2. Lizzy
LIZZY
“So,” Zoey says as she weaves through traffic like she has eyes around her entire head.
I grip the door as I press my toes into the bottoms of my boots, hoping she isn’t going to get us killed. “So…” The words come out strangled as my life flashes before my eyes.
“Mason,” she says.
I knew where this conversation was going before she said his name. I’m surprised we haven’t had it earlier.
“What’s going on there?” she asks.
I turn my head to the side and smile. Mason makes my toes curl. Not only is he handsome as hell, he’s sweet too. But I wouldn’t expect anything less when it comes to a Gallo.
I haven’t known the family long, but there isn’t a single member who isn’t kind and warm. I’ve never felt so welcomed, not even with my own family. The Gallos took us in immediately, and now I look forward to coming to Chicago to see the people I consider mine, even if we don’t share any blood.
“I like him.” My voice is small, like I’m telling her a secret I haven’t voiced to anyone else in the world and have barely admitted to myself.
“Do you like him like him or like him like him ?”
“He gives me butterflies.” I regret that little admission as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
Another thing I know about the family is there’s no such thing as secrets. Hunter told me as much, and I’ve experienced the transparency with which they operate for months now.
“Girrrrrl,” Zoey says, drawing out the word before she jerks the car to the side to switch lanes.
I nearly yelp in surprise and clutch my chest as I try to calm my racing heart. “Zo, babe, I kinda want to live to see another day,” I tell her, hoping my words are sweet enough not to upset her, but also to let her know she’s driving like a lunatic.
“Show no fear,” she mutters. “I got you. Don’t worry. I’m an expert Chicago driver.”
“Okay,” I whisper and curl my fingers around the door handle a little tighter as if it’s somehow going to protect me from the force of smashing into another thousand-pound object.
“Your brother gives me butterflies too,” she says, but I already know that. No one says yes to marrying a man who doesn’t make their belly flutter. She carries on the conversation like we aren’t defying death with each passing foot of roadway.
“Where are we headed first?” I ask, wanting to change the subject away from Mason and any feelings, even confusing ones, I have about him.
The pull I feel toward him is immense. I’ve tried for months to fight it, but my strength is starting to falter. If things go to shit, which, in all likelihood, they will, it could complicate my brother’s life since Zoey is Mason’s cousin.
I’ve never been a casual type of relationship girlie either. A few times, I’ve thought about giving it a go with Mason, but I’ll end up with a broken heart, and I don’t want that for me either.
“We’re grabbing Lulu and then heading to the bakery first to taste cakes.”
“Hunter didn’t want to come?” I’m surprised. The man loves cake more than most people, and his sweet tooth is something that’s turned my stomach a time or two in my life as he gorged himself on sugary candy.
“He said he didn’t care which one I picked because he loves them all.”
“Typical,” I mumble. “The man even likes coconut cake.” I shiver at the thought. There’s something about that extra-sweet cake with shredded coconut that has my sensory issues working overtime.
“Ick.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
We turn a corner, the back end of the car fishtailing from a patch of ice that hasn’t melted. My heart stutters in my chest as Zoey regains control of the car.
“Those are fun,” she tells me with a quick glance.
I give her a tight smile, trying not to be a total shit in the pants, even though I’m wishing I could have an out-of-body experience right now instead of being trapped inside this car.
Maybe I’ll be lucky, and Lulu will drive us the rest of the way.
She has to be a better driver than Zoey. I can’t imagine many people worse.
“There she is,” Zoey says, ticking her chin toward the woman standing on the side of the road, jumping up and down while waving her arms wildly.
I’d know Lulu anywhere, and Zoey too. They’re beautiful woman who turn every head when they walk by. Between their pretty faces and perfect bodies…don’t even get me started on their amazing boobs.
“Is she driving?”
“Uh, no,” Zoey replies, killing all hopes that we are going to have a more stress-free ride to the bakery. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and it’ll be around the corner. It could happen, right?
Zoey slams on the brakes, swerving the car to the side, sliding to the curb like she’s a character in a video game.
Lulu bounces toward the car, climbing in the back seat before I have a chance to take a deep breath. “Heyyyy,” Lulu says, slamming the door as soon as she’s fully inside.
“Hey, sissy. Ready to roll?” Zoey asks, turning her upper half around to look at her sister.
“You know it. I’ve been dreaming of this cake day. It’s the best thing ever.”
My head jerks as Lulu bumps the back of my seat. “You okay? You look a little pale.”
“Fine. Fine,” I whisper, but I can’t find the energy to move or turn around to give her a smile.
“She’s new to my driving,” Zoey tells her sister as she turns back around and grips the steering wheel like the second half of the trip is going to be worse than the first.
Lulu laughs. “It’s why I sit in the back. I feel like it’s safer with her driving.”
“I’m not that bad,” Zoey tells her sister, looking at her in the rearview mirror.
“You are, though. Why do you think Dad gave up on teaching you? He said, and I quote, She thinks it’s a video game .”
