Page 44 of Bumping into You

“Dude, good call,” says Trent. “Hey, Margot, want to be partners? I promise I’ll let you eat your fair share of the icing.”

“Ha,” says Margot, “someone’s got to keep an eye on you, or we’re not going to have any icing at all. Right, Gwen?”

Gwen is typing intently on her phone.

“Right, Gwen?” Margot repeats.

“Hmm?” Gwen asks, not looking up from her phone.

“You would have heard me if you weren’t stuck with your nose in your phone,” says Margot.

“Sorry,” says Gwen. “I was just checking in with work. I’m all yours now. What’s going on?” She puts her phone in her pocket.

“It was nothing,” says Margot, already heading to her cupcake station.

Our cupcake stations are equipped with ingredients to make our own frosting, colored dye, and a whole array of decorating pieces. I am clueless to the differences between them all.

“Thank you for this,” Gwen says. “It was so thoughtful of you to think about Bradley and Tammy being in this class and suggesting we be partners.”

“No worries,” I say genuinely. “That’s what fake boyfriends are for.”

Patting my arm, she says, “Right, and now I can show Bradleyhow much better off I am without him.”

“You sure are,” I reply quietly, watching her smile and a lightness ease into her.

Holly stops by our station. “You two ready for some fun?” she asks.

“Of course,” I reply happily.

“She just wants to show off how amazing her decorating skills are,” Gwen teases. “Ten bucks says Holly’s decorations are better than the instructor’s.”

“Oh no, I’m not touching that bet,” I say. “I’ve heard all about Holly’s baking prowess from Greg.”

“Stop it, you guys,” says Holly, feigning embarrassment as she turns and walks back over to her station with Greg.

Nancy, a sweet older lady, is the instructor of the class. She walks us through how to make the icing base.

I’d say we did a fairly decent job. Vivian and Tammy were supposed to be partners, but with Bradley, the three of them are sharing a workstation. Glancing over at them, it looks like they’ve managed to make icing soup, so while the instructor helps them thicken their icing, Gwen and I separate ours into multiple smaller bowls so we can mix in the colors.

“What colors are you thinking?” she asks me while eyeing Bradley and Tammy.

“Red, for sure,” I say.

Quirking her eyebrow at me, she says, “For all the fires you put out?”

“For the red of the most beautiful woman in this room,” I say.

She swats me not so lightly on the arm.

“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my arm.

“That’s what you get for trying to distract me with silly, flirty compliments.”

“Who said I was talking about you? Maybe I was talking about Nancy,” I say, pointing to Nancy, who is trying to help Miles andGillian, as they somehow managed to make their icing too thick, so much so that their spoon is stuck in it.

Gwen swats me on the arm again. “Not funny.”

“Ouch, you’re right, your hits are not funny. I think I may have a bruise now.” I rub my arm even more dramatically.

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