For the Love of Donuts

19. I Always Got Your Back

Tatum

Skye: Zoya is really happy with the pictures and the blog post.

Skye: I hope your photoshoot is going well!!!

That text was from this morning, but the next five texts are from fifteen minutes ago.

Skye: WE HAVE AN ENGAGEMENT EMERGENCY.

Skye: I need your advice before I end up doing something stupid.

Skye: I guess I should’ve added “again” to that last text, huh?

Skye: Sorry for the spam, dude. I know I’m the worst.

Skye: Hit me up when you’re free though, pleaseeeeee.

Instead of responding to the texts, I go ahead and just call her. The phone barely gets a chance to ring, though, because she answers right away.

“Skye, what—”

“I’m sorry about all the texts,” she interrupts me, “are you still with that client?”

“No, you’re fine,” I assure her. “What’s going on though? Your first text said Zoya was good with everything. What’s the emergency?”

She proceeds to curse. “The pictures and the post were too good, Tatum!”

“What? What does that even mean?” I put her on speaker and set my phone aside so I can start driving. “How can they be too good?”

I mean, I know we looked good in the pictures, but “too good” just doesn’t make sense.

“You have to hear this message that Zoya left me,” she practically sobs. “I’m going to put you on speaker.”

I hear her tapping away and then Zoya’s voice fills my car.

“ Hey, Skye! Good. News. Your blog post is doing AMAZING. Seriously. The comment section is blowing up and the share count is crazy high, considering that post just went live today. It looks like the readers are excited to hear more about the wedding. Isn’t that great? So, what I’m thinking is for right now one of your blog posts will be donut-related and then the other weekly post can be something about your wedding planning. What do you think? Call me back when you get a chance. Thanks, girl! You’re the best!”

Oh shi—

“Tatum, what should I do?!” Skye groans. “I haven’t called her back because I don’t know what to say. The photoshoot was supposed to be enough! She wasn’t supposed to want MORE!”

“I know, I know,” I say, hoping to calm her down. “But, Skye, I think you might have to do it. Zoya will get suspicious if you don’t.”

“I can’t actually fake-plan a fake wedding!” she hisses with another curse. “Where would I even start?”

“Maybe Dria can—”

“No, I can’t keep dragging my sister into this. The eventual lecture from her will only be worse if she gets more involved.”

While that’s partially true, I also know what Skye doesn’t know: Dria is determined for this fake engagement to turn us into a real couple. But if Skye is set on keeping Dria at a distance from this whole thing, I’m not going to disagree with her about it.

Besides, don’t the future bride and groom plan the wedding together? Don’t they make decisions and enjoy the experience as a couple? That’s how I’d want to do this if Skye and I were getting married for real. I’d want to spend every second planning our wedding with her.

“Then we’ll tackle it together,” I tell her without hesitation. “We’ll find out the main highlights of wedding planning and choose a few of them for the blog. We can do it. I’ll take some pictures to make it more realistic and you’ll do a great job writing about whatever we decide on.”

Spending more time with each other because of our “engagement” is exactly what we need.

“You’re making it sound way too easy,” she replies with a snort. “Do you really think we can pull that off?”

“We’ve been doing pretty well so far, Pink Stuff. And you know I always got your back, girl.”

A hot second later, I’m thinking about the time she wore that teal bandana top to my Aunt Jackie’s end-of-summer barbeque last year. Her back was almost completely exposed, and my eyes kept glancing at Skye’s bare skin, no matter how many times I tried to look away.

And then I learned something new about her.

She has a birthmark toward her lower back, one that’s roughly the size of my thumb.

Throughout the years, I’ve only seen Skye wear one-piece swimsuits, and none of those ever showed off her sneaky little birthmark. But that one bandana top made sure I noticed it.

I never really gave much thought to birthmarks before, but hers is just sexy as—

“Tatester? Where’d you go?”

I try not to be obvious as I clear my throat, but it sounds like I’ve been smoking for years. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I was just…thinking about something. What were you saying?”

“I just asked if you’re okay with us hanging out tomorrow night,” she replies, unfazed by my hacking. “We can eat dinner and do some online wedding research.”

