“She is. I saw Tío Rudy in his underwear that one time, remember? She’s been missing out. Like… big-time.”

We both cracked up.

“Mooooooom! I forgot! I need to take cupcakes to school tomorrow! Can you make some?” my niece yelled from somewhere in the background.

Connie growled into the line. “Holy fuuuuu… Peewee, let me call you back.”

We both knew she wasn’t going to call me back.

But I laughed. “Okay, be nice to my girl. Bye.”

“Bye,” she said. I heard a slice of a “Luisa, what the—” before she hung up.

I was smiling to myself as I hit Play on the remote and settled in to watch another episode of the Turkish drama I still hadn’t gotten through.

As soon as I finished eating though, I grabbed my laptop and went through the list of recipes I had been slowly working on for the book I was hoping to release. Someday.

No, not someday. One day soon. I’d publish it myself since none of the agents I’d sent queries to had responded, I’d decided months ago.

And that one day was what kept me working on my computer, rewriting a couple of summaries at the top of the recipes I was planning on using because I didn’t feel like doing much else.

At least until I passed out on the couch with my laptop. I woke up with a jolt and checked my screen, telling myself that I wasn’t hoping Zac had sent a text with an update—and that was mostly true. I wasn’t hoping. Just wishing that he had good news.

But there wasn’t a message. He hadn’t updated his Picturegram account either, I learned after I’d scrolled through my feed. There was nothing about him or San Diego or anything.

Fingers crossed.

Then I went to bed.

Three days later though, I found myself pulling my car into an open spot in front of the house Zac was living in. I didn’t want to park in the circular driveway. There were three cars parked in it, including the BMW that he had gone to pick up, and I didn’t want to block anyone in.

Grabbing the big insulated bag I used when I bought cold stuff at the grocery store, I hefted the weight of the four containers inside of it: two were for the frozen yogurt I’d made the day before, and the other two were of cake. Two for Zac and two for CJ. No pressure.

I’d been surprised as shit when the night before, I’d been tweaking the almond cake recipe I’d sort of nailed in a video a couple years ago—the same one Zac had asked about—when my phone had beeped with an incoming message. Like fate.

512-555-0199 had stared back at me on my phone screen. Along with a message of: You free?

And that was how I found myself walking across a front lawn to get to the pavestones that led up to the front door before ringing the doorbell and taking a step back to wait. I wasn’t surprised to see a familiarish figure approaching. I waved.

CJ’s slightly smiling face greeted me right back as he unlocked and then opened it.

“Hi, CJ.”

“How’s it going? Come in.” He tipped his head toward the inside of the house.

“I’m good. How are you?” I asked, stepping in and holding my hand out.

CJ dipped his chin as he shook it. “All right.” He closed the door. “Zac hollered down, said to give him a minute.”

I followed after him down the hall into the main room. “Okay.” Unzipping the bag in my hand, I pulled out the two containers I’d brought just for him with “CJ” written on a note at the top of them and held it out when we stopped in the kitchen. “Here. I brought you some frozen yogurt I made. It’s strawberry. The other one has strawberry almond cake in it.” I smiled. “They had frozen strawberries on sale, and I went a little apeshit.”

Those brown eyes lit up, and he didn’t waste a second before plucking them out of my hand. I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining the fact he pulled them toward that wide chest hidden beneath a gray college T-shirt and held it there either. “Is it as good as your nice cream?”

He’d made my nice cream too? How else would he know it was good? I’d ask him later. Maybe. If there was a later. “It’s different, but it’s good, I think. But I’m biased.”

I was pretty positive he really did pull the containers in even closer to his chest. “Thank you.” Brown eyes flicked down to his frozen yogurt. “You made it for a vlog?”

“Yeah. The almond cake is one I made before; I just changed a couple things to the original recipe.”

“By yourself?”

I nodded. “I don’t have anyone who can do one with me any time soon.” And because I had no shame, I grinned at him. “If you ever want to do one, let me know. But no pressure.”

The buff man blinked. “Serious?”

“I’m for real, if you’re for real. Anytime you want, but you don’t have to.”

CJ nodded, but I could tell he was thinking about it.

Or maybe he was thinking I was out of my damn mind.

“Sorry about that, Peewee,” echoed through the living room and into the kitchen.

Feeling high from CJ hinting that he’d made my recipe and sounding so interested in guest starring in a video, and also a little bad because I figured Zac hadn’t gotten good news about the team in San Diego since he was back here, I glanced at Zac who was walking across the living room from the direction of the back staircase and gave my longtime friend a smile that was even bigger than any of the ones I’d given him before.

Here. Now. Trying. That was my motto with this guy from now on. The past was mostly still in the past.

“It’s okay,” I called out to him, sucking up the bright expression on his face and trying not to notice how his old college T-shirt fit him, showing off that long, muscular torso.

He was smiling as he came up to me, and we both reached for each other at the same time. My arms went for his neck, going up to my tiptoes, and those long, strong arms of his wrapped around my back, pulling me into his chest, letting me get a solid feel of all those lean, hard muscles from his throat down to his hips pressed against me. I was pretty sure even his cheek went to the top of my head.

He squeezed me just as tight as I squeezed him, and I knew I didn’t imagine the deep breath he let out right before saying into the top of my head, “You sure do give the best hugs.”

“You do too.” Because he really did. They were so warm and tight.

It was me who pulled back then, but it was him who flashed those pretty white teeth as he looked down at me. “I was running late and popped into the shower real quick. Sorry ’bout that.”

“No big deal. CJ was—”

Settling onto my feet, I turned. CJ was gone. So was his frozen yogurt and his almond cake.

Okay.

I snapped my fingers. “I brought you a few pieces of that almond cake you asked about and some homemade ice cream. Well, it’s kind of ice cream, it’s frozen yogurt. If you want it. But if you don’t want it, or you don’t like it, it’s okay. CJ might eat it. I brought him some too, but he took off with it, I guess.”

Zac had started frowning about halfway through me talking, and it was full-fledged at the end of it, wiping off every trace of the beaming face he’d been shooting at me when he’d first come into the kitchen.