When he asked Elise if she liked the idea, her eyes watered. Then she thanked him, and hugged him, and looked at him in a way I’m not even sure she’s ever looked at me. Almost like family.

Turning around now, Travis spots me standing in the small kitchen. “Get out of here!”

I chuckle at how right I was. “I just want to help.”

“That’s nice, but according to my insurance company, you aren’t allowed to help, so get your sexy ass out.”

“The restaurant’s not even open,” I argue, enjoying our typical banter even more now that there’s an element of flirting to it. Up until a few weeks ago, I thought this man was as straight as an arrow, and I’ve never been so happy to find out I was wrong.

“It doesn’t matter. Out!”

“But—”

He gives me a stern look and repeats, “Out!”

Huffing, I tell him, “Fine, but at least let me help bring things to the table.”

This time the look he gives me is much softer. “Go stand on the other side of the passthrough.”

Good enough for me. That’s still behind the counter, which still makes me feel kind of special. And really, I was only looking for a task so I wouldn’t be sitting out there miserably with May and her grandparents. It seems like we’re waiting for Travis before we start this thing, so they’re being weirdly quiet. They look sad already though.

Who thought this would be a good idea? I don’t understand the point of talking about the most painful thing we could possibly talk about. We all went through it once. Why do we have to do it again?

I remind myself I’m doing this for May. It sounds horrible to me, but if she wants me to rip myself open for her, I will.

“Can you carry this stack without dropping it?” Travis asks me from the kitchen, as he sets a giant platter of pancakes on the passthrough ledge.

I want to be insulted, but it does look heavy, and I’m not the most coordinated person. “How about I bring out the toppings and leave this to you?”

The way he smiles at me makes me want to get him naked, cover him with some of his homemade whipped cream, and then lick it off him. But I try to wipe that fantasy from my mind as he passes me bowls of blueberries and sliced strawberries. The last thing I need is to pop a boner while everyone else is crying.