Page 84 of Best Friends for Never

A dreamy look crosses her features, and she sets her chin on her hand, that smile still present. “Well, I guess what really started it was ...”

Chapter Thirteen

Noel

As I suspected, Gran had already turned in for the night when I got home from the Falls, and she was already off in town this morning, which I know thanks to the note she left attached to the fridge informing me she “needed a break from all the cooking” and to “fend for yourself.”

I smiled, wrote back a quick note asking if she wouldn’t be making any more banana bread, just to tease her, and then left for Rossi’s Café with one thing in mind—Parker.

Yesterday was not what I expected, yet everything I wanted wrapped into one.

I want more of it. Not just the sex either. I want more of Parker. I want to laugh with her again. Play with her again. Have fun again.

As much as I enjoy my life in LA, it’s never felt like home to me, not in the way Parker does.

I’ve missed that feeling far more than I realized.

I head down Harris Street, noting that almost all the anti-theater signs are now gone. Could it be the naysayers are finally getting on board?

I turn onto Borgen Avenue to find that the town is already buzzing with people, and to my surprise, they wave instead of putting theirheads down or turning their noses up at me like they did when I first arrived.

It feels ... good. Better than I expected it would. I knew there was a chance people would be angry with me for leaving, but I never thought my neighbors I’ve known my whole life would ignore me. Now, though, they’re warming back up to me, and it reminds me of how I used to feel walking down these streets—safe.

“Noel!” Fran calls as I walk by the pie shop. “You hungry?”

I pat my stomach, already walking through the front door because the delicious smell wafting to the sidewalk is too irresistible. “Always. What do you have on the menu?”

She waves me over to the front counter, pointing at the display cases that show off the perfectly round pies she likely baked fresh this morning. From the smell of it, she’s still using her mother’s famous cherry pie recipe, which calls for just a bit of bourbon and only the best Rainier cherries.

“We have our staples: apple, cherry, and, of course, marionberry, which we all know is a Pacific Northwest classic. Then we have our specials: peach cobbler, blueberry cobbler, coconut, and white chocolate with graham cracker crust. And finally, our mixes: blue raspberry, white chocolate coconut, and apple coconut, which I know sounds a bit wild, but it’ssodelicious.”

I stare down at the many options, unsure of which one to get because they all sound so damn good, and my stomach is already growling. I didn’t eat dinner last night, and after yesterday’s workout at the Falls, I need sustenance soon.

I look up at Fran. “Do you happen to know which one is Parker’s favorite?”

Her eyes widen for a moment before a grin breaks across her lips. “I sure do. It’s—”

“Apple coconut,” a voice booms from behind me.

I turn, tipping my head back to look at the giant. “Axel. Nice to see you.”

He grunts. “Hmm.” He shoves by me and points right at the apple-coconut pie. “Get that one. It was her creation.”

“Parker came up with it?”

He nods. “She and Fran here were tipsy on whiskey sours down at Bigfoot’s and were talking pies. They got hungry, snuck off to the kitchen here, and created this monstrosity.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know it’s our second-best seller so far this summer.” Fran pushes her chest out, her nose tipping up in the air. “Everyone butyouloves it.”

“Everyoneis wrong. Coconut is the devil’s dandruff.”

“Actually, I believe that’s cocaine,” I interject.

He sneers at me. “You’d know, wouldn’t you, Hollywood?”

I draw in a deep breath, trying to keep my cool for Parker’s sake. I know she loves Axel, but man, do I want to punch him right now. And why wouldn’t I want to? He keeps taking shots at me. It’s only fair I fight back, isn’t it?

“I’m getting real—”

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