Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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"Watch the tiers!"
Mara glances at me over the cake, incredulous. "Dude! Why do you keep giving me cakes to hold when I clearly can't handle it?"
"I don't know!"
Her weight leans backwards and she squawks, losing her footing. We luck out once again when her boyfriend—whose name I can never seem to remember—catches her by the shoulders before she drops like a fly. He takes the cake from her hands and heads inside the venue wordlessly.
"Thanks, babe!" She calls after him and shakes her arms out. "That is the last time you make me do that, woman. I'm, like, ten pounds!"
"Agreed. I have no idea why I put us through that again."
"Because you're nervous and can't think straight at the thought of talking to Holden tonight."
I cut her a dry look. "Wow, really? I had no idea. Thanks for the insight."
She winces. "I'm going to go find my human tree. Good luck!"
She hauls ass and I find myself wishing I could join her. The plan seemed so simple a few days ago—make a cake for Holden, show up to his party, apologize for breaking up with him and ask him if he'll take me back. Now? Not so much. Because my intestines are quivering and my hands are slightly shaking and I think I'm going to pass out. What if this blows up in my face? What if he's already moved on and brought a date tonight? What if our time apart made him realize I'm just not worth all this trouble? For whatever reason none of these things occurred to me before I showed up here and now I'm staring at the venue his party is being held in and wondering if I can walk away and not be seen.
Though it's the last thing I want to do, I push my shoulders back and force my heeled feet to start moving. Slow, deliberate steps toward the venue. As quietly as I can, I mutter under my breath, "No more running. No more hiding. No more fears."
Because I'm done. I'm truly and seriously done. Whether it's twelve years away from him or a month, I can't do it. I can't be without him and I don't want to. Maybe the world will always have something to say about us, about me, but that's okay. I mean, it's not, but I don't have any control over that. All I can control is how I react to it and whether or not I'll let it affect the way I live my life.
The pep talk admittedly goes to shit the second I walk inside the venue. Wow, there's a lot of people. SFPM arranged the whole thing so that was expected but I was expecting fifty people, tops. I'd say there's easily two-hundred bodies in this room and it's making me sick with nerves. My stomach turns over in warning.
"I wouldn't advise puking on the carpet but that's just me."
Christ on a cracker.
I jump, turning around and locking eyes with Mason. I may have, what, six years on him but he still towers over me. He's decked out in a suit, hair slicked back and face clean shaven, and he looks as lethal and powerful as his brother. He might be one of the youngest people in the room but I don't think anyone would mess with him. His dark eyes do a quick, cold scan of me before locking on mine again.
