Page 19 of Mixed Signals
“You’re distracting me.”
“I think you’re distracting yourself.”
“Fine.” I set my icing bag to the side and sweep my eyes across the space, making sure there’s no one close enough to overhear me. It’s empty enough on a Wednesday afternoon, but our town is stuffed to the brim with busybodies that love to snoop. I narrow my eyes at Gus in the corner, the handsome young firefighter who might be the biggest gossip monger of them all. I know for a fact that he’s near the top of the town phone tree that distributes gossip instead of important town information. I know about the betting board in the back of the firehouse, too. For a while, it was listing the odds on when Stella and Luka would finally get together. Now I think it’s a betting list based on when Beckett will adopt his next animal.
Satisfied Gus isn’t listening, I look at Stella and prop my hands on my hips. “I saw Caleb this weekend,” I whisper.
“What? Like around town?” She frowns and takes another bite of cupcake. “That’s nothing new. Why are you whispering?”
Oh my god. “Why are you yelling?”
“I’m not yelling. I’m talking at a reasonable level.” She gives me a strange look and takes another obscene bite of cupcake. “You’re freaking out.”
“I don’t want Gus to hear what we’re talking about,” I tell her, still whispering. The entire town doesn’t need to know that I’ve been waiting for Caleb to walk through those doors. They’d probably bring it up at the next town meeting.
“I can’t hear anything,” Gus calls from the booth in the corner, his back propped up against the window, a plaid pillow on his lap. He doesn’t bother looking up from his slice of pecan pie. “Carry on.”
“You remember where the door is, don’t you Gus?”
He shoots me a wink. “Sure do, Laylabug.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I grab Stella by the elbow and drag her into the back kitchen. She abandons her cupcake on my prep table and grabs both of my hands in hers. Squeezes tight.
“What’s going on? Was it your date this weekend? Did he do something weird?” Her hands hold onto mine even tighter, a white-knuckle grip. “Should I call Beckett and Luka? I bet Dane could use his Sheriff connections to find his address. I’ve always wanted to slash someone’s tires.”
“Calm down, Rambo. We don’t need to slash anyone’s tires. I told you. I saw Caleb this weekend.”
Stella raises both eyebrows at me. “Okay. And? He lives here. We see him all of the time.”
“No. I saw him at the bar.”
She stares at me, confused. “Layla, I honestly don’t understand the level of urgency you have right now but I’m going to match it because that’s what friends do. What bar?”
“I went to that beach bar over in Rehoboth for my date with Bryce.”
She makes a face like I just forced a lemon in her mouth. “Bryce. What a douche-y name.”
“Well, he was a douche. So it’s appropriate.” I release her hands and rub my palms against my thighs. “He ended up ditching me, and I ran into Caleb when I was trying to figure out what to do.”
“Bryce left you there? At the bar?” Stella’s jaw does the same clench thing that Caleb’s did. Her pretty blue eyes narrow into slits and her hands curl into fists. She looks like she wants to cut down one of our trees and go out swinging. “Where does he live again?”
I ignore her. “It doesn’t matter. Caleb was at the bar, and Stella—he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.”
That shirt is all I can think about. I’ve been icing orange hibiscus flowers on everything all week.
The shirt has been on heavy rotation with his biceps. His dimples. His voice when he said,Maybe we should date each other.
I’m a mess.
“Okay.” Stella gives me a concerned look. “That’s a … choice.”
“He said we should date each other,” I add as an afterthought, my brain still stuck on tan skin and the jut of his collarbones beneath his unbuttoned collar. I would love to stop thinking about this shirt. I really would.
Stella reaches out and smacks me in the arm. I jolt backwards, right into a metal shelf filled with cupcake toppings. A jar of mini chocolate chips goes tumbling to the floor.
“What the hell was that for?” I ask, rubbing at my bare skin.
