engineering and a delicate bone structure.
But it was her big cartoon-ish eyes that made me weep with jealousy.
Tara didn’t just work the front counter at Awake Coffee, she was the co-owner. She’d opened the shop with her mom. They were a power team, with her mom baking in the back while Tara managed most of the scheduling, finances, and front counter. Talk about a boss bitch!
Lastly, there was Yvonne. She was a dark-skinned beauty who worked in hospitality, though she used to serve drinks with me at Vortex.
She had moved on, now managing staff at one of Walton’s premier hotels, The Wisteria.
Her sharp tongue, good listening skills, and attention to detail made it easy to see why she’d been promoted so quickly.
I had to admit, every woman in this room was pretty badass.
We were all human, and none of us had been born wealthy.
But we’d managed to make good lives for ourselves…
except, perhaps, me. There were definitely times where I felt like the weakest link.
I probably made less than all of them and didn’t feel like my career was as impressive as theirs.
But I tried not to let that bother me. And they never once made me feel inferior.
To everyone here, I was Rose. I’d met all of them, except for Vivi, after my life with Luke had shattered into a billion pieces.
Vivi had been careful to keep up the ruse when we were all together, but I was growing tired of it.
So when it was my turn to speak, I said, “There’s something I need to tell you guys. ”
And because they were all so freaking amazing—and I was so damn lucky to have them—they all sat quietly while I told them exactly what had happened with Luke (the abridged version), and why I’d changed my name.
"Girl, if you think we didn't already suspect you'd changed your name," Yvonne said, throwing her arms around me, "you’re delusional.” She sat on my right and was the first to react. "The way you hesitate sometimes when people call you Rose? We noticed."
I nervous-laughed into her shoulder and hugged her back.
“Does this mean we can’t call you Rose anymore,” Mikka said, pouting. Her huge eyes narrowed. “I liked Rose. It goes with that amazing rosy hair.”
I burst out laughing. “Yes,” I managed, a weight lifting from my chest. “If you want.”
“You look like an Elle to me,” Amira said. “It suits you. But I’ll probably still accidentally call you Rose.”
“You guys are so amazing,” I breathed. “You’re not…mad?”
Kaylee scoffed. “You think we’d be mad about you trying to protect yourself?”
I opened and closed my mouth, relaxing into the couch.
Vivi sat on my left and leaned in, resting her chin on my shoulder for a second.
“See? Told you they’d take it well.” I simply lifted my eyebrows and grinned.
We’d briefly discussed it before they had come over, the potential of me finally coming clean.
Now that Luke had been apprehended, I felt safer about my best friends knowing.
“And they really caught the scumbag that hurt you?” Tara asked.
She sat on the fourth couch cushion, on Vivi’s left.
I didn’t miss the way their hands were creeping closer and closer.
Every time I glanced over, they were a centimeter nearer.
I wasn’t the only one to notice. I didn’t miss Mikka’s knowing glances, nor the gleam in her eyes.
Now, their fingers were practically touching.
I watched Tara's pinky twitch, like she was working up the courage to make contact, while Vivi seemed completely oblivious—or was pretending to be.
Part of my heart was soaring to see it, because I wanted them to happen so-freaking-bad. The other part of my heart was squeezing tight, because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was already missing Bastian. Missing my mate.
Fuck, that would take some getting used to. I pushed aside my thoughts of him and nodded, answering Tara’s question. “He was apprehended last night. Cops got him.”
“Damn. Thank goodness,” Tara breathed, her eyes darting between mine and Vivi’s. “That asshole deserves to rot in jail.”
I hadn’t told them all the details. Far from it.
All they knew was he’d hurt me badly and was now suspected of murdering both Professor Miller and Peter.
Oh, and also that he’d trashed our apartment.
They falsely believed that we’d managed to put it back together.
I didn’t reveal how badly it had been destroyed.
“So…” Yvonne said, “tell us about this Bastian guy.” Her eyes danced.
I knew it was coming, but that didn’t stop my stomach from dropping at the sound of his name.
None of us were in serious relationships, but they all dated around.
And if things went well tonight, maybe Tara and Vivi would become an item.
“Oh,” Vivi jumped in. “You have no idea what he did this morning. He—”
“—brought me apology pancakes,” I said, cutting her off. Vivi’s eyes widened, probably realizing what she’d been about to blurt. That he’d used magic to deliver said pancakes.
“Yes, right,” she said, recovering. “And they were the best fucking pancakes I’ve ever tasted. Like, restaurant quality. Better, even. You know, something you get at those bougie places with the strawberries arranged all fancy and such.”
“So he can cook?” Mikka asked.
“You have noooo idea.” I felt a pang of longing but forced myself to smile.
They wanted details, so I gave them as much as I could, shamelessly revealing a few of the naughty things he’d said. But I kept most of our sex life to myself. It felt private. Something Bastian and I had shared, something I wanted to keep between us.
As the night wore on, we moved to other topics.
I found myself grinning nonstop. It helped that I'd consumed several glasses of wine and enough cheese to give me a cheese-high.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, this time away from Bastian.
Being without him would allow me the space to think, to really figure out what I wanted.
Whether I wanted a mate. A freaking mate.
Perhaps it was time to hear him out about the bond—what it meant and why he hadn't told me. Did I want forever with him? My chest tightened, but for the first time, it wasn't from fear. It was from hope.