Sweet Cheeks Read Online Free Page A

their precious friend Mitch. There’s no doubt in my mind that they’d look at you in a different light.”
    “That’s ridiculous.” I sputter the words out and immediately chastise myself for automatically defending the very people who hurt me.
    “To us it is, yes. We were taught not to pledge allegiance to the friend with the biggest bank account but after how they’ve acted, it seems they do.”
    “Fine. Sure. If that’s the case, then it’s a good thing I no longer associate with them.” I turn my attention back to the cupcakes, not wanting to waste another thought on them or wherever he’s going with this.
    “You’re completely missing what I’m saying.”
    “Then just say it.”
    “I think you should go to the wedding. Do exactly what you joked about.” He smacks his hands on the butcher block for emphasis. “Walk in there with your head held high and act like leaving Mitch was the best damn decision you’ve ever made, even if seeing him feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. The fact that you’ve traveled thousands of miles and have enough balls to be there should make a huge statement in itself without you ever having to say a word.”
    He’s lost it. Like totally lost it. “You forgot one thing. I don’t have balls.” I try to lighten the mood. Derail the topic.
    “Hardy har har. C’mon, I’m being serious, here.”
    “I am too.” How did he go from listening to me rant to thinking this is a good idea? I sigh. “So, what? You think that by me showing them I’m more confident, they’re going to somehow support the business? It’s not like baking cupcakes is solving the world hunger crisis or anything. That’s a huge stretch.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. But if you left the golden boy and are no worse for wear and actually have the guts to show up at the wedding, you sure as hell know they’re all going to wonder what you know that they don’t.”
    “For the record I still think you’re crazy, Ryd, but thank God I’m not looking at the world through their snob-colored glasses, either.”
    He flashes me the same cocky grin he has since childhood. “Just think of it this way: if they see you with this newfound confidence, they’ll think the bakery is rolling in the dough. Pun intended,” he says with a lift of his eyebrows as I roll my eyes. “Being the shallow assholes they are, they’ll sniff the proverbial money in the air and think they need to try out your new shop to see what has changed in you .”
    We stare at each other across the table. His eyes search to see if I agree with what he’s saying. And I do see some merit in it. I remember the many times I sat at lunch with all of my then-friends and listened to them talk about so and so and how they must be doing well. The discussion would turn to maybe we should go see for ourselves.
    I can’t even believe I’m entertaining the thought or that this crazy set of mishaps has led to this discussion in the first place. It’s one thing to envision Mitch panicking. It’s another to find out the RSVP was actually mailed. And now this? Ryder thinking I need to show up to save the bakery?
    I can’t believe I’m finding an ounce of merit in what he’s saying.
    “Possibly,” I finally murmur, breaking his gaze and starting the next identical line of piping. I’m mad at him for making sense and annoyed with myself for even entertaining this conversation. And then it hits me how to stop this conversation, once and for all. “You forgot one more thing though, Ryder. I’d have to have a hot guy who’s madly in love with me. Isn’t that what my friends need to see in order for me to even remotely think I can pull this off? You’ve seen my dating life of late. Netflix and Nutella are about as exciting as I get. And hiring some paid-for escort to take me to a foreign country is not going to happen. So sorry.”
    When I look up, I can’t read the intention in his hint of a smile, but something about it has me