I knew I shouldn’t respond. Red and I had just talked about giving Perry space hours ago, but already, I felt the pull. I wanted to talk to him so badly.
One little text couldn’t hurt anything, right?
>>Rock: Can’t sleep a wink. You miss the mattress at the inn, too?
I hated that it was so difficult not to add a “babe” at the end of the last sentence. It had become second nature to call him that.
I shifted in bed, pulling the comforter up over myself, lying in the dim glow under the sheets.
>>Perry: My own bed will never feel the same again.
>>Rock: Lol. Relatable. Maybe I can only fall asleep to the soft sounds of Cursehound’s riffs now.
>>Perry: I definitely don’t miss those.
>>Rock: Maybe we can sneak into the courtyard and go sleep in that hammock.
>>Perry: Racking up trespassing charges isn’t a high item on my bucket list.
>>Rock: ...It’s only bad if we get caught.
>>Perry: You’re too much, Rock.
>>Rock: I’m just enough. You love it.
I bit my lower lip after sending the last text. I knew it was probably going too far. It was so hard not to fall into flirting with him. I couldn’t even imagine flirting with anyone else right now.
I fidgeted as I waited for another message to come in from him. Five minutes passed, then ten. I started to worry that I really had put him off when the phone buzzed in my palm.
>>Perry: Are you coming to the Tavern tomorrow night?
>>Rock: Maybe.
>>Perry: Well, I hope so. Good night, Rock.
>>Rock: Night, Chef.
I knew Red might kill me if I showed up. But I couldn’t help but stoke the idea in my heart that maybe, in some way, I could still be Perry’s friend.
14
Perry
“Isobel, are you sure we don’t have any more of the pearl sugar? I thought we ordered another case,” I said. I was buried deep in the supply room in the kitchen, searching the shelves.
“I know I got some,” she said, appearing near me, her eyes scanning the shelves.
“I need it,” I said.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Sheesh. I’ll find it. What are you so jazzed about tonight?”
“I’m not jazzed,” I said, knowing it was a lie.
I’d had a fizzy feeling inside me all day knowing that Rock was coming to the bar tonight. Ever since I’d dropped him off at Red’s house last night, I’d felt like there was an empty spot inside me. At the inn, I’d purposely tried to keep myself from falling for him, knowing it would make the end of the week easier.
And then the end of the week came.
And it wasn’t any easier at all.
I still wanted him so badly. I still thought about the night we shared every time I went to sleep, every time I woke up, and plenty in between.
I’d signed up for no less than four dating apps, and spent about two minutes scrolling through pictures on each one before rolling my eyes and giving up. Nobody was Rock. Nobody seemed to catch my interest at all.
And before long, I’d found myself studying different black cherry cake recipes instead, up late at night in my kitchen, getting the stress out by whipping up test batch after test batch of a cake that hopefully Rock might like.
I was a total lost cause.
“You are jumping around like a damn grasshopper tonight,” Isobel said. “There it is! Found it.”
She unearthed the bag of pearl sugar from the recesses of a box, handing it over to me.
“Perfect,” I said, heading back into the kitchen. Tonight’s dessert was a new one I was testing out. It was a simple chiffon cake with a chocolate ganache layer, topped with a whole lot of black cherries and dusted with pearl sugar.
“Looks beautiful,” Isobel said.
“Remember, don’t sell too much of it,” I said. “Save at least one slice.”
“Why?”
“Saving one for Rock, when he gets here.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes going a little wider. I could see the gears working as she thought about what I’d just said.
“He’s just a friend, Isobel,” I said. She was a total gossip, and I knew her mind must have been going in a million directions.
“Right. A friend. Who you totally think is hot.”
“Rock being hot is just an objective fact. Saying he’s hot is like saying the sky is blue, and you know it.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” she said. “Speak of the devil, by the way.”
I looked up and saw Rock through the small window on the kitchen door, a weathered blue baseball cap on his head. He walked in and took a seat at the bar, and suddenly my heart was beating a little faster.
“Well, I guess saving a slice of cake won’t be a problem,” I said quietly. “Let me go say hello to him, then I’ll come put the brulee finish on the top.”