Page 65 of Meet Cute Reboot
I peek at her through my hair. A tickle in my chest prompts laughter to spill from my mouth. “They always come undone. I showed him how to make two bunny ears.”
“That’s so romantic.”
I break into full-bellied laughter. Sarah joins in.
“I’m sorry,” she says when we settle down. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. You two are complicated. I get that.”
“He and I are nothing. Nothing but business partners.”
She cocks her head and regards me thoughtfully, then she purses her lips.
“What?” I repeat for the third time.
“Instagram thinks you’re an item.”
“I know, I know.” Darn that pinprick of guilt. I rub my side where it jabs me once more. “I haven’t thought this through, have I?”
“No.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“Always.”
Sarah reaches out, encircles her arms, and gives me an air hug. I hug the air in response.
I’m doing the right thing. I know I am.
I think I am.
I know I need to grow my business and Luke is my marketing plan. As for the fallout... I’ll worry about that later.
Chapter 14
Cassie
I burst into Nana’s house, dripping with sweat from the trek between the car and front porch thanks to the ongoing mid-September heatwave. Temps are almost ninety today. I slogged through the suffocating humidity with my nine by thirteen Glad container full of red velvet cupcakes on my hip and a gallon of Milo’s sweet tea in my opposite hand, looking forward to the frigid blast of Nana’s AC.
Crossing the threshold brings no relief. Instead, the temperature ratchets up a few degrees.
“What’s going on?” I yell through the house.
A box fan sits in the window next to Granny, powered on high, lifting the few hairs on her head perpendicular to her scalp. Unlike her usual attire of a cotton housecoat and blanket, she wears a floral tank dress and a sweat band high on her forehead. A football game screams from the television.
“Granny, why is it so hot in here?” I yell over the TV.
She raises a boney hand. “AC went out Wednesday,” she says, and then drops her hand to her lap, case closed.
“Wednesday? Why didn’t you tell me? Nana!” I holler.
I thunder through the living and dining rooms and barge into the kitchen. “What’s going on? Granny said the AC’s been out since Wednesday.”
Nana stands in front of the stove fanning herself with a random envelope. Sweat pours down her temples, forehead, and cheeks. She looks like a freshly glazed donut.
“Granny would know,” Nana says.
Mom stands at the perpendicular counter stirring something, the cornbread I assume. She peeks at me over her shoulder. A fan whirs furiously on the table but offers little relief.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”