Page 69 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

He was telling me to keep taking chances.

Wasn’t that the most important thing I had learned over the past few weeks together? That when I bet on myself, it was always the right move? Forget the expectations of everyone else. Forget what my ex, my grandma, my regulars had to say—they could have opinions, but they didn’t have the same skin in the game.

My future, and the future of Southern Charm, came down to what I was willing to put into it, and how much I trusted my instincts.

I had learned how to trust my instincts again, and look where it had gotten me. Full tables, internet buzz, happy customers, both new and old. Look where it got me. The happiest I’d been in years, actually running a restaurant.

I was doing what I’d always dreamed of doing. It didn’t look like how I’d fantasized it would, but it was beautiful. It was perfect, and it was mine.

Why did he have to leave? Why now?

“What the hell are you doing?” Jacob’s voice cracked as he shouted at me from the front door.

What the hell was I doing? He was lucky he was my little brother, because I was not in the mood for anyone’s attitude.

I didn’t respond, just scooped a dollop of cream cheese frosting from the plate with my finger.

I’m doing what I need to be doing, which is feeling sorry for myself.

Jacob’s sneakers squeaked as he stomped up behind me and repeated his question. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped.

My brother swiped the plate in front of me and tossed it into the sink with a loud crash.

“What the hell, dude?”

With his fists planted on his hips, Jacob was the spitting image of our mother, and for a second I considered laughing. Scolded by my own little brother on the worst night of my life.

“Right, Lola! What the hell? Why are you sitting here moping? The aliens are here!”

I waved my arms around, pointing out the empty apartment. Then I did the same with my hands, pointing out my tear-stained face.

“Kal’s gone, Jacob. I’m sad and eating my feelings. It’s a normal reaction when someone you love leaves you.”

“So, what, you’re just going to let him?” He stamped a foot and glared at me, those fists still glued to his hips.

Okay, what the hell is this? Since when does my little brother care about my love life?

“You didn’t even like Kal,” I said, reaching for a second cinnamon roll and placing it directly on the counter.

Jacob slapped the cinnamon roll onto the floor. It landed frosting side down. I gaped at him, speechless.

“I did, too!” my brother said with a raised voice. “I mean, was he totally weird? Yeah. Super freaking weird. But he wasn’t so bad, I guess. He was nice and he…he…” Jacob’s shoulders slumped as he paused and took a deep breath. “He made you happy.”

I tensed.

“And when you’re happy, Lola, you don’t even know…”

I tilted my head to look my little brother in the eye. He was trying hard not to cry, which made me want to cry.

“What don’t I know?” The question came out as a whisper.

“How much that means to Mom and Dad.” Jacob twisted his foot, kicking his toe against the linoleum floor. “And to me.” He looked up, and it was enough to break my heart all over again.

“The past few years seriously sucked,” Jacob said. “And then you came home and everything still kind of sucked because you were angry all the time. But then he came around, and you were…you again.”

Forget crying—I was openly sobbing now.