Loser X Cake Novels & Stories

“Pictures and videos of you two at the club are everywhere.” Right on cue, Zoe, my housekeeper walked in with a glass of fresh juice. “Good morning, ma,” she said politely. “You should drink this.” “Thank you, Zoe.” She nodded and quietly left the room. Lilly was still staring at me with raised eyebrows. She looked funny when she was angry. “I’m sorry,” I said tiredly. “My phone died. I just wanted to forget everything for a few hours and pretend life was normal.” I collapsed onto the couch.

"Hold your applause, everyone. Before I invite my grandmother to come up and give her speech, I'm sure everyone has noticed by now, a very important piece of this birthday bash is missing." "You may have noticed, her birthday cake is not here. Well, grandma, all I can say is that your birthday cake is being flown and personally delivered directly from... Paris." said Derek cheekily. Madam Louise's eyes opened wider when she heard what Derek said. Before she could react any further, the main doors to the ballroom opened to reveal a twelve-tier cake being wheeled in... by Peter and Lea Quinton. Everyone stood up and naturally applauded and cheered at the entrance of Madam Louise's birthday cak

“I think we’ll need a separate wedding just for the cake.” Jules clapped her hands. “Alright! First up—almond sponge with orange blossom buttercream. It’s subtle, elegant, and not too sweet. Like a first love that didn’t go to hell.” Valeria burst out laughing. “That’s oddly specific.” “Art imitates life, darling,” Jules said with a wink. Kc popped a forkful into her mouth and blinked. "That's perilously good." Valeria sampled hers, her eyes going wide. "Wow. That's—kissing springtime."

The truth was simpler and more inconvenient: I was not ready to run into Cassian Hale again in a public place with no warning and no preparation and nowhere to direct my eyes except straight at him. But my tutoring client had cancelled that morning, which left me with an unexpected free afternoon and a refrigerator that contained one aging clementine, half a block of cheese, and the specific kind of emptiness that only a proper market could fix. And the market on Rue Mouffetard was closer than the alternatives, and I was not, I told myself firmly, pulling on my coat; I was not going to rearrange my entire life around the possibility of encountering my ex-husband. I had done enough rearrangin

The cake couldn't wait for him, and neither would I. Todd finally stumbled home late. "You're still awake?" he mumbled, tossing a bakery box onto the counter. "Sorry, I forgot the cake, but Lula picked this one out as an apology." Without turning, I knew it was a peach crepe cake. "Have it yourself." Todd's patience evaporated. "Enough already! There is a limit to your tantrums. Lula went out of her way..."