When I told him I hadn’t ordered it, he grumbled, “Made it by accident. Don’t wanna let it go to waste.” Then he walked off before I could even thank him.

I was pretty sure the accident thing was a total lie. And after that, I considered us friends.

Travis was doing things to help me out even way back then. Now he’s offered to do a huge, crazy thing for me in pretending to be my boyfriend. Knowing I’m running out of time if I’m going to make it happen, I look at May and steel myself for this conversation.

As she’s wiping her hands with a napkin, she looks up and makes a face. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Because... I love you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, okay, but what’s the real reason?”

I glance around to make sure no one nearby looks particularly nosy today. Betty Harlowe is notorious for spreading information she wasn’t even told directly, but there’s a few tables between ours and hers, and she currently seems very invested in the slice of cherry pie she’s eating. Plus with the din of everyone in here talking at once, it’s pretty hard to overhear anyone unless you’re really trying.

Still, this is probably the worst place to talk about this, so I say, “Is it okay if we get out of here, and then we can talk about something on the way home?”

“You’re making me nervous. What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing. You don’t need to be nervous.” Shit, I suck. “Are you almost done eating?”

She tucks a wavy strand of lavender hair behind her ear and says, “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Looking for Travis, I spot him as he’s coming out of the kitchen with a tray of clean coffee mugs. He moves behind the counter to put them away, and I jump up and go over there to catch him.

“Hey, can I grab a box and pay?”

“You need to eat that food,” he says, his back to me as he slides the tray into place on top of another one beside the coffee machine.

“I will, I promise. I just need to get out of here so I can talk to May before I lose my nerve.”

He turns and gives me a searching look, then recognition dawns in his eyes. “You’re going to ask her about... the thing?”

I shift my weight nervously, pulling my wallet out of my pocket. “Mmhmm. I’m sorry I waited ‘til the last minute, I’ve just been caught up with work and—”

“It’s fine.” Reaching below the counter, he grabs a Styrofoam takeout container and shoves it at me. “Go. Talk to her. Let me know what you guys decide.”

“So you’re still cool with...”

“Yeah. Whatever you need.”