Zoey chuckles. “He’s dramatic.”
My fingers curl into fists as I fight the urge to jump out of the car and spare myself a grisly death.
“He’s not dramatic enough,” Lulu replies as she clicks her seat belt into place. “I’m ready. Let’s go. I have cake to eat.”
Thirty minutes and three near misses of other cars later, we’re inside the bakery. I’ve never been so thankful to be out of a car in my entire life. I think my little niece Amira could drive more cautiously than Zoey. I’d put money on it.
“Anyone want to do drinks later?” Lulu asks as we sit at a table, waiting for the woman to bring out our first set of taste tests.
“I’m game, but this one has a date with Mason.” Zoey pitches her thumb at me. “At eight. They’re going to dinner.”
“Ooh,” Lulu whispers. “This is getting exciting.”
“It’s not a date,” I say a little too quickly and crisply. “We’re friends.”
“He gives you butterflies,” Zoey says.
Lulu’s eyebrows rise. “No shit. Really?”
“Really,” Zoey answers for me.
“Damn. I love that,” Lulu replies.
I might as well not be here. They’re talking around me and not to me.
It’s fine, though, because I don’t want to talk about the huge crush I have on their cousin that will go absolutely nowhere.
We live hundreds of miles apart. Nothing could come of whatever the attraction we have is.
His life is here…in the big city, and mine is back home where no speed limit is over twenty-five miles per hour, and I have to drive a half hour to the nearest store.
“You two have hung out a lot,” Lulu says to me, finally bringing me into the conversation.
“A few times.”
“More than a few times, and butterflies is huge, babe. Huge.” Lulu knocks my shoulder with hers. “My cousin is a good egg. Sometimes he’s a dipshit, but that’s because he has balls. For the most part, he’s solid.”
“He’s just been showing me around some of the great food places here in the city. He says they’re hidden gems that he doesn’t like to share with anyone.”
Lulu leans back, crossing her arms as she studies me. “He has butterflies too, then.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask. “It’s been mostly pizza and beer.”
“Because I’ve never seen Mason take anyone to his hidden gems. No one but you.”
I make a little noise, but I have nothing to say to that.
“Did you two sleep together yet?” she asks.
I’m only mildly stunned by the question. Again, the Gallos are oversharers, and the topics are not always appropriate.
“No,” I reply as I pick at the red polish that I somehow got on the skin of my index finger.
Lulu gasps. “No?”
I shake my head. “We’re friends.”
“Bullshit,” she mutters.
“Pizza doesn’t mean anything,” I tell Lulu.
“But butterflies for both of you does. Him not sleeping with you does. Him taking you to hidden gems does.”
“Is there anything that doesn’t?” I ask her.
Lulu shrugs. “I’ve known him his entire life. The man doesn’t move slow, and he’s moving real damn slow. There’s a reason for that.”
“Because we’re friends.”
Lulu and Zoey chuckle in unison, but before they can say anything else, the woman walks out of the back, carrying a tray filled with cake slices. My mouth instantly waters at the heavenly scent.
“Here are the three finalists,” she explains as she sets the tray on the table and starts to hand out the plates. “The white with the strawberry is the cassata. Then we have the chocolate overload. And last but not least, we have the Chantilly.”
They’re all beautiful in their own right. I’ve never been a dessert girlie, but a spread like this could have me changing my mind. How my brother would pass on this is beyond me.
“Why didn’t Hunter come?” Lulu asks the same question I did.
“He helped pick these three. He couldn’t decide and told me to surprise him.”
“Good man,” Lulu replies.
“He is,” Zoey says with the biggest smile. “I don’t know how I got so damn lucky.”
“It’s your boobs,” Lulu tells her. “They’re a magnet.”
I giggle immediately.
“They’re great, right?” Lulu asks me for confirmation.
“You both have great tits,” I reply, earning myself a smile from them.
“Boobs are overrated. Don’t get me started on the back pain that comes with them. And then there’s pregnancy boobs.” Lulu shakes her head. “The worst.”
“Don’t talk about pregnancy. Don’t jinx me like that,” Zoey tells her sister as she picks up her fork.
“You ladies are too damn cute,” the bakery lady says before she tells us to take our time and enjoy the cakes.
“First, the cassata,” Zoey says.
I’m thankful for a change in conversation. Cake is a safer topic. One I could go on about forever because it’s way less complicated.
I am older than Zoey and Lulu, with no hope of being in Zoey’s shoes anytime soon. I’ve been in a few relationships, but each one naturally fell apart with time—or the guy cheated on me when I already knew the relationship was over but didn’t have the heart to end it before he strayed.
I always thought I’d be married by thirty, but the world has had other plans for me.
Now, I’m not settling. I want everything and won’t accept anything less.
I have always pictured my wedding day, my stomach fluttering with anticipation of my happily ever after.
I just never thought the first man to give me those butterflies would be someone I had no future with.