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New story. Title: finding Harley, chapter 1

Harley

I’m baking, something I haven’t done in years. That time my life went to shit and I ran away to Italy, I learned to bake from Marcos’ mother. Not that Marco, the other one, we have two, I’m starting a collection.

Baking is normally something I only do when I’m depressed, so the fact it’s been years is a good sign. I discovered that when my hands were busy with something, and I followed a recipe written out in front of me, my turbulent thoughts subsided, at least until I put whatever I made in the oven and realized I had to clean up. Luckily, my kitchen here at home is top of the line and makes that process a whole lot easier.

My sister Mikayla roped me into making her a wedding cake. Her literal words were, “if I have to suffer through all this wedding crap, I’m taking someone down with me.”

So here I am in the wee hours of the night, fucking baking. I have no clue if these are appropriate flavors for a wedding cake either, but I have chocolate, lemon, and mojito.

I was te
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