Page 3 of Strawberry Cake

“Book hunting. She wants to go thrifting.”

“That’s cute as shit.”

“Yeah…” Even though he was alone, Decan ducked his head to hide the blush rising on his cheeks.

Marco sighed, knowing him far too well. “Decan, stop questioning yourself. She made the first move! She clearly saw something she liked in you.”

“Or she feels sorry for me.”

“If you say another pessimistic word I will slap you through the damn speaker,” Marco hissed, his usual playfulness gone.

“Fine.”

“Good. Call me and let me know how it goes, okay?”

“I will.”

The call ended, and Decan set his phone aside.

Marco’s brutal honesty had driven Decan mad during his recovery—he’d always call him out when needed just like he had on that call. He’d hated it, but now looking back at the time, he couldn’t thank Marco enough for it.

Decan

He had tossed and turned all night. Even now, sitting under the hot shower, he couldn’t relax. It was so easy for his thoughts to spiral in the dark direction that made him question himself over and over again. He tried to think back to dates he’d had before the accident and realised: he’d always been a nervous person. Only this time, his self esteem had taken a few hits along the way.

He stepped out of the shower and got dressed in black jeans and t-shirt, tying his wet hair into a bun. He was forcing down breakfast when he saw a message pop up on his phone. The sight of Hope’s name had a smile lifting his cheeks.

We’re still good for 10, right?

I’ll be there!

Maybe she was just as nervous. After all, everyone had insecurities, right?

He sighed and tried to focus on work before having to leave, but he just stared at the screen with no headspace to create a simple ad for one of his clients. When it was finally time to leave, his heart thumped and his palms were sweatyto the point of needing his gloves to use his chair. Driving through Houston traffic was made even more miserable by the rainfall pattering against the windshield. He parked in front of the café and noticing he still had fifteen minutes, he waited and hoped the rain would subside.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on his window. Hope smiled at him, an enormous umbrella shielding her from the heavy downpour. Her eyes were bright, putting the dark clouds above them to shame. She held the umbrella high enough for him to open his door.

“Hi,” she greeted. “I thought I’d come over and offer a dry path inside. Or we can wait and hope it stops soon.”

Fuck,that was sweet. “You could hop in and we can go order at the drive through.”

Hope nodded and waited for him to close the door before walking around his hood with a pep in her step. When she opened the passenger’s door she paused, her eyes on the dripping wet umbrella.

“Throw it in the back; a little water won’t hurt.”

She jumped inside and laid the umbrella on the floor behind his seat, careful not to sling water across the car. “I should have checked the weather. This might not be as fun as I thought.”

“We’re not made out of sugar.”

“We’re not?” she asked with a cheeky grin that illuminated her entire face.

“Does that disappoint you?”

“A little. I might have to add some to my coffee after all.”

Decan laughed, backing out of the parking spot. “How did you know this was my car?”

“I saw you getting into it yesterday.”