He was a creator. He was larger than life. He traveled the world. He made things happen. He lived to make things happen. Big things. Bold things. Things a lot bigger than Appleby, Iowa could sustain. Sure, he’d been happy to make some changes at Hot Cakes and to help Aiden and Ollie and his other partners get things off the ground. But he’d given it up easily enough too. Hot Cakes had been a little project for him that he’d been able to move on from without any trouble.

He was already working on something new. He’d been busy every afternoon this week.

He’d made a huge difference in her life, for sure. But in the overall scheme of things, these issues weren’t all that big. Or bold. He’d gotten her sister and stepsister to stop fighting so much. He’d found a way to better Kelsey’s chemistry grade, and helped with her dad’s depression. He and Jane had definitely been having a lot of fun with cake frosting and, well, every room and horizontal surface in her house. But what happened when they got through all the “levels”?

What happened next?

There would be something new for him to move on to no doubt.

And where did that leave them? Did Kelsey go back to not caring about her grades? Did Jack get depressed again? Did Jane go back to juggling all the balls by herself… kind of badly? She hadn’t been able to get Kelsey and Aspen to see one single thing they had in common. She hadn’t thought of Ben as a chemistry tutor even though she saw him, literally, five days a week. She hadn’t even considered taking Jack out to a dessert tasting. Or any other event.

Suddenly her heart was racing.

Everything was going to suck when Dax got tired of Appleby. Of her crazy life. Of them. And it wasn’t just her who was going to suffer.

Max was frowning and reaching for her. “Whoa. You okay?”

She shook her head.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe,” Max said, grasping both of her upper arms.

She did. Kind of. It was shaky, but oxygen did go into her lungs.

“What the hell, Janey?” Max asked. “You were smiling and looking all lovey dovey—not to mention smug as hell about all the chocolate-covered orgasms—and then suddenly you looked like you were about to pass out.”

She nodded and swallowed. “I’m…”

“Having a panic attack,” Max said.

She nodded again. “I think so.” Her eyes went wide. “Why am I having a panic attack? She gripped Max’s forearms. “Why am I panicking? Shit happens all the time. I know that! I’m used to that! Why am I panicking?”

“Fuck if I know,” Max told her. But he gave her a little shake. “You’re in love with a millionaire who makes you incredibly happy, dishes out orgasms the way we dish up fudge coating, and has made your whole family better. Why aren’t you—”

He broke off as Jane started breathing rapidly again, and her fingers dug into his arms.

She felt like her head was spinning.

“Holy shit, Jane, pull yourself together.”

She wasn’t sure Max was going to win any empathy awards or should be teaching any seminars on getting friends through panic attacks, but she did manage to suck in a breath.

“What is going on?” He was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.

That was fair. She was never like this. She had her shit handled, dammit. She was always ready for the next crisis, the next curveball, the next wrench in the plan. She expected it. She just took it as it came. What the hell was going on here?

“It was…” She cleared her throat. “The proposal thing.”

Max frowned. “I was kidding. Jesus, you don’t have to propose to the guy tonight.”

She dragged in another breath. “No. I know. It’s not that. It just hit me, I guess. Proposal means long term. Forever.” She bit her bottom lip and blinked hard. “This isn’t forever with Dax.”

Max’s frown deepened. “It’s not?”

“Of course it’s not!” she snapped.

She breathed deep again and let go of Max. He let go of her too but watched her as if he was pretty sure she was going to crumple at his feet at any moment.

“Okay, why not?” he asked.

“He’s a millionaire playboy who is pseudo-famous—or maybe even pretty famous—because he really does have tons of fans. People want his autograph. They wear t-shirts he designed and dress up as characters he created and stand in line for hours just to get a selfie with him. It’s nuts. And he jets around the world and drives a crazy car and wears a hat that cost more than my rent. More than three months of my rent actually. He thinks nothing of buying a business for millions of dollars and then selling it a week later so he can have sex with some girl he just met. He buys Ping-Pong tables as a way to fix all problems. The idea of setting up his laptop on my kitchen table to work made him crazy. He has to be in the middle of the action and with people all the time and doing stuff. Big stuff. He will never be able to be happy in Appleby, not long term, and if I try to keep him here and just settle in and think that he’s going to fix all my problems and get used to everything being good, when he leaves it’s going to be… devastating.”

Jane was aware that she’d been talking nonstop, and very quickly. But Max just let her rant. His eyebrows were nearly in his hairline when she finished, but he listened, taking it all in. He didn’t interrupt or argue or even shake his head.

When she was done, Max just stood there watching as Jane took deep, shaky breaths, blinked back tears, and thought about everything she’d just said.

Yeah. That was pretty much the sum of it.

She’d been floating on a sugar-orgasm-no-angsty-phone-call high for the last several days. But everything she’d just said was true and… it sucked.

This couldn’t last.

Everyone in her life already expected and needed so much from her, and she felt like she was falling short most of the time. How could she be enough for a guy like Dax?

“So Dax isn’t your Prince Charming,” Max finally commented.

Jane frowned. “What?”

Max shrugged. “You work so hard, literally cleaning your stepmother's house, and it kind of made you seem like Cinderella with Dax as your Prince Charming, coming in to whisk you away from it all. But he’s actually been your fairy godmother… well, father. He’s made all these wonderful things happen, given you a little time off from your real life.”

Oh. Wow. Jane swallowed hard. “He’s given me a temporary reprieve,” she said softly.

That was what Dax did. So very well.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, unaware of just what that all meant. “But you’re thinking your coach is about to turn back into a pumpkin.”

Jane sighed and let her head fall forward. That was actually a really great analogy. “The clock always strikes midnight eventually.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Max sounded a little sad.

Jane lifted her head and met her friend’s eyes.

“Of course, the story doesn’t end after midnight,” Max said, clearly trying to be supportive.

“No,” she admitted. “But it’s not the fairy godmother who comes after Cinderella.”

Max just nodded. Then he reached out and pulled her into a hug.

She let him squeeze her, appreciating the comfort.