“Tomorrow sounds good. Matt is supposed to be coming by in the afternoon to fix my doorbell, so that’ll work out fine.”

“IT’S A MIRACLE! THE DOORBELL IS BEING REPAIRED!” she hollers, and my ears are thankful that she’s still on speaker. “Okay, well, I’m going to grab us food tomorrow and we’re doing this thing at your place, that way I can verify whether the doorbell is actually fixed or not.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re insane.”

“You love it,” she says in an airy tone. She’s right, I do. “What kind of food do you have in mind? Otherwise, I’ll just bring over whatever speaks to me first.”

“I trust you. Surprise me.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Sooooo, tofu burgers then?”

She starts laughing before I even curse at her. “Carson, we both agreed to never mention tofu burgers ever again. Don’t pretend like you don’t remember.”

Eating one of those evil things gave me the worst upset stomach of my entire life. I nearly crapped my pants while doing an awkward waddle-run to the freaking bathroom.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she wheezes in between cackles. “It was just too good to pass up!”

I shudder at the horrible memory. “Yeah, well, now I’ll probably have nightmares tonight, so thanks for that.”

“Like, what kind of nightmares do you think you’ll have? Giant tofu burgers chasing you? Or maybe—”

“I’m going to hang up on you,” I inform her as my stomach begins to feel queasy. “How does six-ish sound for tomorrow?”

“I will be there with food that’s not tofu-related, I promise.”

“Good, because I’d hate for our friendship to be over because of tofu .”

She scoffs, “Nice try, Jacobs, but you’re stuck with me.”

And there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.

The next day, around one thirty or so, there’s a knock at my door.

I’m positive that it’s Matt—ready to get the doorbell fixed—but I’m wrong.

It’s not Matt.

Anna is the one standing on my front porch.

Anna and her tan canvas bag that says: “hot girls crochet” with an image of a crochet hook on it.

“Anna,” I say with creased eyebrows, “what are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s my day off, and I just thought I’d pop in to see how you’re doing. Plus, I’m crocheting Mr. and Mrs. beanies for you and Skye. The fake wedding is supposed to be in January, right? Which means that matching beanies will make your engagement more authentic. I just need your head measurements.”

She blinks at me, probably trying to look innocent, but what are the odds of her coming over today when Matt is supposed to be here any minute now?

How would she know that though? I highly doubt Skye told her.

“Hmm,” I hum, watching her carefully, “what about the measurements you took last time? For that Essential Kingdom beanie you made me?”

Two can play this game.

“I must have lost them,” she replies with a shrug. “You know how often I misplace stuff.”

This is true. But still, I don’t want to get mixed up with whatever’s going on—or not going on—between her and Matt.

Before I can tell her anything else, a white truck pulls up in front of my lawn.

A white truck that says Nishimura & Sons: Hardware & Repair.

Anna proceeds to glance over her shoulder, and then gives me a panicked look. “Please don’t tell Skye! She’d judge me so hard if she knew, but what’s the harm in being here at the same time as Matt?”

She’s determined, I’ll give her that.

Man, I just want my doorbell fixed…

“You won’t go overkill, right?” I ask her with a wince. “Because I really need him to take care of the doorbell.”

“I will be sooooo chill. You won’t even remember I’m here.”

“Well—”

“ Anna ?” Matt asks, stopping a few feet away from the front porch. “What are you doing here?”

Anna turns just enough so she can see him, but where she can also still see me. “Hey, Matty. I just came over to take some measurements of Tatum’s head for a crocheting project.” She reaches up like she’s going to pat the top of my head, but she’s too short for that to happen, so she settles for awkwardly patting my arm instead. “Why are you here? Stalking me again?”

Matt nods toward his toolbox and raises an eyebrow at her. “I came for a repair. And last time I checked, I wasn’t the one doing the stalking.”

Anna’s cheeks flush, but then she looks at me and laughs. “It’s just this little ongoing gag we have: ‘Oh, you’re stalking me! No, you’re stalking me!’” She laughs again and I try not to cringe from secondhand embarrassment. “Anyway, I need to use the restroom really quick, so I’ll let you guys talk doorbells and then I’ll measure your head, Tatum.”

