While I wasn’t going to throw myself a coming out party for them, I would also not skate around obvious questions, although they were probably far too polite to even ask me outright. And I didn’t exactly own rainbow clothing or pins like Jace, but I couldn’t allow myself to feel shame any longer for who I’d always been—or that kiss which I may or may not have initiated.
The jury was out on that one.
7. JACE
How could we have just kissed like that and then nothing? In a word, it was a magical kiss. I kept licking my lips for hours after, trying to recall the feeling of them on him again. After a bath and dinner, I went to bed and passed out.
It wasn’t often that I woke even earlier than usual but today was one of them. Maybe it was the work I’d done yesterday with the hay, or maybe it was the mental stress of trying to pick apart what the kiss meant. Either way, I woke up and headed to the kitchen.
This wasn’t a reward bake; this was stress baking dialed up to a solid eight.
In my plain blue onesie with my slip-on and their cushioned soles, I was on a mission to channel all my energy into something fun, and hopefully I could do it without waking the entire house.
Daisy, the loudest walking dog in history was also wake, and she had other ideas as her paws pound with each step. She followed me around the kitchen as I grabbed flour, eggs, sugar, and scoured the pantry for a vanilla pod. I liked the fresh stuff the best, especially when it came to my glazes and creams.
“Daisy go lay down,” I grumbled.
She didn’t listen. She never listened. But her big eyes and tongue hanging out of her mouth were far too adorable for me to be mad at her.
“I’ll get you a treat if you go lay down.”
Her breathing grew heavier. Of course, she listened when a treat was mentioned.
Back into the pantry, I grabbed her one of her treat chew bars and traded it with her for her to lay in one of her beds scattered around the house. She chose the one in the kitchen,probably so she could keep an eye on me, but it was better than her ratting me out to my folks.
Cupcakes were one of my go to bakes whenever I wanted something easy, mostly because it wasn’t the cupcake that mattered, it was the buttercreams and all the different things you can throw on top of it. I was obsessed withCupcake Warsduring my teen years. It had left a mark on me, clearly.
I’d been in a trance, baking up a storm, two dozen cupcakes. I’d whipped up six different buttercreams and a whole mess in the process. And that’s where I ended up with pride cupcakes, the buttercream made up the six colors of the rainbow pride flag. I made a seventh as a white, and with a piping bag, I spread thin lines of each color before throwing in the white base. The result with the correct nozzle created pastel and fading rainbow spiral swirls on top of the cupcakes.
My mom walked in, startled to see me, she gasped, clutching the bathrobe tight around her chest. “It’s early, even for you,” she said. “What are you—” she nodded. “Ok. Well, I’m surprised, but there isn’t an event I’m missing is there?”
“I was just—I needed something to do,” I lied. “Why are you up?”
“The horses are arriving soon,” she said. “Well, they’ve told your dad the afternoon, but they also said the morning too because of the predicted rainfall, they’re worried the road to the ranch might be impassable.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s only flooded a handful of times, they’re being dramatic.”
She chuckled, throwing her head back slightly as she headed over to the coffee pot in the corner of the kitchen. “It was your dad who suggested they come earlier,” she said. “I tried to tell you last night, but I think you were out for the count.”
“Hmm, probably.”
“Surprised the pot isn’t on already,” she said.
Me too, but when I woke up already wired, I didn’t even think about coffee. “I was sidetracked.” I went back into the pantry, passing her. “Do you know if we still have those golden sugar decorations?”
“Sweetheart, it’s far too early for me to take inventory of your baking stuff right now,” she said, and as I peered out of the doorway, I caught her rubbing her eyes and yawning. “And with the rain, I doubt we’ll get many people visiting this afternoon so we can’t even sell those cupcakes.”
“Who said I wanted you to sell them?”
Her voice strained, the same thing that happened to her voice whenever she was getting annoyed. “You’ve made at least thirty, we’re not going to get through thirty cupcakes.”
“Twenty-four,” I corrected her. “And we’ve also got Lorenzo. I’m sure he’ll love these.” And that’s when it hit me. I was doing this for his attention, to give to him, to see his face, to have that knowing look, and hopefully address the elephant growing in spaces we would soon both be occupying together constantly.
“It’s nice that you’re getting alone,” she said. “I just worry you might give him the wrong impression.”
Or maybe it was the right impression. “There they are.” I found the gold and silver container of sugar paper stars. They were great for adding that little extra sprinkle of glitter and pizzazz to a bake.
Once all twenty-four cupcakes were decorated, an overwhelming sweep of tired came over me, but that was swiftly met with the full pot of coffee. Freshly brewed. It was heaven sent. I took a mug of it to my bedroom and got dressed for the day. Knowing I would soon be face-to-face with Lorenzo after last night, I wanted to see if there was something there, like maybe a change of mind.
