Page 120 of What I Like About You

Admitting this truth feels like my two worlds are colliding.

“Clearly,” Nash says.

I scoop the leftover frosting into Tupperware to bring home.

“Seriously, though, are you? Okay?”

“I bolted before the mourner’s kaddish.”

“So. Not great,” Nash says.

I shake my head. “Not great. I didn’t know what to do afterexcept come here. We used to bake together and just—I feel so much closer to herhere.”

“That makes sense.”

“I really hate cemeteries.”

“I’m not a big fan either.”

Nash wraps his arms around me and for the first time all day, I can relax. It occurs to me that in a way, I wouldn’t have Nash without Grams. Everything leads back to her. Without her, I never would’ve learned the art of the perfect cupcake. I wouldn’t have a blog, it wouldn’t be cupcake-themed, and Kels really, truly, would not be real.

I mean, Nash and I would’ve met eventually, here, and I’d only be Halle. But without Grams, I wouldn’t haveknownNash, I wouldn’t have spent years in DMs and G-Chat becoming this boy’s best friend.

Grams has guided me through every major moment in Kels’s existence—from starting the blog, to making sure I had the best baking equipment, to editing my posts and reviews until the words and tweets felt as natural as breathing.

If she were here, I know what she’d say.

You know what to do, Hal. You don’t need my notes anymore.

But even if shewerehere, it’d be up to me to fix this mess.

If I keep waiting for the right words, I’ll never speak.

Nash wipes a tear off my cheek and I remember being right here months ago and thinking that I used to hate how he’s always justthere. I don’t know why, because now it’s one of the best things about Nash—his uncanny ability to show up when I need him.

“Cupcake?” I ask, offering the container to him.

“Sure,” he says.

He plucks one of the cupcakes from the container, takes a bite, and chews itso slowlyoh my God. Each bite is a millennium. I watch him on the edge of my seat, or I guess on my tiptoes, because his opinion matters. Like him showing REX to me. If I can’t impress Nash, no way the cupcakes will measure up for my followers.

He swallows. Shrugs. “Kind of dry, tbh.”

What. I gape, because One True Pastry cupcakesare so not dry.

He breaks into a huge smile. “Kidding! Wow, I got you.”

I punch him in the arm. “I hate you.”

“I solemnly swear that your cupcake is so moist. Themoistest, dare I say.”

Once again, I’m laughing and I can’t stop because Nash loved my cupcake andmoistis the grossest word on the planet and he knows it. Because Nash always knows just what to say to make me feel better without even trying. Because Old Halleneverwould’ve offered Nash a cupcake and I feel so good that I did. Because I shared part of Kels with Nash as Halle and the world didn’t fall apart. In fact, it feels more whole than it has in a long time.

Because I have an idea.

I’m going to use three hundred cupcakes to tell Nash I’m me.

OTP cupcakes announcement

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