Page 64 of Desserts for Stressed People

I am. Right now, I’m thinking about Keanu Reeves.

Nevaeh:

I often think about Keanu.

Shane:

Huh. Looks like I need to dust off the old leather, ankle-long jacket.

Nevaeh:

Please do. I’ll be waiting for a selfie.

As I move toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water, my phone vibrates.

Shane:

Tell me something you’d never tell a date.

I gape at the screen of my phone, but I don’t know what to make of his request. Maybe it’s my ego, but it feels like it’s connected to what happened yesterday. He wants Nevaeh to be brutally honest because I wasn’t. And I don’t question it. I almost owe it to him to give him this piece of truth in all the lies that Nevaeh is.

Opening up our chat, I stare at the letters on the screen, but my mind is blank.

Shane:

Too unconventional?

I pass a hand over my face and lean with my back against the counter.

Nevaeh:

No. It’s harder than it sounds. I’m thinking.

Shane:

When I was in high school, I slept with two best friends. It broke their friendship, and I still regret it today.

With chuckles bursting out of my lips, I wait for the next text he’s typing.

See? Not that difficult! However, it might cause some second-guessing.

I tap my fingers on the cooktop—God, my life is too vanilla, isn’t it?

Nevaeh:

When I was fourteen, I stole a lipstick from the mall. My friend and I did, simply for the fun of it.

When the three dots appear, I shriek and make my way back to the couch.

Shane:

I’m not sure I’m comfortable chatting with a criminal, Nevaeh...

Nevaeh:

I’m not sure I’m comfortable chatting with a friendship-breaker, crook!

Shane:

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