“Sounds good,” I say, stepping aside so she can disappear into the house. When she goes past me, I whisper, “Girl, seriously?”

She gives me a weak smile before scurrying toward my bathroom.

That had to be one of THE most painful things I’ve ever had to witness.

But to my surprise, it looks like Matt is fighting some kind of grin.

Huh.

He must realize that I saw his reaction, because he clears his throat and comes onto the porch. “Sorry about all that. I know Anna is roommates with Skye, so you’re probably used to her antics, but she can definitely be a handful.”

I almost chuckle at the way he makes Anna sound like she’s an unruly kid instead of a twenty-two-year-old adult.

“Yeah, I know what you mean…” I proceed to shrug. “Anna’s cool though. We get along well.”

His dark eyes narrow for a second, and then he motions toward my busted doorbell. “Is it okay if I get started?”

A man of few words, noted.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Do you need anything? Or…?”

“I should be good to go,” he says, moving closer to the doorbell. He sets his gray toolbox down and pulls a black toolbelt out. “I’ll let you know though.”

Should I go inside?

I feel like I should go inside.

I’m going inside.

“All right,” I drawl, clapping my hands together for whatever weird reason. “Well…I’ll be inside…getting my head measured.”

Yep.

Matt nods once again, but doesn’t say anything else, so I go inside and close the door.

“Took you long enough!” Anna hisses from her spot on my couch. “Did he say anything about me?”

“I thought we agreed on you being low-key.” I give her a disapproving look before pointing a finger at my front door. “That was not low-key, Lopez.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes with a whine, “I tried! But he was wearing his cap backward, and he’s just so… Matt ! I always manage to make things weird whenever we’re around each other. It’s like a bad gift you can’t return or exchange.”

“Well, from the stalking comments I just heard, it sounds like this happens a lot, Anna.”

“I don’t stalk him, stalk him!” she defends herself, sitting up straight. “I just—I keep hoping that any small interactions we have might spark something. So, sometimes I plan coincidences for us.” She cusses and shoves her hands underneath her thighs. “I’ve liked the guy for years, ya know? And he hasn’t told me to screw off, so I guess that gives me…hope? Like, maybe he could be interested deep down but doesn’t realize it yet?”

In that moment, I’ve never related to Anna more. Sure, my relationship with Skye is different from hers with Matt, but we both want more. We both have feelings that are hard to ignore. And we both haven’t gotten a “red light,” but we haven’t gotten a “green light” either.

However, I plan on laying down some serious groundwork tonight when Skye comes over for dinner and wedding research, so hopefully—

“Dude, are you okay?”

I blink at Anna’s question and let out an awkward scoff. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Cool,” she says, even though she doesn’t look convinced. “Okay, let me get your measurements and then I’ll skedaddle out of here.”

Skedaddle ?

She pulls out her phone and a multi-colored measuring tape from her canvas bag before waving me over. “You have to sit down, Tate. We both know I’m vertically challenged and that hasn’t changed since we came inside.”

I laugh as I take a seat beside her. “All right, go ahead and measure away.”

She wraps the measuring tape around my head three different ways and then types my measurements into her phone.

“Hey, Anna,” I drawl as she puts the measuring tape away, “how did you know Matt would be here today?”

Her cheeks flush again as she grabs her bag and stands to her feet. “I went by the hardware store to see if he was there, and Mr. Nishimura told me that Matt was doing a doorbell repair.” She lifts a shoulder. “I guessed it was your doorbell and took a chance.”

I give her a wink. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She leans down and throws her arms around me with a loud sigh. “Thank you, Tatum!”

I hug her back. “Sure thing, Anna.”

“Well,” she says, pulling away, “I guess I should go. I’ll see you later.” She starts walking toward the front door but then pauses to look at me. “Oh, by the way, I saw the engagement picture s. They came out good.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Especially that kiss one. It looked very realistic.”

I tug at the collar of my shirt, even though I know it makes me look guilty. “Uh…thanks. Zoya liked them too.”

Which Skye probably told her already.

“Hmm,” she hums with a nod. “Hey, Tatum?”

I fight the urge to clear my throat. “Yeah?”

She smiles. “Your secret is safe with me too.”