“We joke that I came here for the cake, right?” She nods, waiting. “Paisley.” My fingers slip through her hair, curling around the back of her neck. Here we go. “You are the cake. I’m here for you. I’m here for your hard times, and I’m here for you as you grow as a person and I don’t know about you, but all this fake dating stopped feeling fake as soon as we landed.”
