“Got to be when you’re in New York City. Not all of us can afford a car service to drive us around so we don’t scuff our hideous loafers.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m a lot more down to earth than you think.” I point down my hallway, toward my room. “And down there are all five pairs of my shoe collection. Please peruse them and see that I don’t have just loafers.”

“Only five? Hell, I have more shoes than you.”

“You’d be surprised what you’d find if you stopped judging a book by its cover and actually flipped it open.” I almost smile, remembering one of our first conversations.

She gives me a sly once-over. “Maybe I’ll give it a flip tonight, but first, tacos. I’m starving. I usually eat at five on the dot.”

“What are you, eighty?”

“Technically the elderly are known for eating at four.”

“Well, I don’t want you dying of starvation.”

I direct her to the table, where I have a dozen tacos waiting to be consumed as well as some chips and salsa. As she sits down, I go to grab some glasses of water for us.

“I only have water. I hope that’s okay. Drank all my beer the last couple of nights and didn’t get a chance to restock.”

“Water is gr—oh my God, you got the pineapple salsa.”

“You like it?”

“It’s my favorite.” She dips a chip in it and pops the whole thing in her mouth. “Ugh, it’s so good. Thank you.”

“Of course. Just remember the salsa when you’re elbow deep in flour with me.”

I set the two water glasses down and start digging in. Luna does the same, taking three tacos and putting them on her plate along with some chips and salsa.

“So.” She holds a taco up to her mouth. “Why are you being nice to me?”

I laugh out loud, thankful I haven’t taken a bite of my taco just yet. “Just going to come in hot with the questions, huh?”

“I don’t beat around the bush.”

“So I’ve noticed.” I take a bite, chew, and swallow. “Honestly, I never wanted to be mean to you in the first place. It just happened. I was in a shitty mood, and I took it out on you. I tried to bridge the gap, but you went all dog on me and made it impossible.”

“A tip from Farrah.”

“Does she often have to fight men off?”

“More than I’m sure she cares to admit. Glad the barking worked, though—helped me focus.”

“Why? Was I distracting you?” I raise a brow at her, and her eyes widen.

“What, no, I mean . . . no. Not like that kind of distracting. Not the sexual kind. But you know, the competitive kind.”

I smirk. “Why don’t you act a little more horrified? Feels really good.”

She laughs this time and leans back in her chair, studying me. “I’m a little nervous, okay? This all seems so weird and strange, so excuse me if I’m a little awkward.”

I drum my fingers on the table, studying her in return. “I’m a little nervous as well.”

“Really? The man who doesn’t seem to show any sort of emotion? Nervous?”

“I am.” I pick up my taco. “Not every day I get to be in the presence of DIY royalty.”

She rolls her eyes and throws her napkin at me. “You are every weekend, and I’m not talking about me.”

“Then who? Wait, are you talking about Mary DIY?”

“Uh yeah. She’s the queen.”

“She’s fucking rude.”

“What?” Luna asks, as if I’ve just insulted her. “Mary DIY is not rude. Well . . . I mean, she’s—”

“Have you actually met her yet? Like, officially met her, talked to her when the cameras weren’t rolling?”

“I mean, she’s busy. . .”

“No one is that busy. Hate to say it, but the lady is self-absorbed.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “I didn’t want to believe it, but she is sort of rude.”

“She is, and I’d be worried if I were her—I think there’s going to be a new queen in town.”

Luna points to her chest with a chip. “Are you talking about me?”

“Who else would I be talking about? Know-it-all Helen?”

“Well, she does seem to know how to tell everyone what to do but has no actual skills, which is rather impressive in itself.”

“Not as impressive as the things you’ve been turning out week after week,” I admit.

She twists her water glass as she looks up at me. “Are you giving me a compliment, Alec Baxter?”

“Yup. And I mean it. You’re good, Luna. Really fucking good. Cohen is lucky to have you as a sister.”

Growing serious as well, Luna says, “That means a lot to me. Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

And then we stare at each other again, but this time we’re not avoiding eye contact, we’re not awkward. We’re just observing one another, appreciating the understanding we’ve come to. Maybe we’ve gone from judging the book by its cover to starting a whole new chapter—one where we can be friends.

“Gah, no!” Luna shouts, stopping me from pouring baking powder into the cake batter. “Dry mixture—put it in this bowl.” She hands me a bowl and directs me to dump the rest of the dry ingredients in. “We mix dry and wet separately.”

“Technically, sugar is dry.”

“Sugar doesn’t count.” She hands me a mixing spoon. “Carefully fold the ingredients together, and then we’ll combine everything.”

“Hmm, you left those instructions out when you sent me the recipe.”

“Based on the profile I was sending them to, I assumed that would be common sense.”

“Didn’t even cross my mind.”

She chuckles and leans against the counter while I finish up. “So you’ve really never made a cake before?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Growing up, my parents didn’t exactly spend weekends doing fun things with us like making cupcakes or throwing a baseball. We were on our own, which meant I had to learn whatever I could by myself and teach everything to Thad.”

“Oh . . . I didn’t know.” She looks down at the ground. “You had a bad childhood?”

“From the outside looking in, we would have seemed perfect—Park Avenue apartment, fancy private schools, extravagant birthday parties, and even more extravagant presents. Our friends thought we were so lucky, but nothing went deeper than our possessions. We had nannies, but they were there just to make sure we stayed alive. There was no emotional connection because my parents wouldn’t allow it.” I shrug. “Thad and I only had each other.”

“Wow.” She faces me and puts her hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry, Alec. I had no idea.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She bites her bottom lip. “What happened between you and Thad that put such a strain on your relationship? And feel free to ignore my question if it’s too personal.”

“Nah, it’s probably good to talk about. I’ve been ignoring our issues since college.”

Luna flips on the electric mixer—the one she was really impressed that I have. “I want to listen, but real quick, gradually add in the dry ingredients, but not too slowly because we don’t want to overmix the batter.”

I nod. “When we were young, I made sure Thad was always taken care of. I never wanted him to have to listen to our parents’ constant fighting, so I was always sheltering him. I had to get creative because there was only so much two young kids could do.” I shuffle the flour mixture in, staring down into the bowl as the wet ingredients mix with it, forming a batter. “When I graduated from high school, I went to Columbia. I stayed close to home in case Thad needed me, but just far enough away so I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain every day. My parents divorced my freshman year, and I thought that it was going to be better for Thad, who was fourteen at the time. But the divorce took a toll on my mom. She lost pretty much everything. She and Thad had to move into a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, which was really hard on Thad. He lost most of his friends and his childhood home. My dad forgot we existed, except to send checks for my room and board and child support for Thad. And I became . . . numb. I was so relieved to be done with my toxic family and to leave my childhood behind that I just . . . left everything behind. I got a job for the summer, rented an apartment with a few guys, and lived my life.”

“Oh no, Thad.”

“Yeah. I left him to face the nightmare alone. But even at that . . . he didn’t care. He still wanted to see me, hang out with me, talk to me. And I’d see him from time to time, but as we got older, those hangout sessions became even fewer and further between. I buried myself in work, and when I finally came up for air, Thad was grown up. He was engaged and going to have a baby, and I’d missed all of it. This competition was Thad’s way of bringing us closer together, and I’ve done nothing but push him further and further away because I’m an asshole who can’t seem to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.”

Luna switches off the mixer, the batter all mixed in, and leans one hand against the counter, facing me.