I'd take it. Her lips pursed into a smile she tried to fight, giving away that she knew I saw right through her crap.
"When can I eat this thing?" Duke asked, eyes narrowed on where my hands oh so carefully lifted the beef and rested it in the center of my pastry. After a quick wash of my hands, I set to wrapping it up and sealing it tight. I brushed it, cutting the top to release air as it baked, and fought the urge to chuckle when Duke cleared his throat at me, still waiting for an answer.
Honestly, he should know better. I'd answer when I finished with my step.
"It has to bake for 40-45 minutes," I said after I'd placed the sheet in the oven and set the timer. He groaned, and I chuckled at him as I set to washing my fingerling purple potatoes in the sink opposite them. The task meant I couldn't see them, but after over a decade with them I knew exactly what they would do as soon as I turned around.
Make faces at me. Because we were mature like that.
I ignored it.
"Why purple potatoes?" Sadie asked when she finally realized she'd failed to get a reaction from me.
"They're a little denser and nuttier in flavor. Mostly, I just prefer them because they look so fucking pretty on the plate," I admitted. "For something as visual as the blog, and especially the more visual social media sites, that's super important."
"You keep cooking like this, and I'm liable to get fat." I snorted a laugh at her, pressing my face into the back of my forearm.
"Please," I laughed. For my 4'11" friend, who was so fit she could take out a full-grown boxer in minutes, getting fat was ridiculous. Stacked with lean muscles, even Duke was fit with forearms sculpted like a Greek God.
When I said he was a sculptor, I meant a mixed materials sculptor. He was just as likely to work with wood or metal as he was with clay. The man didn't discriminate, and some of those materials required some serious strength.
I'd tried to help him once.
Let's just say it hadn't gone well.
At all.
Now in his words I just sat there and looked pretty. I loved to watch him work but learned my lesson quickly and stayed out of his way.
As soon as I had the potatoes set to roast and popped them in my double oven, I moved on to setting up the place setting for the photos in my little breakfast nook. "Soooo...." I stilled. It was never a good sign when Sadie hesitated to speak her mind, and I knew exactly where she was going.
Where she was always going.
"There's this guy, he comes into the gym."
"Sadie," Duke warned on a growl. He was my fervent defender. I didn't need to date, not when it always ended in disaster.
"She can't stay a marriage pit forever!" Sadie hissed. "Eventually, she will have to open herself up to considering getting there with one of these guys, but the only way that will happen is if she dates, Duke."
"I hate it when you call me that." I winced, setting a plate down on the table a little too loudly.
"It's true, Ive." Her voice gentled as I made my way back to the space behind the island where my two friends sat, staring at me as if we were walking a very dangerous line. "Ben wanted to introduce you to his parents, and you bolted. Chris proposed, and you never saw him again. They were both amazing guys. You're a marriage pit. Too afraid to let anyone in."
"Stop it, Sadie," Duke said, eyeing the way my hands clutched the island like I could break it.
"It's been over ten years." Sadie's voice gentled with sadness, and I could feel what I hated to hear in her voice more than anything. The pity.
Because we both knew I was broken.
Broken in a way that I would eventually have to accept that love just would not happen for me.
Never again.
“Maybe it’s time to look at what’s right in front of you,” she whispered cryptically, and I felt my brow tense in confusion.
"I don't see you with a ring on your finger," Duke snapped, and I raised my eyes to them.
"Stop it, both of you," I reprimanded them. "If I go out with this guy from the gym will you lay off?"