Page 367 of Double or Nothing

“Not yet,” Bryce says when I reach for the lid.

Asshole, pissing on my spotlight.

“The light is still red, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He points at it, as if I can’t see it with my own eyes.

“I don’t live my life by common standards.”

He scoffs at me. Rolls his eyes.

“It’s an electrical appliance, Jack. Built with precision, by professionals.”

“Whatever, BT. I know my toasties.”

I try the lid again, but Bryce slaps my hand away.

“Leave it. The Toastique knows toasties better than you do.”

I look at him. I get what’s going on here. A feistier Bryce strengthening his backbone.

The old impulse rises to be defiant and turn it into a jokey contest. Open the toastie maker simply because he told me not to.

But no.

I leave it alone.

The decision is small, but it still feels significant.

I drink my coffee while we wait, looking at the empty seat where Alice would usually be sitting, laughing along with us. The loss of her has been here all night, hovering at the edge of everything Bryce and I have done, even though our evening was joyous.

“We need to talk about Soul Girl,” I say. “Tell me everything Christopher has been bleating on about regarding the wedding.”

Bryce’s shoulders tighten.

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“I really do.”

“It’ll piss you off, like it did me.”

“I’m already pissed off. Details will make it productive. I need them.”

The Toastique Pro light turns green and I open it immediately.

Steam escapes around the edges, carrying the smell of cheddar and mushrooms through the kitchen. The toasties look excellent.

Maybe accepting responsibility and heeding instructions is within my comfort zone after all.

I slide them onto two plates and sit beside Bryce rather than returning to the opposite side of the island.

Our thighs touch, and even that simple contact gives me a flood of joy.

“Start with the venues,” I say. “Did they actually choose one?”

“No. He was just bragging about the options.”

“Which options?”

Bryce pulls his plate closer but doesn’t eat. Nerves, most likely, zapping him like crazy.