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I didn’t. Not if it meant keeping my daughter safe. “Anything he needs.”
“I called Lisa. In case you need to talk,” Baker said, nudging my plate.
I’d never known what it was like to have good friends before I landed at Paths. What did it say about Baker that she’d contact my therapist? Because she knew I didn’t need to keep what happened bottled up.
Because she cared.
I’m not alone anymore.The realization made me feel stronger, like I could handle anything because I had support behind me.
“Thanks. Let’s bake a cake, and after that, I’ll give her a call.” Baking. That was comfort and familiarity. Plus it would distract me.
She relaxed at my easy concession. “I’m here too.”
“I know.”
“Hey. What happened with Andrew?” Baker brightened, angling her body toward mine.
“Is he that hot piece of ass that comes by the food truck?” Sonya asked, leaning forward with interest.
My face flamed, and I looked at Baker. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t. But if you do . . .”
“Why don’t you like him?” Sonya demanded, her eyes lasered on Baker. “I couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with him.”
“Wait. Wait. Who are we talking about?” Vivian threw her hands up.
“Did you have a date?” Muriella asked, her eyes lighting.
I squirmed under the intense scrutiny. “Um . . ."
“She definitely had a date. She’s had two with him.”
“Two dates?” Sonya asked, shaking her finger at me. “What is the point of you having a phone if you aren’t going to use it to tell me about this?” Then she looked at Baker. “Who helped her get ready?”
Baker’s brow furrowed. “She went straight from work both times.”
“Tell me she’s lying,” Sonya said.
“So what happened?” Vivian demanded. “Start with the first date.”
I recapped the truck breaking down. How his brother and father rescued us. But I left out the kiss.
“That’s all great. Glad you had a good time.” Sonya twirled her hand in front of her. “Give us the good stuff. How does he kiss? Is he as good as he looks?”
“Sonya,” I said.
“You know I don’t care about the food.” She leveled a look around the kitchen. “They don’t either. They’re just too polite to say so.”
“Don’t pressure her,” Muriella said. “Tell us whatever you feel comfortable with.”
I looked down at my lap. “The kiss . . .” I touched my lips, remembering what his felt like on mine.
“Sparks?” Vivian asked.
“You should see the way he looks at her. There are definitely sparks,” Sonya said.
“What did you two do last night?”
