Stone’s eyes become tiny slits. “Funny, because last time I checked, it was the DaSilvas wh—”

“Shut up,” Tommy snaps. “Stop bringing up old bullshit.”

Stone rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You’re officially on your own when it comes to your old bullshit. When we get home, I’m telling Mom I want to go back to public school. If she says no, I’ll run away.”

Tommy steps on the gas. “Fine. Do you, bro.”

Given his little brother’s outburst, I can’t help but wonder. “Is there still bad blood between you and Jace?”

If there is, I’m almost positive whose photoshop skills were utilized for Stone’s picture.

Not many people know it, but Jace is a savant when it comes to computers.

Graphics, programming, and creating his own video games are just a few of his areas of expertise. He can spend days—sometimes hours—in front of a computer screen doing things that would take mere mortals years to perfect.

Tommy grips the steering wheel. “No. I mean, not really.” His expression turns solemn. “Truth be told, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for how I used to treat his brother.”

“But you and Liam were friends before…”

My heart pangs and I can’t bring myself to finish that sentence.

Liam should be here.

“I know,” Tommy says softly. “You’re right, we were.” He shrugs. “You know how Jace is though. The Vatican can declare you a saint and he’d still hold a grudge against you for a mistake you made when you were a kid.”

He’s not wrong. Jace doesn’t just hold grudges, he embraces them and uses it to fuel his rage.

His own father is a perfect example.

And now he’s doing the same thing to me.

Freezing me out, but not before making my life a living hell.

For reasons I’ll never understand.

Tommy squeezes my shoulder. “You okay?”

Not really, but I’m not about to unload my issues with Jace onto Tommy.

“Yeah. It just sucks that he can’t let bygones be bygones.”

“Don’t stress. He does his thing and I do mine.” He smirks. “The only time I run into him is when we play against the Knights and my team whoops Cole’s butt on the field.”

His cockiness is almost endearing. “Guess I’ll have to check that out sometime.”

“We’re scheduled to play against them on Friday.” He winks. “It’s the first game of the season so it’s a pretty big deal. It would be awesome to see you there.”

I’m mulling over a polite way to decline when he pulls up to a charming little building with a neon green sign that reads, “Top of the Muffin.”

After checking my watch, I open the car door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I can pick you up if you want.” He gestures to his little brother. “After I drop him off.”

“Are you sure? I don’t—”

“Sorry, can’t hear you,” he says with a wink as he backs out of the parking lot.

“We’re out of cookies,” a plump woman with fiery red hair and a hint of an Irish accent greets me as I walk up to the counter.

I muster a smile. “That’s okay, I—”

“And that includes macaroons.” She looks me up and down. “I know your type.”

I can’t believe this woman is judging me on my choice of baked goods.

She’s also wrong. I’m a chocolate cake kind of girl. A macaroon passed my lips once, and that was enough.

I smile bigger. “That’s cool, I’m no—”

“If you’re looking for one of those pumpkin spice cream cheese disasters, there’s a Starbucks up the road.”

How in the world does this woman stay in business?

“Not looking for any of those either.”

The woman is visibly annoyed. “I don’t have any—”

“Job interview,” I blurt. “How about one of those?”

The woman blinks. “Oh.” She holds out her hand. “Dylan, right? Your aunt told me you’d be stopping by.”

I shake it. “Nice to meet you.”

She studies me cautiously, her irritation with me returning. “So tell me, Dylan with the blue hair. What’s your favorite dessert?”

“I like chocolate cak—”

“Sorry.” She gestures to the door. “I’m afraid we’re not a good fit.”

She can’t be serious. “Wait? Just like that? That’s not fair. You didn’t even interview me.”

She holds up a finger. “Oh, but I did. I don’t like liars.”

Okay, now I’m offended. “I didn’t lie. I really do like chocolate cake. It’s simple and classic and—”

“Not your favorite.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Fine. Let’s try this one more time. What’s your fav—”

“Irish Soda Bread?”

Now, I’m lying. But if it gets me the job, so be it.

“Kiss ass.” She waves a hand. “Goodbye.”

My heart sinks. “Please, just tell me what the right answer is. Or better yet, ask me some real questions.” I start ticking things off with my fingers. “Like how serious my work ethic is. Or if I’m able to work nights and weekends—I am, by the way. Or, if I have experience—okay, maybe don’t ask that because I don’t, but I’m a quick learner.” I hold her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t choose the fanciest dessert, or if you thought I was lying because I enjoy chocolate cake, but I really need this job, and I’ll do just about an—”

“What is your—”

“Cannoli,” I yell. “I like cannolis, okay?”

She rolls her eyes. “That was my fourth guess.”

“Does this mean you’ll give me a chance?”

Her lips twist. “Maybe.”

The bell above the door chimes and a man wearing a suit waltzes in. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers and appears like he’s going to pass out any second.

I step aside so he can place his order.

“Hi, I’m proposing to my girlfriend tonight. I know it’s last minute, but I was hoping I could get some chocolate covered str—”

“No.” She taps the counter emphatically. “You look like a cheesecake man.”

This woman is not only out of her mind, she’s the worst salesperson in the history of ever.

The man is proposing. Let him get some strawberries.

He smiles nervously. “Cheesecake is my favorite, but I know she really lov—”

“I assume you bought her a pretty ring?”

He nods emphatically. “Yeah, a little over two carats.”

She whistles. “Lucky girl.” She places an empty cake box on the counter. “Trust me, you want the cheesecake.”

His brows draw together as she removes a large one from the glass case. “But she likes stra—”

“Take it from someone who knows, young man. It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.”

Understandably, he’s confused. “I have no idea what that means.”