Right. “Then why are you doing it?” Amelia usually hated stuff like this. Becca had once tried to get her to play some game on Facebook to see what kind of animal she would be, and she said that tests like that were silly. A waste of time. She even refused to see the career counselor when Whitney had suggested it. Said she could figure things out on her own.

“Everyone does it,” Amelia said at the same time Lauren said, “To see how alike we are.”

There was probably truth to both answers, but Lauren’s rang the truest to Whitney.

Why would they be taking a test to see how alike they were?

“We flunked.” Dan laughed.

“What?” Whitney peered over his shoulder at the relationship quiz they’d just finished. “Can you even flunk a compatibility test?”

“Apparently, you can because we did.” His laughter increased.

She wanted to laugh along, but she didn’t find it funny. Odd that Dan did.

“You’re not worried?” she asked him.

He quieted down, his expression smoothing out. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he drew her close. “I don’t need a test to tell me we’re compatible.”

“Well, that’s good because it didn’t,” she joked, only it came out sounding more like a warning. Maybe it was.

“Hey.” He kissed her forehead, the simple act causing some of her fears to dissipate. “We’re different. I’ve known that since the moment we met. But we make it work. We’re good together.” She lifted her head, their eyes meeting. “Right?”

“Right.”

Amelia and Lauren both stared at Whitney as if willing her to leave.

Taking the hint, she offered a small smile. “Just let me know if you two need anything,” she said, backing out of the room. Before the door had even shut, they’d already scooted closer to each other again.

Was it possible that Lauren was more than a friend?

Whitney dipped the thick slice of bread into the egg batter and then tossed it onto the skillet. It sizzled, emitting a sweet buttery scent. That smell had the power to transport her back. Not only to all the mornings she’d made it for Amelia, but back to her own childhood.

Growing up, her dad was in charge of breakfast on Saturdays. He’d wake up early to go running while her mother slept in. He’d be back and showered by the time Whitney and her brother, Kevin, would shuffle out of their rooms in their pajamas, blankets fisted in their hands. Then they’d lie on the couch and watch Saturday morning cartoons while their dad whipped up eggs and French toast. Once their mom got up, they’d all gather around the kitchen table. It was Whitney’s favorite time of the week.