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“Yeah. Give ’em up, Tate,” Daphne adds, no nonsense.
“I would love to, but unfortunately, I’m still trying to sleep here.” I squeeze my eyes closed for emphasis.
Doesn’t matter. Daphne pries them open. “Are you being serious? You’re going to hold out on us?”
I bat her hands away. “Ease up, you were like a millimeter away from my cornea.”
“We want to know everything, from the length of his—”
“DAPH.”
“To the way he—”
I retrieve the decorative pillow from the foot of my bed and try to smother her with it.
“So no details?” she asks mildly once she’s regained control of the situation and smacked the pillow down to the floor.
I huff out a heavy breath. “There’s nothing to tell. You guys already know what happened.”
I’ve been intentionally vague on purpose. For starters, I didn’t actually hook up with the guy, and if they find out, they’ll realize I never completed the dare. Also, more importantly, it feels dangerous to give life to these complicated feelings. My plan was to leave last night in the past, and I can’t do that if we sit around all morning waxing poetic about this guy’s abdominal muscles.
Fortunately, I’m saved by a knock on our front door.
“Who’s that? Josh?” Daphne asks.
“No idea.”
It’s embarrassing, silly, totally not possible, but a part of me hopes it’s the guy from the party. Or if not him, maybe a bouquet of flowers delivered on his behalf. Which is…insane considering he doesn’t know my name, much less my address.
Still, because I’m shameless, I straighten my pajamas and finger-comb my hair just a little on my way to answer the door.
There’s a heavy knock knock knock. Then my little niece’s voice sounds on the other side.
“Do you want to build a snowman!?” she sings just before I fling the door open with a laugh.
I’m not the least bit sad to see my family standing there instead of my mystery man. Not at all. Nope.
My niece is the cutest little kid in the entire world. We share our hair color and eye color, and she has the same spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Today, she’s even cuter than usual because in her hands she has a box of pastries, and these aren’t your bodega’s moldy leftovers from yesterday. My brother’s fiancée, Chloe, is a pastry chef. An amazing one, at that.
She’s smiling behind Harper, tucked against my brother’s side. They make quite a pair.
Luke took after our dad. He’s tall and burly and lovable. Handsome, yes. My big brother is so handsome I could just pinch his little cheeks. Chloe’s gorgeous too, Italian, sun kissed, and vivacious. She found my brother during a time in his life when he was absolutely not looking for love. Chloe swooped in and made him fall head over heels, first with her cooking—she was his private chef!—and then with her. Now we all love her.
Me most of all because she brought me homemade pastries!
“Surprise! We brought you breakfast!” Harper says, bouncing with excitement.
“Gimme those,” I say, yanking the box out of her hands.
She erupts with laughter. “They’re for everyone!”
“Yeah well, I’d like to see an eight-year-old wrestle a chocolate croissant out of my hand. Don’t you have school today?”
It’s Wednesday morning and she’s in her private school uniform.
“Doesn’t start for another hour, silly. Dad said we could stop on our way there since it’s close.”
“Ah, you couldn’t resist paying a visit to your favorite aunt. I see.”
“Only aunt.”
“Eh, we both know it still counts.” I carry the box into the kitchen and call out to Sophia and Daphne. “Chloe brought—”
There’s no need to finish the second half of the sentence. My roommates come peeling into the kitchen like two bats out of hell, and we descend on the pastry box like vultures. Sophia thinks she’s going to take the most delicious-looking cinnamon roll in the box, but she has another think coming.
“I swear I brought enough for everyone.” Chloe laughs, likely worried we’re about to come to blows over her baked goods. We won’t if only Sophia would do what’s good for her and slowly step away from the cinnamon roll.
Daphne, with her mouth completely full of pastry, looks over at my future sister-in-law with hearts in her eyes. “Chloe, I love you. Marry me instead of Luke.”
Luke laughs and plants a big kiss on Chloe’s head, then he tugs her close, wrapping his arm around her waist like he’s actually scared Daphne might steal her from him. I can’t help but grin. He’s a total goner. Chloe has him wrapped around her little finger. I visited them at their Hamptons house over the holidays, and she had him out in the garden with her. He wasn’t even tending it! He was just standing beside her, holding a dainty little basket as she picked vegetables and handed them up to him. I should have snapped a picture. His teammates would have a field day.
